Going to the Tower to see a show and came back a changed woman.

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TuesTea with Jax this week was about one of my crazy adventures from "the before time in the long long ago."

1999.

Below is me in my first apartment with my beloved Shannon-cat the year of this great adventure.

This was the year I really discovered the gap between who I was " programmed" to be - by the narratives of those around me - and my instincts - which came SCREAMING TO THE FRONT – and shocked everyone there, including me.

There is who I was when the day began - adventurous 20-something with a love of live music in a city with no friends. 

There is what did happen - a fabulous show, and a tough commute home. 

Then there is what I was capable of that even I hadn't fathomed before that moment.

I went in one person, and returned different. 

In a moment. 
I changed.

In this moment, my suicidal depression narrative really began to crack - and for the first time in a long time - a crazy event cracked me open and started to let light into the darkness of my internal dialog.

Evidently it was a pretty strong narrative, I required significant actual FORCE to even SEE IT.

Suddenly I understood that “scales fell from their eyes” and they could see clearly that is described in the Bible.  The scales fell from my eyes, and I saw myself more truthfully than ever before.

Turns out?
I was WAY MORE CAPABLE OF ALL KINDSA SHIT than I gave myself credit for.

Also - my desire to live was POWERFUL.

I found that straight up shocking to discover.  It was so much more clear than the tape that had been playing on repeat in my head.  But the fabric of my being was still there, strong, waiting to be fully seen.

And then: It was.

I had a history with the language and behaviors of depression and suicidal tendencies because it was demonstrated to me as the way to express pain.  Also, it was a way to push or pull the levers of other people emotionally – it was a tool to manipulate those others who I believed I needed to help me regulate myself – not consciously yet – but definitely happening. 

I was taught codependent depression that required others to keep me happy (I believed).

But that day? 

It was just me.

That day, when I stepped out of that car, I stepped out of the role of victim in my life.

I stepped out of many things - and I stepped into My Self.

My energy, my 'power', my 'inner knowing' - things that had been hiding in the back of my mind for years, uncalled upon, unexplored, unfamiliar because I had told them to be quiet for so long.

Even at the time, I gave credit to Dad for my instincts. He was the one who told me about driving a car and the slowest point of a turn, and how it should work, so even in that moment, I thought he had helped me.

Codependency is wild – we do not see the ways we are tied to others.

But now I know it was just the knowledge that dad helped me attain.

The desire to step? 

The willingness to step into courage from a state of complete fear?

That was all me.

It was the beginning of me waking up to myself. 

The spells that were cast over my mind/eyes/spirit cracked that day - and the light - the one INSIDE me - it started to shine outwardly.

I walked away marveling at myself, my decisions, my actions, my resilience, my fearlessness, and my desire to survive.

Eventually.  After I healed. 

And it took time to heal.

I was messed up after the event.

I had to rebuild myself again afterwards – stronger, more fortified, and more honest about who I was that I was rebuilding.

That - as many builders know - is often how the strongest structures are forged.

In wisdom, knowledge and experience – “hard earned”.  Ah.  That’s what they meant.

I began to slowly rebuild and tend.  First re-establishing trust with myself, my choices, trust with my community, trust with my city, trust with strangers, trust of all kinds, trust that my therapist was right and it would get better in time.

I had to rebuild trust everywhere because I lived alone.  There was nobody coming to rescue me.  Nobody even understood where I was right then – isolated, alone, acquaintances rather than friends, and family that had programmed the thoughts I was trying to escape.

I didn’t know where to go or what to do next.

The first weeks afterward, I feared a lot of things.  (Everything?)

Slowly I told those in my circle about what happened - not friends, I didn’t have those yet.

Acquaintances, vendors, shop owners where I was a patron.

I discovered some real gifts.

1. I had a community and
2. my community was full of a lot of folks who were eager to watch over me and help me feel safe again. The bartenders in the building next door to my apartment who welcomed me home through the glass window when I walked by at night. They looked for me - sometimes they'd call me in for a drink, but mostly, they just waved, gave me a thumbs up, and said, "I see you girl.  We gotchu."
3. My community helped me get through and re-establish trust. They were strangers, just like the guy in the cab was – but they were here to redeem him, and me.  Community.  Such a gift.

And I needed them after that concert.

Lunch hour filled me with dread – I hated to go anywhere alone after that.  I had lost all confidence in myself and my choices and instincts – “that got me into that position” that I spent very little time celebrating the instincts that “got me the feck out of that position” because?  It was what I knew best.

I hated to go out at night, and raced to get home before dark for the first several months.  I increased me therapist appointments, and called her frequently from home in tears because I was so freaked out about everything.  She was such a gift through that experience.

So many helped me rebuild myself and my world and my view and my trust and my joy and my community – I learned so much that year literally from the streets of Philly – rolling through that intersection, and cracking open my false beliefs and revealing my true self:

A powerful being with a strong desire to live, who will occasionally be an X factor because I will not be contained by a box, or a car, or a bus, or any other container folx wanted to place me in.

I learned I was even kind of interesting?  I could do badass things?

What ELSE didn’t I know about me? 
That question?

That was the gift.  I got curious, and that curiosity has lead me on the path to revealing my True Authentic Self – and all her weirdness and questionable decisions – because actually that bad decision?

It wasn’t a bad decision.

It was MY PATH. 

And it was AMAZING.

The adventure, the recovery, the discovery of self.  All of it.  And?  I’m here to tell the story.

Me, making kielbasa made by my grandmother in my first apartment; officially on the healing journey.

So. Many. Gifts.

Have you ever woken up from a trance you didn’t know you were under?

Do you want to wake up now?

That’s what I do – I help people wake up to who they are – their powerful, buried, hidden selves.  The selves that are waiting for you to discover them so you can turn into a superhero when you need to be one, too.

Did you know life could be like this?

I didn’t.

But I know now.

It is amazing.  I love it here.  I cannot wait to see what the next adventure is going to be!

Have a great week, y’all.

I know we’re surrounded by a lot of chaos right now. 

Be your own center.

If you need help doing that – hit me up.  I’m here for you.  Let’s help you help yourself.

I love you.

Xo,

Jax