45/45-Trauma, Purpose, Epiphany, The End…

45 days ago, I sat at my kitchen table, having a conversation with my husband about taking care of everyone else, my whole life…and here, 45 days later, I have finally arrived where I thought I was then. 45 days was really symbolic of 45 years. I am not going to beat around the bush today, let’s get to it. Let’s move forward.

Tying your trauma to your purpose, is what a lot of us do in this life. Our natural tendencies will foster this path, making it not only something you have passion about, but something you excel at too. After all, you are trying to rectify something.

On my journey, I have been a damn good massage therapist, I hit a great stride, excelled and pursued this field with a singular focus of helping people sort out their problems, not just their symptoms. People would call me before they called their doctor, and would often have me tell them what to ask or say to their doctor to expedite their health care needs being met. I advocated for patient care, self care, and health care with my clients, with insurance companies, with physicians and chiropractors alike. I have given more output and information than I could ever imagine that I would, and often called it useless knowledge. I educated people on their soul’s dwelling, their house of this lifetime, the place I which we reside, and how our mental, emotional and physical all tie together.

Some things boggled my client’s minds about what I knew that traditional medicine did not, what their brilliant physicians did not, and what multitudes of medical testing did not. I was driven and guided by a divine source, one many people thanked for showing me, catching their skin cancer, or their aortic aneurysm, and then some. I worked on people and cleared channels for their struggles with conception to end, and new life to begin. I often facilitated that only through a text or a phone call.

I have been blessed to hold people while they were crying on my table, scared, worried, about their own health and the health of their loved ones, as they trusted me to help them find a feeling of peace to descend to see them through whatever was coming their way. I have told people about troubles they would encounter with their health, what to watch for, what to ask, and what to demand, who to demand it from. I threatened many a client with calling their doctor on their behalf, to get them to go consult about their bodies and minds, and have them checked out. No one ever regretted that in the end.

I have spent 24 years in a profession that I truly loved, that provided an outlet for my trauma. I had a purpose in not only helping people, but in helping myself too. I could “save, or fix” people in a sense, although that was not my intention, I am paraphrasing my clients. I could arm them with information, education and personal empowerment. I could guide people to better personal choices, and so I did, that is exactly what I did, what I would do all over again if I had it to live again.

Before I go too far, I want to address something. We all experience traumas in our childhood, and most people spend their lives trying to rectify that, deal with that, or understand that, and what it entails. I am a fast tracker. I don’t hold on, I don’t linger. I acknowledge, process, let go, and fly. And that is what I did a long time ago with my own upbringing woes. This last encounter with trauma, was not all mine though, and so this time dealing and processing was so completely different than what I knew from before. I couldn’t really address it the same, approach it the same, or release it the same…but the one thing in common, maybe the thing it set apart from everything else about me, was that it showed me how far I would go to protect, love, shield, carry and push forward for others…and that revealed the heavy burden of self expectation, the fallout due to my capabilities.

Expectation via high capabilities is what broke my body, because my mind would not. Ignoring the signs and symptoms that I needed to lessen my load went unnoticed as my mind pushed on, beyond normal, beyond anything comprehensible. I shouldered it all because others’ expectations of me, coupled with my own. I could carry, bear, shoulder, take the hits from, until I always broke clear for us both, for all of us, for whoever needed me to. I would not drop, I would not fail, I would untangle and endure until this SOB broke free, and then I would rebuild, re weave, and build back from the foundation up, a clear, fresh free foundation.

I had this mentality in my personal life, my relationship life, my work life, my parenting life, my friend life, my house cleaning life, my craftsmanship life, my whole damn life. I was a warrior on mission after mission. No man left behind, no one falling off the path, no one left wounded, no one getting lost. NOT ON MY WATCH. And yet, this was all part of my trauma. Protector, fixer, keeper, warrior, bulldog, tenacious advocate, nurturer, child. Yes, child.

I feel that I have finally stepped in to the 45 years of myself, not a day younger, not a day older, I am standing here greeting 45. And you know what I finally realized? I have been operating from my childhood trauma, I have been operating from my second coming of trauma, and I have been dealing with trauma that is not my own. While I denied that, with acknowledgment and acceptance, it has made me realize, I am pretty tired y’all.

I did not think I would deal with trauma more than that of my own. I was wrong. I was wrong and that shit beat and broke me. That shit made me realize that I have known the answers, but I have lied because of expectations not my own, because of expectations of my own, and because I was so capable of carrying anything, and everything, from everyone, and myself. I once said I over estimated myself, but I now know that is wrong, I simply didn’t know where I would go, how things would go, and how it would all turn out. The same divine guidance that guided me to assist my clients, guided me through the storms, took me through the storms, brought me out of the storms and is now telling me to enjoy the freshness after the storm.

So what does that mean? I thought 45 days was apropos to the next leg of my journey, and it is, but it was actually the end of this act, this chapter, this book. It wasn’t the beginning, or the middle, it was the end, not the happy ending we often joke about, but the end of the second trauma, the trauma not mine, and the trauma that drove my purpose the first half of my life. What’s left, what’s next???

I am in dire need of a break. I have been fighting, protecting, loving, nurturing, guiding, etc. for way too long. It took me a while to see, but I can finally say, I succeeded. I completed my purpose. My mission is done. I did not fail, I gloriously succeeded. Now, I can walk away, I can have a break, I can regroup before my next book. I am done. This is the end of one.

Join me tomorrow for the beginning of 70 days of a break, of self discovery, personal growth, and whatever comes my way, toward and for me. If you are needing some inspiration, a break, or are just intrigued at what I may say, I invite you to follow along, participate with me, or just be a stalkerish fan and see where this next journey goes.

Thank you for witnessing the Phoenix die.