Not My Circus or Monkey. In Fact, I Don’t Like Monkeys

After my dad passed, I got caught up in his overwhelming pile of problems—and forgot to take care of myself. Instead of focusing on my next steps or finding peace, I took on the chaos of my dad’s estate and all the people suing it.

Growing up, I never learned how to set healthy boundaries. As a result, family, creditors, and vendors all relied on me to solve their problems related to my dad’s estate. It became mentally exhausting—I simply couldn’t manage it all.

When I worked for my dad, I was responsible for paying bills, managing company finances, and dealing with his immaturity just to keep things running. I didn’t realize then: I was only responsible for my own adulting—not my dad’s.

All the extra responsibility pulled me down into a spiral of anger and guilt. I felt intense guilt for not recognizing my dad’s heart failure sooner. I became like a stick of dynamite—ready to explode at any moment. Setbacks with the lawsuit or stress at my new job would send me raging like a 130-pound tornado trapped in a tiny closet. Eventually, I realized I had to break from the chaos to focus on myself.