Tag Archives: Overwhelm

Perimenopause or a Challenging Life? Sometimes It’s Hard to Know

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Is it my hormones changing or is life simply challenging? Seriously. I’m tired of the narrative that everything is perimenopause, or even menopause. Yes, a lot of women are struggling with the reality of perimenopause and menopause. I am far from dismissing that. I mean shoot, I’m one of them. The brain fog is real. And brain fog is an understatement. I forgot my son’s best friend’s name the other day. A kid I’ve known since second grade.

Hello perimenopause symptoms! And the song lyrics, “Cause you’re hot then you’re cold / You’re ‘Yes’ then you’re ‘No’” Well Katy Perry wrote my theme song. And probably millions of other women my age. And while it is great that perimenopause is finally having its time in the spotlight and women are getting the support we need, I hate to say it, but it is being used as a crutch in places. A place to put blame. A way to dismiss reality, real feelings.

The Orange Rhino talks about perimenopause versus challenging life symptomsAn easy out for a woman who is truly struggling because her life is actually, truly DIFFICULT. One professional, “Oh it’s *just* perimenopause. You’re simply extra emotional.” And what if it isn’t? What if sometimes life is just hard because, wait for it…it just is?

And the hormones are making it worse but aren’t the culprit? This is a question and a debate I’ve had with my therapist and my doctor for a while now. I got on the computer for my virtual doctor’s appointment last week and got right to the point. “Listen. I know I’m in perimenopause. I know my changing hormones aren’t helping AND ALSO… I feel like I’m going to cry every afternoon. I have more panic attacks than I ever have.

My exhaustion and sense of overwhelm some days is new, next level. And I don’t think it is just because of the hormones. My life is simply hard. Harder than it has been in a long time. The hormones aren’t helping.” And then I do what I do. I spoke in metaphors;) “Picture an ice cream sundae.” She smiled at this one. “My life is a five scoop ice cream sundae. It’s being eaten outside on a 90 degree day. I’m one scoop, each kid is a scoop I’m taking care of. We are already naturally melting from the heat of life. The hot fudge is perimenopause. It’s simply expediting the meltdown.”

I continued. “Point being. I’m melting. Something needs to change. My medication isn’t fully working anymore and hormones? Sure, adding them might help, but it isn’t the full solution because perimenopause isn’t the only problem.”

My doctor looked at me. And simply said, “I get it. It’s all too much. Just too much. Here’s the plan. We’re adding this medication. Take it in case of emergency. When the sense of overwhelm hits hard. You might need it, you might not. The season you are in is temporary.”

I said thank you. Closed the computer and sighed a sigh of relief. It has taken me months to admit I needed to change medication. I just keep telling myself, strike that, blaming myself. Blaming myself for not managing well enough. For not handling the stress well enough.

“Just try harder. Take more deep breaths. Exercise more. Rest more. Laugh more.” Yada. Yada. Yada. Yes. All those things might and will help AND ALSO, my life is heavy right now. It is wonderful and I am grateful AND it is heavy and challenging. There comes a point where part of the solution is asking, what other kind of support do I need? The medicine she added, my addition to my bag of tricks for supporting myself during this season?

The last time it was in my repertoire was 2016 when my divorce began. When I had days I couldn’t breathe. When it all felt “just too much,” as she said. I got through those days. It’s 10 years later. I never thought I would need that medication again.

But life happens. Gray happens. It isn’t a reflection of me, of my lack of ability to manage stress or the challenges that come my way. It is just a reflection of the reality I’m living right now. Life can be very hard. And sometimes people hold that very close to their chest because they have no choice but to do so. That just makes it heavier, doesn’t it?

Perimenopause doesn’t pause any of that from happening. It just makes it worse.

But what truly makes it all worse is using perimenopause as a scapegoat for real, heavy emotional feelings people are experiencing. Gray happens.

And it can hit hard and heavy. Admitting it, acknowledging it? Not a scapegoat. Figuring out support isn’t a scapegoat either. These are all the ways orange begins to make the gray lighter.

Sending my warmth to you today, especially if any part of this post resonated a little too close. Trust me, it isn’t just you and me feeling this way.

xoxo, Sheila
🧡 The Orange Rhino

The Fortune Cookie That Made Me Laugh on a Terrible Day

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I almost spit out my wonton soup. We don’t wait until dinner is over to open our fortune cookies. I know, I know. Dinner first, dessert afterward. Whatever. Chinese food is awesome, but the fortune is the best part. And Saturday night’s fortune was priceless. Quick rewind. Saturday was beyond a shite storm. I returned from vacation to life beyond life’ing. All vacation vibes were gone within hours. Isn’t it fun when that happens?!

Some “highlights.” Flight was delayed so we got home at midnight. Woke up late to rush and pick up a sick dog at 8 am. Kids came home early (which is great, I just wasn’t ready for them.) And an ER vet visit at 10:30 pm. WOO HOO! Fun times! Between the kids coming home and the ER vet visit, it was dinner time.

But because of the flash floods and our sick Hope, we hadn’t made it to the grocery store. And with the rain, my honest-to-goodness exhaustion, and lack of shower, I had zero desire to go to any restaurant.

But we had to eat. And I (and a few teens I happen to know) were HANGRY! So we ordered Chinese food and I crossed every finger that some lovely soul would be willing to deliver food in this rain. And yes, all of these seemingly irrelevant previous details matter. Why? I was spent. Kaput. Total gonzer. Vacation away from my home had been great.

But I always struggle on vacation with the pull between relaxing and catching up. Divorce has plenty of curses and a few hidden blessings. Oh, hello there, gray and orange! One of those blessings is occasionally having a week when my kids are away and I can truly choose how to use my time.

And I want to utilize the heck out of it. I want to 1000% soak up the quiet and the ability to do whatever the heck it is I want, or need.

But sometimes what I want and need doesn’t look like traditional self-care. It isn’t always walking on the beach, reading a book, or enjoying the quiet. Sometimes getting something done is what helps me feel better. I had plans to work on well, work;) I had plans to read a few educational books on subjects I’ve been wanting to learn about. I had plans to be productive. Self-care has lots of forms. I didn’t check a lot of the boxes.

I checked some on my vacation, but not a lot. I came home relaxed, yet also a little disappointed in all I didn’t get done in my week off.

And then stress kicked up 1,000 notches with all the gray that happened. So here I was. At the kitchen table. Relaxed from vacation, but not totally. And stressed from the day’s gray happenings.

And I opened my fortune cookie. And I almost spit out my wonton soup. I couldn’t even read it out loud. So my son did. It said, and I shite you not, “Invest in quality self-care products.” Oh, okay, let me get right on that. Oh wait, I already had. After I swallowed my soup, I admit it, I laughed. The irony was so good. So, so good. Just as good as the meal I did not cook and the plates I did not clean. That was the self-care I purchased that day. What non-traditional self-care are you doing today? Sending warmth to you today, especially if surviving shite storms are currently your speciality as well. Solidarity my friends, solidarity.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Why I’m Organizing My Home for Peace and Productivity — Not Just Prettiness

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I’m not seeking prettiness, I’m seeking peace. And I’m not seeking prettiness, I’m seeking productivity. But really what I’m seeking are ways to soothe my nervous system, ways to feel better, ways to lift myself up. I write these disclaimers because there is nothing lonelier than being misunderstood or rejected. And if I’m being honest, I fear that sharing my interest in organizing my home will lead to both.

But at the same time, I truly believe in the upsides of the story I’m about to share. Not just from personal, lived experience, but because I know research supports it.

Yesterday, I was feeling depleted and asked myself, “What do I need to feel better? What would make me happy?” My answers? Getting something done. Being creative.

So a pantry cabinet called to me to be organized at long last. As anticipated, I opened the door and things fell out. Oh, has this one cabinet been driving me bat shite crazy. And oh, has it been bringing so much unnecessary stress to the end of my day, since it holds the broom I grab after dinner.

But organizing it? Oh, It. Brought. Me. So. Much. Joy!!! Problem-solving to figure out where everything would go? Finding something in our house that would help organize things? Oh, my brain loved the challenge and the success of figuring it out! Opening the cabinet door and not being attacked by falling paper towels? Or a falling broom? Heaven on earth. Seeing a finished project? Total dopamine rush. I love organizing. Not to achieve Pinterest results, but because of all I just mentioned.

The process.

The results.

The feelings.

The feelings that continue well after the job is done.

The feelings of ease of knowing where everything goes.

The feelings of relief of not over buying because I easily find what I need the first time.

The feelings of peace every time I see a visually pleasing cabinet. I’ve been organizing more and more since the renovation finished.

More systems in place. More stuff donated. Less to organize. Less to tidy. I feel lighter. Less gray. More orange. I want to write more about this, but my old brain — the part of me that has been told before that I’m a perfectionist and too anal-retentive, the part of me that is saying no one cares — is still popping in and saying, “I wouldn’t…” But I gotta tell you. I know there are so many ADHD brains, so many perimenopausal brains, out there like mine thinking:

I can’t organize.

I don’t have the time.

It really isn’t worth it.

But also… I feel overwhelmed, frustrated, and annoyed by over-purchasing, wasting time looking for things, and clutter. I’m living the results of doing a little at a time AND it is possible, even for brains like ours.

And it is more than worth it. I want to scream from the cleaner cabinets all about it. I can barely contain myself. SO much so that I wonder if that should be my job?! No joke. BUT… The truth? My organized cabinet? It isn’t just about more clean, organized cabinets with some bins to boot. It really is about one way I’m finding ease and joy so that I feel lighter in general which is totally Orange Rhino oriented, so I guess I’ll stick around here.

Happy MonYAY everyone. I hope it has started off on a great note and if not, there is still plenty of time to create some orange. Sending warmth as always,

xoxo, Sheila.

🧡 The Orange Rhino

When Gray Hijacks a Productive Day: How I Try Not to Add More Gray

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I said I wouldn’t hide. So here I am. Struggling, and sharing how I’m refusing to stay stuck. I wrote this yesterday. I was excited(ish).

Finally, a non-rushed shower. Makeup. Hair actually blown out. Time dedicated to me, my work, my goals. I sat down. Focused. Motivated. BOOM. Orange emotions disappeared. Gray happened.

Here’s what I wrote in my more personal, diary-of-sorts.

* I’m tired of feeling like a failure. I really, really am. I’m tired of watching everyone around me move forward while I move at a snail’s pace.

*I’m tired of so many interruptions in my schedule.

*I’m tired of being jealous of others, even when I know jealousy can be a useful indicator of what matters to me. Even when I know comparison is the thief of joy, it has been my reality this week, and I’m trying to honor it so I can work through it.

*I’m tired of seeing “understand your nervous system, manage your nervous system, it’s all about your nervous system!” And “manifest more, manifest better, manifest clearer.” I know, I know, I know. And also, sometimes there is truly more to it. I’m drained. I’m trying.

* I’m tired of hearing everyone suggest I’m not doing it right or not doing enough. I know that is likely my mind playing tricks on me. But still, I feel criticized more than supported.

* I’m tired of being told, “be patient” and “it’s your busy season, your time will come” and “but you’re a stay-at-home mom and that matters.” YES. AND…

*I’m tired of parenting solo and all that comes with it.

*I’m tired of my stories, my histories, and all that got me to this parenting-solo bit. I have dreams I’m trying to make happen. Dreams beyond being a mom, because that is only one of my dreams. I have dreams that would fulfill me in other ways and, honestly, help make me a better mom. But right now? They feel really hard to make happen.

* I’m tired of having ADHD and a late diagnosis. Of learning how to manage it late while also raising boys with it and trying to help them understand it, process it, and manage it while I do the same.

* I’m tired of feeling alone and also, lonely. Of craving connection, nights out, more laughter. and also… Of knowing I need to reach out more. I need to connect more.

Of knowing some of my loneliness is on me… and also, some of it isn’t.

* I’m just tired.

But mostly?

Mostly I’m tired of knowing the logical, rational, mature answer to all these heavy, gray feelings. I know they will pass. I know I will get through them. I’m not a failure. I’m not stuck. I am making progress. I know my truth. I know my nervous system realities. I know my goals, my limiting beliefs, the stories I tell myself that aren’t helping.

I know all about mindset and that what we focus on grows, for better or for worse. I know I have good friends. I know I’m tired of parenting sometimes and also fully love it sometimes and will miss it when my boys fully move out. I know all the gray emotions can be true.

And I know all the orange emotions can be true too. This morning, when I sat at my kitchen table not wanting to do a darn thing, I did what I did yesterday. I asked myself: What do I need to feel better right now? What will help me get going? Not forever. Just this moment. What one step can I take?

Yesterday, I got up and took a short walk. Around the house. And today, I made myself get on the treadmill. eMOTION is one of my favorite mnemonics I learned a few years ago. Best way to change an emotion? MOTION. And later today, if life feels overwhelming again, which it likely will as I go from doctor’s appointment to doctor’s appointment and feel unproductive while my to-do list plays in my head, I will do the thing people think is cheesy but is actually wicked effective.

I will remind myself of the 7 things I’ve learned that help me get unstuck: I’m not broken or alone. This will pass. I can handle this. I can give myself compassion. I only need to take one step. What do I need to feel more at ease? Gray doesn’t get to win. Let the orange stand out. Sending warmth,

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

When Parenting Overwhelm Makes Sobriety Feel Hard

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Sometimes the hardest part of parenting isn’t the moment. It’s managing your own overwhelm when all you want to do is escape. Last week, mine had me reaching for a glass of scotch after 450+ days sober. That’s when I knew just how overwhelmed I really was. Two of the three boys were hangry, hangry teenagers. I couldn’t breathe right. I couldn’t blink right. I couldn’t be anything… right. And yes, they are good kids having human moments.

I mean, I get hangry too and um my mood swings are fun at times. This said, I’ve parented from this philosophy for years: De-escalate, don’t elevate. Don’t elevate emotions. Don’t elevate tension. Which also means: de-escalate, don’t evaluate. Trying to assess what is actually going on, trying to figure out how to help them when they are amped up? Useless. Not gonna work. Trying to “teach” them how to do better next time when they are amped? Also not gonna work. That will definitely just escalate.

I mean, try telling me how to better handle my emotions during a sudden moment of hormonal rage. Ask me how well I will listen and take in your lesson plan. Amirite? So when they were stomping around the kitchen, nitpicking at each other, complaining about my meal (the one I was so excited to have made them) and my efforts to de-escalate were not working…

And I realized I was getting frustrated and starting to make things worse, I left the room. I needed a break. Leaving the room was easy. “I will not be treated this way.” Turn and walk away. Easy. The hard part? I still felt all the overwhelm. The sadness that we weren’t having a family dinner over a meal I thought they would love. The letdown. The clearly other emotions about other stuff I apparently wasn’t aware of.

On the way to the safety of my couch, I saw my fiancé’s glass of scotch. I guess I was bottling up more stress than I realized. I picked it up without hesitation. What’s one sip? That doesn’t destroy my 450+ days of not drinking, right? I immediately spit it out, poured the drink down the drain, and the tears fell. Dammit. Parenting is exhausting. I love my kids and still, it’s exhausting. They are human, they act human, and so I give them grace and still, it’s exhausting.

This happened last week. It had been a hard week. As I sat curled up on the couch, crying, letting all the stress out, I decided I needed to change clothes. I needed cozy. I needed to regulate myself so I could handle them better. So I could ooze out more comforting, chill vibes. Sweatshirt and sweatpants on, I returned to the kitchen.

They had fizzled out, thank goodness. One had left. The remaining one apologized, thanked me for going out of my way to make his favorite dinner and get cookies. The other one appeared shortly thereafter and said thank you for the cookies too. (Lol, not dinner. I knew it would be hit or miss with him.) Walking away was the right thing. Spitting out the scotch was the right thing. Neither was easy.

Naturally, I decided to take a picture. The one who hadn’t lost his shite with me saw the glass. “MOM! What are you doing? Put that down! You aren’t drinking.” Oh bless my heart. He was so worried I had taken a drink. That moment made spitting out the scotch, made deciding to be sober, worth it. One of the reasons I’ve chosen to be sober is to show my kids that life is okay without alcohol; that it is not needed to numb during hard times.

My son witnessed it in action. May he remember this. And may I keep remembering that I can do it because honestly? Seeing how quickly I wanted to numb when parenting hurt so badly… when I hurt so much… even after 450+ days? That’s why I personally have chosen to be sober. I know I need to be.

Sending my warmth and a little extra oomph to you all today and always,

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Sensory Overload, Clutter and Yelling: What My Teen Understands About Me

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My teenage son totally has my number. And it’s because I taught him well. Ever since I was little, I’ve been super sensitive to certain sounds, textures, and visual clutter. I used to sit in movie theaters thinking, When I grow up, I’m going to invent popcorn that isn’t crunchy sounding… and chip bags that don’t wrinkle when you put your hand in.

So yes…having four loud boys did not exactly help my sensory processing. When they were younger, my nervous system was often fried from the noise, the chaos, the constant touching, the overwhelm, and the exhaustion. A lot of my yelling came from that place. My body was screaming on the inside and it needed somewhere for all that overload to go. Once I started The Orange Rhino Challenge®, I began understanding that better.

And I started handling it differently. I took breaks. Splashed cold water on my face. Turned on music to dance out my energy. Put in earbuds to listen to calming music and tune out the noise. I talked out loud about what was happening in my body. As the boys got older, and it became more obvious we’re a pretty neurodiverse family, I tried to make two things clear: It is my job to take care of me (likewise goes for them!) If I’m overwhelmed, it’s my job to step away, get my earbuds, regulate, and do what I need to do to feel better and less snappy.

And that in a family, it’s loving to consider each other too. If someone says they’re overloaded, the kind thing is to be considerate, help if you can… or at least maybe not chew chips like you’re in a sound effects competition.

Well. Fast forward to last night. I was super off. Later I realized my ankles were massively swollen, so apparently my body was not happy. Then my son started eating potato chips. I was about to absolutely lose my mind. And this child looked at me and said: “Mom, stop telling me to chew quieter. Where are your earbuds? You need them.”

Then he got up, found them, handed them to me, and said with the most loving and playful as possible but irritated voice, “I’ve had enough of you. I want to chew my chips in peace.”

Honestly? Fair. I put them in… but not before I blasted music on my computer and he chewed as obnoxiously loudly as possible. It became a full-on sound off. We both ended up smiling.

And I told him, “Thank you. I appreciate it. And you’re right… it was my job to get up and find them. Sorry, kiddo. Enjoy your chips. But first, may I have one?!”

We teach them and hope it lands. And then one day, it does and you feel so grateful. For the loving help and the potato chips. Sending my warmth and a little oomph to you, today and always,

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

ADHD and Perimenopause: Why Women Deserve to Be Believed

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Nothing says “support women” quite like questioning their diagnosis. We tell women to advocate for their health and then question the answer when they finally get one. I’m grateful there’s more conversation happening around perimenopause and women’s health. It is needed and it matters.

But there’s something about the conversation that has really been getting under my skin. Here’s the tricky thing: A lot of perimenopause symptoms can overlap with ADHD symptoms at first glance. And because of that, I keep seeing comments and videos — from other women, mind you — basically questioning whether women diagnosed with ADHD later in life really have it… or whether they’re “just perimenopausal.” And wow, does that get under my skin.

Because yes, some of us really do have ADHD. And yes, some of us are also in perimenopause. And yes, perimenopause can make ADHD even harder to manage. Those things can all be true at once. What frustrates me is this: We constantly tell women to trust themselves. To listen to their bodies. To advocate for their health. To keep pushing until they get answers because they know their bodies best.

But then when a woman finally does get an answer — and knows it’s right, feels the relief, finally exhales — people turn around and question whether it’s real. No thank you. That doesn’t feel like support. That feels like more dismissal. My ADHD signs were there long before perimenopause.

They were there in elementary school. “Sheila, raise your hand.” “Sheila, stop talking.”

They were there in how overwhelmed I got. “Sheila… she’s the emotional one.”

They were there in how hard I worked to stay organized. Binders were — and still are — my best friend.

They were there in the way I needed systems, structure, lists, and detail just to keep my brain from feeling all over the place. I’ll never forget the to-do list and Excel spreadsheet I made for my wedding. It was a masterpiece. My ex’s friend looked at it. Looked at me. Looked at it again.“Sheila… this is a bit intense, don’t ya think?” Oh, it was. But I needed every detail captured and tied to a time or I would have been lost. Side note: the marriage didn’t last, but the wedding was indeed phenomenal. So many wonderfully executed details. Thank you, ADHD creativity and hyperfocus.

So no, I wasn’t “suddenly ADHD” because I hit my 40s. I was a girl who learned how to compensate. A girl who tried really hard. A girl who looked capable from the outside while working overtime on the inside. A girl, then a college student, then a mom, who was absolutely exhausted.

And I know I’m not the only one. So yes…women should absolutely keep talking about perimenopause. And also about how it impacts ADHD women. And while we’re at it, let’s also stop acting like late-diagnosed ADHD in women is some suspicious trend people are latching on to. It isn’t. Trust me. There are upsides to ADHD and also, some real, not so popular, challenges. The diagnosis didn’t come out of nowhere. It just took a while — too long, really — to receive it.

And gosh, is it a relief to have. To finally understand myself better; to realize I’m not broken. And again, to know I’m not the only one. On that note, I’m going to take my medication, make a list for the day, then talk to myself to help keep me on task and remembering what I’m doing. Oh the things we learn!

Sending my warmth and a little oomph to you all today,

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Perimenopause or Just Life? Why I’m Tired of Blaming Hormones for Everything

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I’ve been getting flustered lately. Like…surprisingly easily flustered. I know, I know. Hormones. Perimenopause. What if I told you I’m tired of blaming perimenopause for everything? (lol, not just, I’m tired, that’s a given!) Hear me out.

When I was in elementary school, I had a saying. I have absolutely, positively no idea where it came from. It wasn’t my parents or a teacher. Not even a coach. I just said it one day and it stuck. “I don’t mind complaining, as long as you’re gonna do something about it. Complain to me all you want, but then you gotta act.” Apparently ten-year-old me was onto something.

Because I gotta be honest. When I keep blaming perimenopause — and then don’t actually change anything — I don’t feel better. I still feel frustrated with myself, my mood, and everything within a two foot radius. Make that one foot. And before everyone says to give myself grace (and you all know I’m all for giving myself and others grace)… I gotta be even more honest. There comes a point where giving myself grace becomes a crutch, an excuse.

I know. A little rhino tough. Hear me out again. There’s a difference between grace and avoidance. So, back to where this whole post started. Lately, I’ve been flipping out faster than I’d like. Overwhelmed in a light-switch kind of way. Fine one minute. Not fine the next. Are hormones part of it? Probably. Yes.

But I also know this: My nervous system is fried. I’m not prioritizing feeling at ease the way I could be. The caffeine isn’t helping (although my Costa Rica coffee really is excellent and is there anything better than a perfect Diet Coke, mini sized of course.) And yes, I need to make the appointment to at least explore HRT, even if the answer ends up being no for me. Hormones may be part of the story.

But they’re not the whole story. And I don’t want to shrug and just say, “oh well, there’s nothing I can do until my hormones are under control.” I don’t want to give myself a pass when I know I could be doing things to help myself. I know this is a wee bit more direct and blunt than I normally write. I’m writing them to myself with love actually — and from a place of strength. Along with these sudden mini-sized-panic attacks becoming a thing, Sheila getting her groove back is most definitely a thing.

And my spine;) When I started writing in 2012 about learning to yell less, I wrote without much fear. It was freeing. Then somewhere along the way, I shrank. Truly. I’ve been crawling out since 2018 ish. Last month was Fearless February. I’m going to carry that feeling all of 2026. I think you’re going to find that I’m writing a little more bluntly from here on out. It’s just so much more freeing to be less concerned with what people think 😉 and more concerned with attracting the right kind of people to this community.

I mentioned yesterday that I’ve got things in the works. I do. Like, I want 20-year-old energy Sheila who didn’t need sleep so I can easily raise my kiddos and launch my secret projects. I am *that* excited. Since that’s not happening lol, I’m gonna need a crash (a group of rhinos) behind me to make everything happen when I’m ready.

So yes, I want this place to grow. I used to be afraid to admit that. Afraid to admit that I want to take up space. Not anymore. It’s a new month, by the way. New month, new word. No fancy word this month. March speaks for itself. I’m MARCHing forward, one step at a time.

Sending my warmth to you today and always,

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Why We Say “I’m Fine” When We’re Absolutely Not

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Do you ever pretend you’re fine… when you’re absolutely not? (Rhetorical question) I have a serious case of the “I’m fine’s” right now. You know the ones: “I’m fine, really.” “It’s no big deal.” “I’m good. It’s all good.” (Andy Grammer may be good. But if I’m being honest with myself, honey I’m not good) Why is it so hard to just say: “Yeah… today sucked.” “I know I’ll be okay, but right now? This stinks.” “I’m frustrated. I thought I’d feel better by now.” Like seriously, why can’t I just be totally honest with others more often?

When my best friend called the other night and said, “Sheil!!! Why didn’t you tell me you were having another procedure?” My answer? “I didn’t want to be a burden.” Oof.

Here’s the truth: I’ve been told before that I’m “too much.” That I’m “seeking attention.” That I “just want to be sick.” So somewhere along the way, I taught myself: Keep it in. Say you’re fine. Don’t inconvenience anyone. Even though I know I can trust my real friends… Even though I know I can share my shite sandwiches… I still struggle. I’m re-teaching my brain that I can share the hard stuff. That I can be “not fine” and also know “I will be fine” at the same time.

Practice is exhausting. But it’s working. Every day I accept the gray a little more and still create orange anyway. Every day I practice being real with myself. Some days go better than others.

But most days? I feel lighter. I want us all to feel that way today. I want to try something. If this applies to you, drop one honest “not fine” truth in the comments. Just one. And let’s reply to each other with actual support. No fixing. No minimizing. Just: “I see you” or some other loving message.” I have a feeling a lot of us are carrying something quietly. Let’s all feel a little bit better today, together.

Sending my warmth to all of you, especially those who aren’t feeling fine and also (understandably) don’t feel comfortable yet sharing with others. I see you. I get it.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Why the Same Gray Day Can Feel Completely Different Depending on What You Need

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It always amazes me how I can feel two totally opposite emotions in the same situation. Take a gray, gloomy morning for example. If this were the summer, and I was on vacation, and I woke up to this weather? Blech. Boo! No thank you!! I want the sunshine! But since it is fall and almost winter? And my body is craving hibernation, calm, quiet? Since life has been loud? Since I have so much to do and need to be inspired to not really leave the house except to walk the dog?!

Oh gloomy gray mornings please come find me! Of course, since I’m me, when I realized this, it made me think of the gray moments in life.

The stressful ones (um, how am I going to get my house in order by Wednesday night?) The worrisome ones (um, first semester college kiddo, kiddo applying to college, freshman in high school, and the sophomore in high school, all having their own gray moments.) The heavy ones (can’t even go there now, too many to list, but I’ll add finances, life changes, concerns for lots of others.) The complicated ones (dreams, goals, hormones!!!) If gray weather can elicit two responses in me (yes please and no thank you…) then gray moments, gray emotions can too, right?

Yes. Maybe not instantly, in that same precise moment, but eventually, at my own pace. For those new here, I’m anti toxic-positivity. To be clear, I’m not anti-positivity. I’m just not for being so positive that real feelings are overlooked, dismissed. You know, the gray ones. There is a big difference. I’m pro Grorange:) I’m pro “Living the Grorange Life.” I wrote that the other day and liked it. or “Living The Orange Rhino Life.” Either or.

I’m pro: acknowledge the gray, feel the gray, move through the gray, so you can see the orange and feel the orange. I’ve always been that way, even as a kid. –> This part of me was never understood and honestly, never really accepted. “Just be positive!” I was told.

But I was being positive…I was just also feeling the other feelings, first. Which is normal. And healthy. And okay. I wasn’t dwelling. I was moving through so I could fully feel the good stuff too. Otherwise the gray heavy emotions would just linger.

So yeah, I’m pro “Living the Grorange Life.” I wrote that the other day and liked it. or “Living The Orange Rhino Life.” Either or. And lol, in true Sheila fashion, don’t even know how I got here in this post. Not planned. Anywho, today until Wednesday night is a mad dash of unpacking. The kitchen renovation led to re-doing the floors on the entire first floor.

When they were installed in 2007, they were done wrong. They were fixed twice afterwards and nothing worked. My ex and I lived with it knowing it would have to be fixed. With the kitchen newly done, my fiancé and I realized now was the time to fix the entire first floor since so much furniture and what not was already packed and out.

Bottom line?! Kitchen is unpacked 100% But the dining room?! The family room? Our living room/my office? HAHAHA. This girl has work to do. And don’t forget dusting. Gotta dust. The gray that keeps trying to derail me and invite me to just sit and do nothing????

So much work –> Overwhelm. The orange? I’m feeling grateful and excited. The gray? Did I mention I don’t know how it will get done? The dust is getting to my asthma? I’m tired and overwhelmed???! The orange? I just keep telling myself to pick up one thing, one box at a time and to keep going. Either way, gonna show up and get it done. Here I go. What are you doing today? Traveling? Shopping? Resting? Flying to NJ to come help me?!

Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always, and especially if you are feeling only the Gray in “The Grorange Life” today. That’s okay. It’s part of it. The Orange will come. There’s no rush.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino