I went from doing a job that was draining my life away to a lifestyle that I know I am gonna love, if I would just get over the sheer terror of it all. Kinda like this girl and this lion.

(pixabay, creative commons)

As of this week, I'm a coach and mentor! I help people improve their communication, professional development, and their lives! I love this kind of work, I am thrilled to be doing it. I have experience doing this in the past as a community project creator, in the arts world, and through events and projects I have helped to create. And then I went to school to learn more about how to support community development through a mental health lense, and now I am coming through the other side, entering a new phase of my life.

When I am helping someone, I get excited about the possibilities, and I want to see their journey unfold. I am fueled by their small and large accomplishments, and I really love connecting and laughing with people along the way. In fact laughing and brainstorming with others is my fuel. Whether its making art and music together, or processing lifegoals. Laughing together is my manna.

But I am terrified! Because I am vulnerable too!

The powerful motivational icons out there, you know .. like Oprah or Ellen, or Brene freaking Brown... they allll talk about vulnerability. They say that's where growth is at. Thats where connection lives. Thats where the magic happens. And I am like YEAH ! YESSSSS! Coool ! LOVE . IT. Every time!

But its also where the BARF is, you guys.

Like yeah, I can be vulnerable. I do it a lot. Many of my posts on Steemit have been about me exposing my underbelly over here. Whether its my art, poetry, or blog posts like this. I keep standing up in front of you guys in a way that makes me feel pretty naked. I think maybe when I see Brene Brown up there talking about vulnerability I figure she already did it all. Like she did a bunch of vulnerability and now she is done. And perfect. And if I could only be like that too. A silly way to think, it turns out.

(pixabay, creative commons)

Vulnerability is the egg that keeps cracking open.

I have a hard history. I have learned to protect myself and my son above all else. So I kind of have been split. The hippy side of me that loves everything and everyone, and the abused part of me that is looking over my shoulder, looking around the corners, and covering my tracks. A little bit way too much. So none of the goo was getting out. Like the good goo. My art, poetry, and my human potential has been hidden for years because of this. But then I found Steemit and you know how the rest goes! <3. But then I share something and get all vulnerable and then it turns out there is still some goo in there. And I can only get it out... with more vulnerability.

There's a fun vulnerability. It feels like this to me:

Butterflies in my stomach
Sweaty hands
Fear of posting/ sharing
Maybe a little thrilling once I finally click "post" or take a risk of some kind

Here is how the stupid kind feels. Usually hours or a day after a vulnerable thing happened:

Loss of appetite
Insomnia
COMPLETE AND UTTER INERTIA ( I have not posted in days since my Letter to my Son)
Tears
Processing
Busting through the inertia
Repeat.

The good news is...

I havent had a really bad full on PTSD episode in more than a year and a half. But in case you are wondering here is what those look like and maybe you can see why I live in total fear of them. Its why I am so uncomfortable getting out of my comfort zone. When I am anxious, I get more anxious because it could morph into:

Insomnia for days
Hypervigilance (I get overly concerned with overthinking details of everything, checking my doors to make sure they are locked more than once in a short time frame, and other repetitive fear based things)
Flashbacks ( I have experienced severe abuse and I will get lost in reliving memories in great detail or I will re-experience the emotions of the event with a blocked memory)
Inertia, dissociation
Sitting in my car for hours in a parking lot
Eventually crying for hours (semi manageable), or non stop crying for days (time to call the Dr).
I can lose days to this stuff.

Thankfully I have not gotten to any sort of extreme episode but lately I have been kind of vacillating in and out of what I call the Frozen Zone.

All these things are triggering me:

New computer (have to adapt to the new environment)
New jobs (yes 3 of them now)
New hair
New schedule
New friends
New communities
New creativity
New identity
New Awesomeness EVERYWHERE

So Rejoice! And Freak Out! For I Do Both!

"So how can someone who has experienced these negative effects possibly be a mentor to someone else? " That is the voice that always stops me in my tracks. Thats the voice that makes me want to get back in my shell. Thats the voice that makes me afraid to tell the same people that I am sharing my strengths with, that I have incredible weaknesses, too.

Weak People Do Cool Shit!

I know that people who have fallen down can get back up because I am one of those people.

This isn't some trite nonsense. Falling hurts, and it's usually not cute. Some jerks even kick you on the way down. And getting back up can take a long assed time. And sometimes you think people are going to help you up and they just disappear. But it's still possible to get up.

I know that people with huge barriers can achieve their goals because I do this all the time. And I mess up. And I try again. And again and again and again.

I know that people with no "credibility" whatsoever can be the most amazing teachers. I have been taught new dimensions of love by tiny children with severe issues.

In 2012 My life was saved by someone who most people might say was very unstable herself. What can be more dignified, and giving, and freaking smart as hell , than quickly finding a place that no one would know, and hiding me for a week in a very small town? She died suddenly last August (2017), pretty much exactly 5 years after she saved me. Someday I will tell you about her.

Someday when I am ready I will tell you the beautiful story of hiding in a basement with hundreds of spiders and sleeping in a tent on a bed below the painting of an artist I admire.

Someday I will explain how all the "sane" people disappeared when I told them the truth of my relationship, and only the "crazies" stood by me, believed me, or helped me in any way.

Someday I will describe my town. Oh, what a town.

I get it, but I dont!

My point here is that I already know this stuff intellectually: I know that vulnerability is strength. I know that a shitty history does not make you a shitty person. Or that a negative story does not cancel out a positive attitude!! And that I can still carry on with helping others even if sometimes I lay in my bed with the blankets over my head!

But for whatever reason, I am STILL terrified of the stigma.

I am hoping to change that by spelling it out. I am hoping to walk my own talk, and push on through.

I want to tell you. I want to share how my pain has lead to my triumph - and then how things don't just neatly end there like a self help article... its always a process.

But it is so hard. My body isnt as ready as I wish it were.

That deep unconscious mind wants to protect me. So I have symptoms after I share stuff.

So I will share little by little.

Sometimes with my art. Sometimes with my poems. And Sometimes by talking straight like I am now.

I hope some of you are helped or affirmed by it.

Because you are certainly helping me.

Remember to be gentle and kind to one another!

We never know what each other are going though.

Love,

Dflo

(Collaborative art piece I made with a dear friend)