Comfort Zone
As the nights draw in, and the winter chill bites at our doors, I look forward to the hibernating rituals of getting cosy, snuggling up on the sofa, closing the curtains, and going to bed early (if I go any earlier, I will meet the “morning me” getting up). These are my creature comforts. It got me to thinking, we all want to live lives of comfort, whether it be winter summer or spring. We design our homes to optimize safety, warmth, and a space to relax.
What then, does it mean, to step out of our “comfort zone”? I don’t think it is a “literal” term? Like deciding to go to bed in wet pajamas, (someone of us don’t start of that way, but later in the night….). Or instead of a warm cocoa at night, we pour ourselves a cup of cold unstewed tea (some people may favour this!). I use the term to apply to challenges I deliberately set myself, to get “out of my comfort zone.
I have always spent my life working towards goals and pushing myself. This mindset has served me well and I have always been disciplined in my work. I reflect and see that there have been many times that I have pushed myself beyond what I thought I could achieve. But somewhere I found the faith to chase my dreams. In the last year or so, I have most definitely remained tightly in my “comfort zone” to heal and convalesce. Until last week, when I started a new venture.
I have worked all my adult life, without any employment break. Even after the birth of my second and third child, I didn’t take the full maternity leave, both falling at a time when I had taken a management role that demanded a lot of my attention and time. As a mother of three, with a career, although the roles I have played have always been caring and nurturing, I have never been able to volunteer. Time has been the only barrier.
However, even though I have not been gifted more time now, I decided to dedicate as much as I can each week, to a passion I have for helping those in crisis. As you will know, if you are reading this blog, and visiting my website, I have complex-ptsd and every day I am learning new things about the condition. During the research for my writing, I discovered the Complex PTSD Foundation and have become a volunteer for them. I have written about this in another blog post.
For the first time in a long time, I stepped out of my comfort zone. As I entered unfamiliar territory, participating in online discussions with other people across the globe, I felt unsettled at first. For the first time, I witnessed stories told by victims of trauma, in real time. My role is not to provide advice, or therapy, but to hold space and validate. But in the first two sessions as a new moderator, the host for the Zoom calls had called in sick. This left me alone, without a mentor, on a site, without any experience of what I should be doing.
I realised that I could sink or swim. I could decide that it was too much. That I may end up being on my own again, if someone rings in sick, that I don’t have the skills or experience to navigate the site. In my mind, a voice berated me, telling me I am not good enough, I don’t belong. But another, quieter but more persistent voice told me to have faith. To credit myself with putting myself out there, taking a risk and not abandoning a task when I found out I would be alone.
On the second Zoom call, the participants all joined, and without a mentor, I had to unmute and announce who I was, and that I am here more as a learner, and that I am unfamiliar with the group, but willing to learn and support anyone who needs. The group were very welcoming, and I made sure to acknowledge everyone’s comments, verbal and typed. I even talked a little bit about the week before. The time passed so quickly and in the end I realised that I had succeeded. The group thanked me, and, later that evening, one of the leaders praised me for putting myself out there and seemingly saving them from a meeting were otherwise, there would have been no moderators.
When we enter unfamiliar territory with Complex-ptsd, this can be a trigger. I knew this when I agreed to work for the Foundation but at the same time, I recognized that, all the times in my life before, when I pushed through and beyond my comfort zone, it made me stronger. I believe that this too will not only help those who are members of the Foundation but will give me a sense of purpose and belonging. It is the first role I have that is very personal to my own journey. It helps to give me a sense of identity. I don’t know where the new work will take me, and I hope that along with my website, this venture will expand, and that I can invest more of my time working with Complex-PTSD survivors. In the meantime, I will return to some of my go-to comforts, my family, home, and my role as an ANP. If you or someone you know is suffering, please reach out, either online, or to your own NHS GP or 111.
