Happy Tickaversary - Year 10: The State of Union
If you’re paying attention to dates, you’ll notice this post is world-record late: 7 months after my actual Tickaversary. And it’s the BIG ONE: ten years! I’ve mostly been putting all that energy into deeply personal work and integrating all of this into my real life, now that I actually have one again.
What’s becoming more and more obvious is that this is not a Lyme Disease update, just as this has become not-a-Lyme-Disease blog. F*ck the gurus, you can absolutely 100% make your chronic illness your whole identity. It’s not “holding you back from healing,” until and unless your authentic calling is something different. Advocates and change-makers are the backbone of healing our society, and we need people in all fields who are living the journey, not moving on from it and leaving it in the past. Trust me, when you get your life back, the temptation to run ahead and never look back is also real, and legit. For me, this is my path: to grow into what I really want to be (a writer, a musician, an artist, an advocate) and credit Lyme with being one of my greatest teachers. But only one. Its first lesson is:
1. It Takes A Village
My full staff of educators is much more diverse than Lyme: underage use of antidepressants and discontinuation syndrome, mental health and neuropsychology, religious indoctrination and trauma, deconstruction, C-PTSD (Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder), immigration and adjustment disorder, acquired neurodivergence. And the beautiful life and childhood and memories and love and experiences I had alongside of those things. This annual update is no longer about “The State of the Spirochete,” because testing is still expensive, inaccessible, and inaccurate, even by alternative means like Autonomic Response Testing and Chinese Medicine (which I love and trust, but still haven’t found a country where they are covered by insurance). I will likely never know the status of my spirochetes and protozoa and viruses: dormant or eradicated or low-level active? What’s more important to me is “The State of the Union”: the whole picture of my journey and the lessons I’m learning from each of those teachers, which all combine to create the true story of my healing.
This is an important lesson in disease, too. Lyme, Long COVID, and other chronic illnesses are never just one disease; they’re a village, made up of many factors, for example Dr. Richard Horowitz’s 16-point MSIDS model. You have to treat the village.
And it takes a village to heal. I did it “alone” without many of the resources we believe we need, but the truth is I was not alone at all. I was alone with my heart and mind, isolating myself to do the research, making the decisions, and fighting for my autonomy in treatment. I was abandoned by a lot of systems, gaslit and ignored by a lot of people, lost a lot of friends and family. It was lonely. But I was never alone: I did find the doctors who listened, I did find the therapists who healed, I did find the faithful companion to pay the bills, I did find the H.R. to fight the insurance company, I did find the community to provide safe spaces to heal and grow and transition across four foreign residencies. I did get very lucky to pull together my village of misfits. That’s why it took so long to heal. Not my personal short-comings or ignorance, just the nature of time, and doing anything different in a world not built for change (especially a world built for profit). Neuroscience says changing the brain and body takes time. Sociology and politics say changing our systems takes time. It took time to find my “healthcare team.”
Here’s the revelation: healing is not impossible. It’s under-resourced. Not just in research dollars and technological advancement, but in our society and government as a whole. We do not have a supportive social system. We do not have a sustainable work-life balance or economy that prioritizes human survival and health. It doesn’t exist, but it does take a village, and we’re not building it. Because by the time we figure this out, we’re too sick to find and be the village. We need to have the village support to heal enough to create the village. I’ve been calling Lyme “The Impossible Disease” from the beginning, and it continues to be an “Impossible Healing” too. Good thing I have practice doing Impossible Things.
Where do we start doing Impossible Things? Authenticity and self-alignment. Jesus said, “a house divided against itself will not stand.” Psycho-neuro-immunology says a mind and body divided against itself will not stand either (autoimmunity). History says a leader divided against their self will also not stand, and that is why:
2. Our Stories Matter
As you’ll see elsewhere on the blog, I struggle A LOT with moving forward as a survivor, and balancing my privilege and response-ability of helping others with the fact that I do not have all the answers or credentials, my unique journey is not applicable (or marketable) to everyone, and autonomy – following my own instincts without being manipulated or controlled by another person – is a foundation of my own healing.
Therefore, I have to consider how much I need to not help people too much, to avoid becoming bossy and controlling. First, because the personal journey is their teacher, not me. But also, for a person with Complex PTSD, like myself, telling them all the answers (demands) to healing Lyme would actually backfire: my intrusive opinion into their personal journey would activate the sympathetic nervous system as a threat to their autonomy, and shut down the immune system. I could tell them what to do step-by-step, but if they can’t afford it, don’t have the treatment available in their area, have allergies, children, careers, trauma, or any other life situation different from mine, it sends the message that they won’t heal, or don’t deserve to heal because they just aren’t dedicated enough.
On the other hand, we’re dealing with infectious diseases, the terror of Long COVID, societal collapse, and suicidal temptations, so keeping my mouth shut out of respect could very well end in death. I need to be bold. And I need to be humble. And I need to be kind.
It’s taking me such a long time to untangle this because Evangelical pushiness (“You must believe what I believe or you will burn in hell forever”) is deeply entrenched in my cells since I was conceived as an ovum in the womb of the womb of my grandmother. Every neuron in my body was built on the maxim of “It’s your personal responsibility to save the world.” No matter how far I deconstruct my religion (I’m largely agnostic or even atheist these days), as a preacher’s daughter, this core foundational belief and wound may never fully unshackle me, one way or another. I’ve seen the severe damage truly good people can do in the name of their truly-believed reality.
So I made a deal with Spirit: if its real, it can use me as a channel to love and heal the world, but I will. not. hurt. people. the way I’ve been hurt: gaslighting, spiritual bypassing, victim-blaming, toxic positivity, insensitivity, narrow-mindedness. I know people’s hurt can’t be avoided or completely controlled – trauma triggers are everywhere and hurt is a natural and necessary part of life and growth. But I don’t want to cause it; there’s accidental discharge of a weapon and then there’s willful ignorance and neglect. I need mental gun control (how very American of me). So until the world is equipped with trauma-informed resources and safe spaces to hurt, I can’t do a damned thing to help anyone without hurting them; it’s literally impossible. Checkmate, Spirit! I’ve got you!
Ha-ha, silly me; Spirit moved its little pawn into the “be a creator of safe spaces” square. Checkmate, Jess. It’s time to step into your purpose.
So my answer is not to be a coach or a guru, but an open, authentic space. Here is my story, here is what I learned. Take what you need, ask whatever you want, leave when you must, never let me hurt you without your consent. Call me out; tell me your story. The story of my life – the actual living of it – is deeply sacred work to me.
Unfortunately, this means that when people decide it’s not for them, they can get defensive and offensive. When the matter at hand is my personal experience, it means I can’t just “agree to disagree” and have a rational discussion or debate. It means if the person is too defensive (i.e. triggered, rude, condescending) to have the capacity to consider my view, without telling me the story behind their view, they are negating my life. It means they are disrespecting me to my core. It means they are triggering the wounds of being a woman in the patriarchy, a descendant of fallen Eve in the Christian church, the youngest girl in a family of intellectuals. My worth as a person being obliterated is not “just a trauma response” that’s my responsibility to heal; it crosses a line into unacceptable, toxic, abusive, system-wide behavior that must be challenged. This is where I become a feminist: I can handle debate, but as a woman and a disabled person, I will not tolerate a challenge to my worthiness of respect.
You can’t negate my story without the truth of your own story (not what ChatGPT or TikTok or the news told you). The most significant and legitimate challenge to our own thinking is a human story. Trust me, having a stack of scientific and medical journal articles does nothing to convince anyone you have significant knowledge of your own illness. Waxing autistical on a well-researched topic, even having a Ph.D. does nothing to change someone’s mind. Documented proof rarely gets you necessary labs or treatments in a doctor’s office, let alone your bigoted neighbor’s kitchen, and never on the internet comments section. People need to see it impact the life of someone they love. They need to hear someone’s story, and preferably, watch a little bit of someone’s life in action, to make it real and relevant.
So how do we open our minds to hear different opinions, if we’re all too triggered to remain in the room? How do we, or even should we, remain in the room with narcissists committed to belittling us and our story? Where does compassion and grace meet boundaries? Where do our safe zones intersect or become mutually exclusive? These skills aren’t built in a day. Even when you have them, it takes a village to reciprocate.
3. Time Patience Faith Trust Is Of The Essence
I said earlier that my healing took so long because it took time to find a village to actually support all my education and decisions. It also takes time physiologically, to treat and repair the damage of multiple systemic infections, imbalances, and deconditioning. It also takes time to change the brain, from ideas to practice to dedication to habit, to become a new person. We must have and allow patience in the healing process; rushing someone or even pushing ourselves to heal faster, be better quicker, get back to work, or get back to responsibilities will backfire. The stress of pressure to heal faster activates the body’s fight-or-flight survival mode, and paradoxically slows down the rest-and-repair mechanisms (or can even halt them altogether). “Impossible Disease.” Less is more. Slow and steady wins the race.
On the other hand, as I said earlier, we are racing against the clock, and waiting or hesitation can mean death. Chronic illnesses like Lyme involve many serious pathogens, and the longer they go untreated, the more serious and possibly permanent the damage, to the heart, brain, nervous system, blood, digestive system, not to mention medical bills, lost wages, and lost homes. Don’t wait to do something, anything healthy for your body, and get professional medical supervision as quickly as you can.
As you can. Here’s the systemic barrier that many cannot control. So many of us can’t. Financially, socially, biologically, or otherwise, there are many reasons people avoid the doctor, besides the lack of a functional healthcare system or advancements in labs and treatment technology. One of my personal barriers in healing is medical PTSD. After all I’ve been through, I have a deep mistrust and panic around healthcare professionals. It doesn’t matter how universal the healthcare is in Austria, how much I know I “should” get a screening, get tested just to make sure, take precautions and strive for early detection (you hit 40, and suddenly just existing makes you high-risk for everything). I can’t. I have extreme anxiety just getting medical papers for immigration or eye exams, panic attacks when I accompany my husband to appointments, and total freeze and shutdown when I try to find a general practitioner or women’s health center. I don't want to.
Will it be my fault if I relapse or develop a secondary condition? No. Do I expect people to blame me anyway with all the “you should have,” “why didn’t you just,” “I’ll bet you wish you’d have sooner,” and “you’re still a victim of your trauma.” Absolutely. Do I care? I’m pretending not to. My psycho-neuro-immunology-based nervous system practices, Chinese medicine, acupressure, and diet have resolved enough conditions that I almost went to a doctor for. I’m my own living proof. And call me stubborn and stupid, but I’d rather die in autonomy than live in disrespect, fear, gaslighting, and a toxic system. I trust the process of my life. I trust the wisdom of my time to die, and my time to heal. This isn’t giving up; I have a strong desire to live long and prosper. But I surrender. Life is short, and we can’t control how short. I make each day as peaceful and loving as I can. If that doesn’t require a doctor, then neither do I.
Primal Trust is a program built by Chronic Lyme survivor, Cathleen King, based on neuroplasticity, cell danger response, and psychoneuroimmunological principles. And I like the premise: primal trust. Trusting our primal bodies to know exactly what we need to survive and heal before our minds do. Trusting that even our worst symptoms like pain, anxiety, autoimmunity, depression, fear are not attacks from our own body, but messages, warning signs: something is wrong, and we need to address it; or something was wrong and we need to update our source code and security features. But that something is never us, at our core. Our body is our own biggest protector. It loves us, it’s wired to survive; and we should love it and learn to listen to – and trust – it’s methods. As we also take proactive steps to unwire faulty signaling, remove unhealthy environments, and treat hijacking infectious agents.
I move forward with this same trust in the process of life. I see how every tiny detail, from all my mistakes and “failures”, to the miracles and blessings, all of it was involved in the process to bring me to my present life, and I love it. I absolutely love my life. I love the way I struggle, I love the way I grieve, I love the way I let myself be messy, I love the way I bounce back, I love the values I stand up for, I love the community I’ve worked hard to find, I love my friends, I love my awkward first baby-steps into my new reality. I love the triggers, I love the growth, I love my neuroses and my quirks, I love my insecurities, I love my misconceptions and being proven wrong, I love my bursts of anger and frustration that end so much sooner than they used to, with much less damage. "But mostly I love the way I don't hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all..."
I’m trying to love the chronic pain in my back and my randomly flaring food sensitivities. These are the hardest to trust. They slow me down, I think; they hold me back. But what if they’re holding me in place? I saw again and again over my many years how slow frustrations, miscommunications, mistakes, symptoms and flares stalled my progress in life, career, and healthcare... and brought me into the exact moment of meeting the exact person who would help me in the exact way that made my dreams come true. So... I’m trying to simply trust that to happen again and again, defying all notions of what time “should” look like, or what patience/proactive line I “should” or “should not” cross.
I’ve come to a conundrum in this: I’m highly critical of my former Christian faith and the ways it has harmed me with lies and false beliefs about myself over the decades. And I also have to admit that it saved my life. Without time, patience, or trust in myself, I did have a faith in God that carried me through many fears, many doubts, many hopeless nights, many impossible scenarios. Believing that God was in control, working things for my good, and could do miracles is a major reason I didn’t give up. While I may put all my primal trust in my nervous system and neuroscience now, it is also true that even my brain and body used Spirituality as a survival tool, and I am very grateful for it. But now I believe:
4. Reality Is What You Make It
While I love to dabble in quantum physics and theories of consciousness and Universal Fields of Electromagnetic BioResonance™ (and making up fancy Capitalized Terms That Sound Authoritative but are not), that’s not what I’m talking about here. Over the last year, I’ve largely attempted to dispense with the woo-woo talk, because it’s being misused and abused, over-marketed and misrepresented to the harm of a lot of people (which, remember my bargain with Spirit, I refuse to be a part of). I don’t want belief or faith or theories to stand in the way of anyone’s unconditional love, acceptance, and healing. I think you deserve to feel worth and support just for existing, not because you subscribe or pledge yourself to a belief system. I want to speak from facts, and that means speaking from my lived experience and backing my interpretations with scientific knowledge of human biology. But spirituality is in my genes; embracing the mystery and the unknown is in my healing protocol; finding words to describe it is my calling.
In conjunction with sharing my story, I feel like my reality needs its full and proper context. All of our lives need context, and I realized that’s largely missing in today’s dopamine-rush scrolling media culture. We get clips of people’s lives and build a whole assumption and worldview on what we see. This is the flaw in Homo sapiens, amplified by mass media and globalization. We’ve never had a proper history – full context has always been missing. We’ve always built a fantasy world on romanticizing or catastrophizing anecdotes from faraway tribes, leadership, countries, cultures, and celebrities. How many of us rolled our eyes at twentieth-century Europeans, wondering how dumb they had to be to let World War 2 happen right under their noses? Only to turn around let the same racist, authoritarian leadership dominate the in the 2020’s? How many of us believed living in New York City in the 90’s meant you always had at least five friends who were with you all the time and stuck by you no matter what, or that babies are only hard work for one or two episodes until you get the hang of it and someone is always there to help?
Chronic illness is the beast of reality. Your own world comes crashing down in quick and shocking succession: doctors aren’t actually that smart, helpful, or caring; cutting edge medical treatment doesn’t actually save you; your bountiful food supply is full of toxins; friends and family disappear when you need them most; the government assistance is mind-blowingly inaccessible; your value as a worker, spouse, parent, friend collapses to nothing. Add in religious deconstruction and immigration and you have the complete Existential Collapse Trifecta. Derealization is a common symptom of Lyme, chronic illness, PTSD, and mental health. It’s literally the loss of reality, when you feel like you exist only in a dream, behind a veil, in a simulation.
Chronic illness and disability also distort your reality to everyone around you, further distorting their reality. Unless you live together, absolutely no one understands what’s happening behind your Facebook feed and text messages every minute of every day. People fill in the gaps with huge assumptions, and being based on a worldview completely different than the chronic illness reality, those assumptions are almost always wrong. But they continue to live their lives and treat us as if their reality must be ours. And it’s so, so, so not.
There are many ways to confront this. Some people don’t post at all, never sharing their life or diagnosis. They just disappear, some into an intimate healing relationship with their close tribe, some to extreme loneliness and decline. Some turn it into a whole influencer gig, sharing every detail, good or bad with the entire world. This is amazing for visibility and advocacy, but it can also be very hard on the psyche with comparison, assumptions, and misrepresentations. I took the middle ground: my social media is shared with less than 100 people, but I tried to share my whole story and struggle, and write a public blog about the major points of learning and transformation. I tried to find people to talk to in-person, in all sorts of settings and relationships.
Not a single one of those choices actually prevents the distortion of your reality. You will always not share enough, share too much, “why didn’t you tell me?” and “whoa, TMI, dude!” and “I think you’re just trying to get attention.” The only thing that ever truly helped was having in-person conversations with people who get it: fellow spoonies, former spoonies, or someone who was raised with spoonies and became a really really good listener. And even we have our own versions of reality that we’re not fully understanding when we each go to our respective homes and live life behind closed doors.
So the full and proper context is very important to me. It’s becoming popular opinion that talking too much and over-explaining is a trauma response, an attempt at control and perfection, an inner child desperate to never tell a lie and stay out of trouble, or even autism, or victim mentality. Those can all be true, and I highly recommend therapy to figure yourself out. But for me at this time, it’s neuroscience: Homo sapiens evolved to live in reality, complete with sight, sound, smell, taste, touch, mirror neurons, electromagnetic fields of the human heart and mind, and co-regulation; in relationships and physical contact, in open air and airing of all one’s personal issues as an essential element of the health and survival of the tribe. And our brains and bodies are deteriorating quickly in our modern world of extremely fragmented reality: text messages with no biological cues, media with no co-regulation, relationships with artificial intelligences. I’m trying to save humanity by inserting as much of my humanity as possible back into the algorithm that’s literally annihilating us as we speak (or read).
But as I share, I must disclose: the full and proper context of my work here is that it’s mine and mine alone, and I have experienced things you will never see, never understand, and never appreciate. That means you should not base your reality – your interpretations, your worldview, or your healing goals – on my reality. Because my reality is only real to me. It’s my life, not yours. Unless we become intimate friends, you will never ever have my whole story, and the reality you build around my media presence will be distorted, false, and misguided.
You are responsible for understanding this and creating your own reality. You are responsible for how social media and culture affect you and shape your expectations, desires, and self-image. You can take hope or hopelessness from my story, but it’s not my job, nor under my control, to decide what you do with it. Authenticity and Autonomy are my big non-negotiable values. My reality is that those also belong to you, and you can do whatever you want with them. That’s your response-ability.
Chronic Lyme and being isolated for most of 10 years has already put me “out of touch with reality.” People can think I’m naïve or stupid, or “don’t know how it is in the real world,” and that causes a lot of shame and loneliness in me. But I have firm boundaries around shame (I won’t tolerate it) and a good relationship with loneliness (me, myself, and I are best friends who never say no to getting together). Some people will see my “healing journey” and not be inspired: I’m too woo-woo, I’m too dumb, I’m too privileged, I’m too whatever. That stings, I’m not going to pretend it doesn’t. I’m far behind where I want to be, and I’m not going to pretend I have a perfect life. As I said, I have an imperfect life, which I love with all my heart. That’s my reality to embrace.
You can be disappointed that I present myself as healed, when the reality is I’m not in perfect health. You can be irritated that I present myself as happy, when the reality is that I have grieved deeper and harder in this past year than any other in remission. You can create whatever reality you want about me, and set it in opposition to your own reality.
But in my reality, your opinion doesn’t matter. That isn’t what saved my life, and your approval doesn’t drive my happiness. I’m honest. I share what is safe to share with people who can be trusted to hold my vulnerable reality with respect. If you choose to hurt yourself with my reality, that is the reality you created for yourself. If you choose to grieve and grow and get curious with me, our realities can converge; welcome friend. Both my reality and your reality can be untrue for the other, AND coexist for both our healing. Because:
5. Both/And Thinking Is Non-Negotiable.
Black-and-white rigid thinking is a cognitive error that lies at the foundation of many mental and social illnesses, and can keep us stuck in our physical illnesses. To survive chronic illness, especially depression, OCD, or terminal conditions without a cure, you must see possibilities beyond what is given to you by doctors and society, beyond what the hijacking spirochetes and inflammation tell your brain, beyond the temporary feelings that feel permanent, beyond what you learned in childhood and programmed as facts for life. When we are children, our survival depends on obedience without cognition. We cannot possibly understand thermodynamics or predator psychology by the time we need to know “Don’t touch the oven!” and “Don’t talk to strangers!” Children need black-and-white rules to follow before their prefrontal cortex develops. Unfortunately, the brain often uses the template of those hardline rules to build its map for life, programming them as permanent survival skills. This is why so many of us can benefit from therapy: not because we’re broken, but because we actually work too well – we got programmed for successful primitive survival, and never reprogrammed for growth and wider knowledge of being a modern adult (and like, modern adulthood is kind of killing us, so it’s actually smarter to not evolve into that, no?)
As such, Both/And Thinking is a skill that lies at the foundation of all healing, mental, physical, and spiritual. You must give your mind and body options and capacity to let two (or more) things be true at once. Things can be hard AND helpful. Something can be wrong, against your values AND the only option you have. Things can be right AND have consequences. You can be happy AND grieve. You can be sick AND emotionally healed. You can have an Impossible Disease AND find all kinds of possibilities. You live in hell AND experience heaven.
All that being said, this is how I’m navigating all the above lessons, and this is what my everyday reality looks like in remission and my new “healed” life. Messy. Growing Pains. Love.
So… the real “Lyme update”?
1. All of the above. It’s a continued journey of healing from C-PTSD and regulating my nervous system. I have stepped into co-regulating with safe people, the first step to getting back my social life.
2. I continue to explore my Authenticity: who I am and what I want to be, what I want to do, what kind of life I want to live. I’m checking off my list: being European, sharing my life with friends, learning new languages, recovering my energy with less fatigue, more physical activity, more work. And:
3. I still have limitations: still counting spoons, still needing space for triggers, still eating healthy, still setting boundaries like a “chronic illness warrior.” Still have back and hip pain that flares when I exercise, which is why I can’t commit to a fitness routine. Sticking to gentle somatic practices, qi gong, and just walking, hiking, biking, dancing, swimming. Because European cities are awesome, they have many open-air gyms and “playgrounds” of strength-training equipment I can walk to. Sometimes I stop for a weight-lift on my daily walks, but not often. Baby steps. Body image and exercise is also part of my complex trauma, which I refuse to rush, no matter how much physical therapy I could benefit from. It doesn’t feel safe for me yet.
4. Career: after Babesia, Lyme, and Bartonella took a devastating toll on my hand-eye coordination, cognitive processing, diaphragm and lungs, I got back my music. I got a guitar and piano this year, and am thrilled beyond words for the miracle that is playing music and singing again after I thought I lost it forever. I’m songwriting prolifically, but my composition skills are untrained, and my audio recording at toddler-level. It exhausts my brain within an hour to “work” on my music, so I dedicate as much time as I can to just practicing. I get to do some semi-public performances once in a while, and am setting a goal to do my first open-mic within the next few months.
Art: doing meditative doodles, making gifts, practical projects, photography, hobbies, once in a while I still paint. I created my long-fantasized Dada Nouveau Society, a concept and community of creative friends. It’s small and informal, just the way I like it.
Writing: Hundreds of pages of notes, observations, journaling, and getting more and more focused on sharing the important stuff. It’s therapy for me, detailed resources for you. Working on 5 novels now for the last few years, all which issue from my personal journey, and thus are not to be rushed for publication. Trusting (and loving) the process.
5. Relationships. Before, during, and after chronic illness, relationships are a minefield. Marriage and love need constant work and care, and that ours is still in tact is a credit to pure dumb luck. Not going to go into the details on my blog yet, but I do want to acknowledge that it’s a HUGE issue for Lyme, C-PTSD, religious deconstruction, and everything I cover here. I highly recommend therapy or self-help and development for all parties. It’s normal and okay if yours doesn’t last through this. It’s normal and okay if yours is a mess through this. It’s normal and okay if yours changes, evolves, or transforms through this. And it’s a humbling privilege if yours survives through this. IT’S POSSIBLE!
It’s very common to lose friends and family through chronic illness and struggle to make new ones. It’s normal to find that people don’t have the capacity to truly love one another and support us. It’s normal that our greatest struggles hold up a mirror not everyone is able to look into. It’s normal that you have to set brutal boundaries to protect your parasympathetic nervous system and heal, and it’s normal to activate the sympathetic nervous system when setting those boundaries and dealing with the guilt, grief, shame, doubt, and consequences. It’s normal to feel everything, everywhere, all at once, and it’s normal to be overwhelmed by all of it. It’s an “Impossible Disease.” And...
IT’S POSSIBLE.
Some resources:
Hailey Magee: for people-pleasers and life transitions
April Lyons Psychotherapy: a blog I like; the first one to show me I had C-PTSD dissociation and not a disease or toxins causing my years of brain fog.
You Make Sense: a Youtube channel I like, to teach me how being human works
Therapy In A Nutshell: more videos I like
Heidi Priebe: relationships, attachment theory, and self-development
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