Lemonade Wisdom 🍋 "Acute Stress Response"

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August 17, 2026 4:43pm EDT

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Matte tone:

I am overdue for a real life "check-in" with the OMB community.

I walked into my therapist's office on Friday, already on day two. The day before had been six, maybe eight hours of debilitating anxiety that I could not get on top of, could not breathe my way out of, could not medicate down. I am in therapy twice a week, every Monday and every Friday. I have a psychiatrist for the first time in my life, and I have medication. I have done the work and I have the tools, and none of it was touching this.

This isn't a panic attack, she told me.

Panic attacks are short lived. You're having an acute stress response. I had never heard the term. Sixteen years into this work, and I had never heard the term. She left the room and came back with a vagus nerve stimulator, and I wore it for the rest of our session.

It has been a couple of weeks since I last wrote, and the truth is I did not know what to say. I do not have anything flowery for you this time, no hopeful note tied up neatly at the end. I thought twice about writing at all, because I know how many of you are carrying battles of your own, and I never want to hold mine up as though it weighs more than yours. It doesn't. I am showing up anyway, exactly as I am, because for fifteen years I have told you the truth about where I am, and I am not going to stop now.

I think about this community constantly. So many of you are living from one paycheck to the next and one trauma response to the next at the very same time, one car repair or one bad day in court or one missed week of work away from the whole thing coming down. I want you to know that I am not writing to you from somewhere above that. I am there too, right now, living both of those edges at once. I think it's important that we talk about these things.

There was only one other time in my life I felt "this" way...and I did not have the words for it then. In 2016, my ex brother-in-law was arrested for molesting a four-year-old little girl - caught in the act. Everything I had ever suspected, everything I had been told I was imagining, was validated tenfold. The thing that broke me was not just the arrest. It was sitting across from the lead detective, helping him identify victims. There were so many victims, and so many had yet to be identified. I said "yes," when I was already in a bad place, and I did not know what I was walking into.

Mothers from the community reached out to me, afraid to call the police themselves for reasons I understood, asking what I knew, and whether their own children were among the victims. One of them sent me photographs of her daughters, and I recognized one of those girls in the images the detective set down in front of me. I will not describe what I saw that day - I could not if I tried.

There was a little girl who was never identified. She had endured more than most of the others, and I could not let her go. I spent countless hours scrolling Facebook and mom's groups, searching for time-lapsed images, anything that might show me what she looked like now. I saw her in the children at the park. I saw her in strangers on the street. Every time, the anxiety would pulse through me until I could barely stand.

Within a month, I had a complete breakdown. I remember being on the floor of my bathroom, sobbing so hard I frightened myself, telling Glenn that a switch had been flipped and that I was permanently broken. I spent months on the couch, medicated, and there are whole chunks of that time I simply do not remember. They are gone. I truly believe that not being able to remember, is the body's way of protecting us.

So much of it was staring evil directly in the face, being force-fed the reality that there are people in this world that sick, and that there is no bottom to it. I remember being naïve once. Trusting. I remember wanting to go back to that version of myself and knowing that I never could. You cannot unsee evil once it has been made personal. You cannot unknow it.
I tell you this because my body has been here before. This is the second time it has been asked to survive something it was not built to survive.

Everything I built over the past fifteen years has been dismantled by the people who have made me their target. OMB was never about money for me, but it was enough to support myself and my daughters, and that is gone now. I have panic attacks at the thought of making rent, of covering our bills. Glenn just retired. He should be resting, enjoying the life he worked his whole life for. Instead he is working on his résumé, and looking for a part-time job because my disability limits what I am able to do.

This is taking a toll on my body, not just my mind. In the past six months, I have been put on high-dose steroids twice. Today, both of my eyes are swollen and my skin has broken out in hives. The acute stress response my therapist named is not an abstraction... I am literally wearing it on my face.

The legal bills keep climbing. After I send this newsletter out, I am going to make some pretty big payments to attorneys. There is a reason I represented myself in family court, and did not hire an attorney; I am not in the position to hire an attorney. As I watch the GoFundMe drain, and I am grateful for every single dollar of it, and I have no idea what I will do when that money is gone. The not-knowing is most of the weight.

I have been off social media for six months, and the coordinated attacks continue. They are relentless. Last week I read a new comment from someone saying I should be "taken out...permanently." I've already waved the white flag. I don't know how to make it stop, I am being terrorized weekly and it's taking a toll on me.

Then came the thing that finally pushed me over the edge last week. Glenn came home and told me that Truffles' cancer is back. We adopted Truffles in 2016 - two days before my ex brother-in-law was arrested. Two days. He came into my life at the exact moment it was about to come apart, and he became my lifeline through the worst of it. A kind soul at OMB taught me how to make him an emotional support dog. He would sense my tears, my fear, my anxiety, and bury his head in my lap. He lay beside me on that couch for months, my touchstone to the world at a time when I had lost my grip on it. Glenn carried me through that time. So did my dog.

For ten years, Truffles has been at my side, and I have never been so attached to an animal in my life. It is the diagnosis, and it is also the question that comes right behind it... how am I going to afford to give him a fighting chance. Money has never mattered to me the way it matters to some. I have been at rock bottom. I have been homeless. I lead a simple life -- and I do not need much. Luxury, to me, is being able to help my daughter when the brakes on her car go bad. Luxury is being able to plant flowers in my yard. Luxury is being able to give my dog a fighting chance.

I am not built to stand down in a fight, especially not when it is good against evil. For the past couple of years I have been navigating serious retaliation tied to legislative work, and it is the macro version of the abuse I survived in my own battle... the same playbook, aimed once at a system that did not protect my children, and aimed now at me. I have stayed on the high road because I have to be able to put my head on the pillow at night. When they go low, we do not follow. My integrity is the one thing they cannot take from me, and it has always been the thing that guides me.

I am weighing what comes next. I have considered handing the reins to someone else, and I am staying open to those conversations, because I do not yet know what is sustainable and what is not. I have received input from those in our community about the future of OMB, and I look forward to continuing these conversations. I consider myself strong. Resilient. I have built a life on being both. I am also wearing thin, and right now it is simply too much.

I do not have a bow to put on this. It's raw, real, and where I am right now. I continue to seek glimmers of hope. I continue to be intentional about cultivating joy. One of my favorite sayings is, "it's the little things..." I believe that with my heart and my soul. I continue to build my gratitude list, and this community is at the top of this list. Abuse...whether it is one-on-one or systemic, is isolating, and community is important during dark times. Thank you for standing with me, thank you for being part of this community.

If you are also struggling or navigating difficult things, I see you and I stand with you. I still believe that light is more powerful than darkness. Together, we are stronger.

In solidarity...and with love,

Tina

P.S. Some things to note:

1. Connecting with our community:
a) OMB Private Chapters (on Facebook) are FREE - go to www.ombchapters.com
b) The Lemonade Club -- my private group and we meet on the second Monday of every month at 6 PM Pacific time over zoom. Go to www.thelemonadeclub.com.
c) The Lemonade Power Retreat is coming up in November. Survivors coming together with a collective nod that says, "I get it." We have one private room left, and one space in a shared room. I am personally looking forward to a weekend of reprieve, surrounded by survivors. If you are interested in joining us, I would love to hear from you: [email protected].

2. The High Conflict Divorce Coach Certification Program starts next week. The army we are building is one of the few things that gives me hope in our present day system. If you are a survivor who wants to turn your lived experience into something that changes lives, this is the path. If you are interested in joining our next cohort, please reach out to me at [email protected]

3. Are you subscribed to the OMB blog? Click here to subscribe.

A testimonial from one of our January 2026 Graduates- and an invitation to apply for our August 2026 session!

"Tina Swithin's HCDC certificate program is everything you hope for and more. As someone who has been through a high-conflict legal battle, I felt incredibly fortunate to find a program that teaches so much of what I wish I had known earlier—led by some of the best in the field. The thoughtfulness and expertise behind this program are evident in its breadth, depth, and quality. Tina is one of the best teachers—and human beings—I have ever met, and each week felt like a true privilege." -Ati

Interested in joining us?

Key Highlights of the Program:

Self-Paced Online Learning: Weekly modules are released every Sunday at 6:00 AM (Pacific Time). Students typically spend 10-12 hours per week completing coursework.
Live Weekly Zoom Classes: Each week, you will attend one 45-minute live Zoom session led by founder and lead instructor, Tina Swithin. We offer two class time options (Wednesday evenings at 7 PM Pacific or Thursday mornings at 7 AM Pacific) to accommodate varying schedules.
Slack Virtual Classroom: Students will engage and interact with Tina Swithin and fellow students via our Slack platform, fostering connection and support throughout the program.

Apply today at hcdivorcecoach.com and start your new chapter.

Our mailing address is:

One Mom's Battle LLC
P.O. Box 123
San Luis Obispo, California 93406

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Lemonade Wisdom 🍋 "Acute Stress Response"

A what?

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