My transformation journey…

Like a lot of us who enter into this work, it comes from our own transformation journeys. I was born in Colombia and experienced a traumatic immigration to the United States as a toddler, one that would separate me from my father until adulthood and put me in the hands of an abusive grandparent and subsequently a drug dealing step parent. As an adult, challenges would continue as I became a caregiver to my first husband and at 29 ultimately lost him to cancer, becoming a single mother to a 2 year old. I did find love again and remarried, thinking the biggest challenges were behind me, only to fall into a caregiver role again as my 2nd husband is a combat veteran and began to struggle with PTSD early into our marriage. 

As a kid, staying safe in an abusive home means having all your ducks in a row. Always being responsible and a constant people pleaser out of a sense of loneliness but also to survive. Pleasing the adults kept the beatings away. Consequently, as an adult, a life of hypervigilance is a must when disaster always feels just around the corner. And as a caregiver, you always have to have your sh*t together for those entrusted in your care, for their health and safety. 

Constantly looking over your shoulder brings about a certain anxiety and I had lots of it. The anxiety worked in my favor for a long time. They made me incredibly timely, responsible, someone who people would say “you’ve got it so together”. I was the person you wanted to go to in a crisis. That functional readiness and anxiety morphed into severe anxiety that included endless hours a day of ruminating and obsessing about past trauma, hypothetical future trauma, and what everyone must be saying about me behind my back. It was endless. I never experienced a quiet moment. EVER. My own mind just tortured me every waking second. Any new responsibility or stressor was becoming harder to bounce back from. I kept reiterating to every new therapist “I’m losing my resilience and my ability to bounce back. I’m so tired.” I knew this was scary as I was starting to fantasize about wrapping my car around a tree just so I could go to the hospital and get a “break”, you know some 24/7 care, maybe a little anesthesia. It sounded dreamy. Uh oh… that’s not good. Therapists would tell me over and over to try meditation. It’s really hard to meditate when you’re at war with your mind. But I was growing tired and now angry. I started to just interrupt and say “if you’re about to tell me to start meditating I’m going to lose it.”

But pain demands to be felt… and I wasn’t listening. The anxiety started to take root in my body, primarily my gut. At first it started as persistent heartburn and nausea. I was popping antacids like candy. Quickly it escalated to vomiting throughout the day with no warning or reason. One day I was driving my daughter and her hockey teammates to practice and I tried to fight the nausea the entire drive. I tried desperately to get them to their destination but didn’t make it before throwing up all over myself on the side of the road. It was explosive. I kept vomiting for hours. My husband came to get me and took me to the ER. I knew something was wrong but doctors found nothing. I had a vague IBS diagnosis (because they had ruled out everything else). The problem affected me at work too. As a corporate facilitator I frequently flew to my clients’ organizations and eventually had to ground myself and cancel all engagements as flying made the issue worse. Months of probes, tests, and medications later, my GI doctor insisted they just couldn’t find anything. Suddenly a lightbulb went off and I asked “hey doc, could this be caused by stress and anxiety?” My doctor quickly looked up from the computer and said “oh my god yes. I’ve seen patients destroy their insides with stress and anxiety. Is your life stressful?” I laughed, said yes, thanked them for their time and left. My body was paying the price for all that resilience. 

Like most caregivers, there’s no time to care for myself. Your family needs you and if someone in the family is ill, you will most certainly take a back seat. My therapist would ask me almost weekly “Yes, but Carolina what are you doing for you?” I’d frustratingly answer “nothing. I don’t have the money or time to care for myself and a long hot bath isn’t cutting it.” My husband’s PTSD was becoming worse and his suicidality escating. He couldn’t be left alone at certain points. I give the VA credit for doing everything they could. He signed up for every program, every therapy modality, and every medication, but nothing was making a dent. NOTHING. Out of desperation, I started looking for alternative treatments and stumbled into the world of plant medicine to treat PTSD, specifically Ibogaine. After finding an amazing Ibogaine clinic in Cancun, Mexico I sent him to embark on his healing journey and as soon as he came home, he paid it forward and sent me to start my own journey. 

So how did it go? I’ll cut to the chase. Fast forward a year later and I haven’t thrown up once since my treatment. Not once. That to me is absolutely remarkable. But I got something so much more than that during my journey. Thanks in part to my Iboga facilitator, I was reconnected with my soul and able to rescue all the parts of my soul that were stuck due to trauma. I felt whole in a way I had never felt before. That should have been the happy ending to the story, but it was just the beginning. My journey also uncovered a deep indigenous connection to the continent I left behind and a call from my ancestors to come home. A portal was opened, and now that we were connected, my ancestors would continue to communicate, come calling, and lay out my purpose in life. A series of events that included visions and souls asking me to reconnect them with their people began to happen. I am forever grateful for my Iboga facilitator (who is now a dear friend) who guided me through this time as I was so confused and frankly a bit freaked out. It is then that I learned I was undergoing a shamanic initiation and that my life’s purpose is to help reunite people with their souls. So here I am, helping people through their darkest days, helping them integrate medicine so they can continue to heal, and working with helping spirits to serve as a bridge between the physical world and the spiritual. My goal is to pay it forward and help as many as I can until my ancestors call me home.