Let's face it, we all have a comfort zone. Whether it's one that we created ourselves due to our childhoods, our past experiences - personal, romantic, whatever - or whether it's just happened naturally.
But there are times in our lives that we need to take that scary step outside of it. The square, the personal space, the walls around ourselves. Sometimes it's been necessitated by an event, trauma, or just simply when you feel that you've missed out on too many opportunities because of The Wall.
Let's call it Trump's Wall, shall we? As an analogy. At times, I think it's apt.
My own personal Trump's Wall was erected a very long time ago, when I was a child. When you're Deaf, or differently abled (or, heck, different in any way!), this can be hell through your childhood, through school, and in terms of the relationships between you, your peers, and grown ups. You're treated differently, even in the small ways. I hated sleepovers and slumber parties, because I was always the first one asleep - it's hard to lipread in the dark! And this led to my "friends" coming up with fun little pranks to play on the sleeping kid. This may have been fun for them, but it was, bit by bit, soul destroying for a child who simply only wanted to fit in. I guess, looking back, this just led me on that path. Of wanting to fit in, wanting to be like my peers. Smoking as a teen, doing drugs, drinking til I passed out, getting pregnant at 18, giving birth at 19 as a single parent. And so on. Party-goers would always exclaim "You're so cool!" but, in hindsight, it was only because I was "different" yet doing the same things as them. As if that was a surprise?
Anyhow. This comes to today. In the last six months, Trump's Wall has slowly come down. It's had to. It's essentially because of that wall that I ended up where I was, in hospital in a severe mental health crisis. I had to learn, instantly, that when I needed something, I had to ask for it. I had to learn to fight for myself. I also had to learn about what it is that I wanted. Whether that was right now, or out of life in general, or mentally. But, in turn, with Trump's Wall coming down and I'm stepping out a bit more - albeit gingerly at times - it's made me slowly regain the confidence I had before I started my slow but ruthless spiral down. Not only that, but probably has made me more confident in some ways. I've learned when to say no, I've learned to be more upfront when I want to say something to somebody, instead of my usual not saying anything and being "that's fine, whatever you like". In some ways, my family and friends have also had to learn to deal with me when I say I'm not happy with something, or simply just when I want to be honest. Fortunately, they seem to accept this, and even encourage it.
Another benefit of going out of my comfort zone are doing things that I had always wanted to do, but wasn't confident enough to so, was scared of what others would think, or, mostly... I didn't want to let myself down.
Fuck that. Not anymore.
So, in the last six months, I've been on pretty powerful medications for my mental health, and I'm proud of it. I'm proud of myself for taking them, for helping myself, for how far I've come. I've also done so many amazing things - went out on amazing dates, experienced new things sexually, met new people, had new relationships, new friendships. I also joined the gym (for the first time ever at 39 years old!), got my nose pierced, got a tattoo, completed a hard walk solidly uphill to the top of a few big ass hills for Mental Health Week (fundraising), enrolled at Massey University to do two foundation courses via summer school, and then enrolled, and was accepted, to do a BA degree in Social Policy, starting next year. I also took my children a trip to visit family. So many things. Sometimes, yes, I do crash a bit. But you know what?
I love it. I absolutely love it.
Bring it on! I'm glad that, after three decades of being unsure, scared, worried about what others would say, and just keeping to myself... I've stepped out of my comfort zone.
My tattoo means hope. It represents hope, wishes, desire, in Maori. And it's absolutely perfect for me. I can look forward to the future, knowing that I'll still have my moments, but I can pull myself up and out, and have the confidence to do so. That's what Trump's Wall has done for me.
But there are times in our lives that we need to take that scary step outside of it. The square, the personal space, the walls around ourselves. Sometimes it's been necessitated by an event, trauma, or just simply when you feel that you've missed out on too many opportunities because of The Wall.
Let's call it Trump's Wall, shall we? As an analogy. At times, I think it's apt.
My own personal Trump's Wall was erected a very long time ago, when I was a child. When you're Deaf, or differently abled (or, heck, different in any way!), this can be hell through your childhood, through school, and in terms of the relationships between you, your peers, and grown ups. You're treated differently, even in the small ways. I hated sleepovers and slumber parties, because I was always the first one asleep - it's hard to lipread in the dark! And this led to my "friends" coming up with fun little pranks to play on the sleeping kid. This may have been fun for them, but it was, bit by bit, soul destroying for a child who simply only wanted to fit in. I guess, looking back, this just led me on that path. Of wanting to fit in, wanting to be like my peers. Smoking as a teen, doing drugs, drinking til I passed out, getting pregnant at 18, giving birth at 19 as a single parent. And so on. Party-goers would always exclaim "You're so cool!" but, in hindsight, it was only because I was "different" yet doing the same things as them. As if that was a surprise?
Anyhow. This comes to today. In the last six months, Trump's Wall has slowly come down. It's had to. It's essentially because of that wall that I ended up where I was, in hospital in a severe mental health crisis. I had to learn, instantly, that when I needed something, I had to ask for it. I had to learn to fight for myself. I also had to learn about what it is that I wanted. Whether that was right now, or out of life in general, or mentally. But, in turn, with Trump's Wall coming down and I'm stepping out a bit more - albeit gingerly at times - it's made me slowly regain the confidence I had before I started my slow but ruthless spiral down. Not only that, but probably has made me more confident in some ways. I've learned when to say no, I've learned to be more upfront when I want to say something to somebody, instead of my usual not saying anything and being "that's fine, whatever you like". In some ways, my family and friends have also had to learn to deal with me when I say I'm not happy with something, or simply just when I want to be honest. Fortunately, they seem to accept this, and even encourage it.
Another benefit of going out of my comfort zone are doing things that I had always wanted to do, but wasn't confident enough to so, was scared of what others would think, or, mostly... I didn't want to let myself down.
Fuck that. Not anymore.
So, in the last six months, I've been on pretty powerful medications for my mental health, and I'm proud of it. I'm proud of myself for taking them, for helping myself, for how far I've come. I've also done so many amazing things - went out on amazing dates, experienced new things sexually, met new people, had new relationships, new friendships. I also joined the gym (for the first time ever at 39 years old!), got my nose pierced, got a tattoo, completed a hard walk solidly uphill to the top of a few big ass hills for Mental Health Week (fundraising), enrolled at Massey University to do two foundation courses via summer school, and then enrolled, and was accepted, to do a BA degree in Social Policy, starting next year. I also took my children a trip to visit family. So many things. Sometimes, yes, I do crash a bit. But you know what?
I love it. I absolutely love it.
Bring it on! I'm glad that, after three decades of being unsure, scared, worried about what others would say, and just keeping to myself... I've stepped out of my comfort zone.
My tattoo means hope. It represents hope, wishes, desire, in Maori. And it's absolutely perfect for me. I can look forward to the future, knowing that I'll still have my moments, but I can pull myself up and out, and have the confidence to do so. That's what Trump's Wall has done for me.
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