But... I hate needles!

Anyone that knows me, knows that I'm the biggest baby when it comes to needles. I'll do anything I can to avoid an injection or iv. So considering my needle phobia, what would push me to voluntarily sign up to not only be stuck with a needle, but to let someone remove a portion of my blood?! The answer- I have no idea.

I've frequently seen the blood drive mobiles sitting outside of stores and businesses. I have always wanted the courage to go in and donate blood to help others. I have O+ blood, so several types can receive blood from me. I've always let that fear of needles prevent me from doing such a selfless act. I am on a journey of self discovery, and in staying true to that I am working on getting rid of fear. I will never fully be fearless, I don't think. Some sense of fear is healthy for me. (Guy with candy and a van? No thanks!) My goal is to try enough new things that are out of my comfort zone, to eliminate THAT fear. Fear of the unknown.

Walking inside of a store to grab a couple of things, I spot the blood mobile. I don't give it more than a glance before walking past it into the store like I usually do. On the way out I walk by the bus, and see a sign by the door that says "this one donation could save the lives of 3 people." Something strange happened when I read that sign- I reached out an opened the door to the bus. Immediately I was hit with a wave of "hospital smell", that antiseptic, chemically clean aroma that you can only associate with medical procedures. The scent brought me to reality and I immediately felt my panic mode up to full alert! The woman inside wasted no time telling me to "come on in." I wanted to turn and shut the door and walk away, but something about seeing others in the bus made me feel like that would be selfish. So I got on the bus.

Waiting nervously I try not to look over to where there are a couple of women having their blood drawn. I knew seeing the needles and the blood would not be beneficial to my current level of anxiety. The woman calls me over to the desk to do the paperwork and asks if I had donated before. I stated that I haven't. She asks me what made me decide to donate today. I had to think about that for a second- why today? I blurted out the first thought I had- I'm on a path of self discovery, and this seems like such a small thing that could be so helpful. I want to try and overcome my fear to help others in a way that doesn't involve overwhelming myself. She smiled at me, and told me that it was a wonderful thought. She continued through the entire process, commenting on how amazing it is that I would try to learn more about myself and my limits. She seemed to see something in me I didn't see yet.

A young man comes over to take me to the donation bed, and I can feel my anxiety rise even more. He asks what I've eaten today, and tells me to just lay back and focus on something else. I stare at the wallpaper on my phone, an image someone had sent me. I begin thinking about things other than the task at hand, even while I feel the iodine being applied to my arm. He informs me that he's ready to stick my arm, and my mind responds my immersing myself in happy thoughts and memories. I barely notice the stick, and finally began to calm down.

During the collection process I find myself thinking so many things. Who would this blood help? Would it save a life? While I have been so concerned with one little stick- how many sticks, procedures, treatments etc. do the people that need this blood endure? Was this so painful that I couldn't do it again? I begin to feel a little lightheaded as I get to the end of collection. Normal they say when your body loses blood. The man tells me that I'm finished and removes the needle. I apply pressure and wait as he bandages up the donation site. Complete with hot pink compression gauze (how did he know I wanted pink?!)

At the end of the session, I am handed souvenirs- water bottle, t-shirt, a sticker... But the best gift is received in my mind and my soul. I overcame a fear. I did something to help others, regardless of the anxiety it caused me. I feel complete, like I did something amazing. The medical field relies on donors to stock the banks so they can save lives. If everyone worried about that one little stick, it would be pretty devastating to humanity. This alone is enough to be empowering; paired with my fear of needles and of the unknown I feel on top of the world!

BBQ sauce on a burger? The insanity!

My name is Kimberly and I have a fear of trying new things. Whew! I said it. The simplest "new thing" causes such a high level of anxiety in me. I don't know why. It seems simple- what's the worst thing that could happen if you try a new food? You learn that you don't like it. So why is it so difficult for me? I stick to the land of pasta, garlic and pizza because those are "safe."

I appreciate a good burger- with ketchup, bacon, cheese (cheddar or American only- calm down Swiss folks- that's crazy talk!). So what happens when I venture out to a hip burger joint in the middle of Little 5 Points with a menu full of everything-but-ordinary options? My entire life was about to change, based on one menu- and I had no idea it was coming!

So here I am, checking out the menu, and I find bacon- smothered in peanut butter and fried bananas.... um how about no thanks! I'm looking at the menu with that one friend that is willing to "try any food once." He finds some crazy "coronary bypass" situation on a bun to order (complete with a fried egg- what in the?!?!?!?)

I expose my childlike food issues to my friend, and immediately get the third degree- "awwww come on you have to try something new!" There is no way I'm allowing peanut butter or whatever the hell "atomic death sauce" is on my plate- so I take what I felt to be an adventurous move- and ordered a burger with bbq sauce on it. *giggles* Luckily, I got away with this "barely out of safety" choice- this time.

Are you wondering if I liked it? Yes and no. I learned that bbq sauce on a burger isn't the crazy mess I thought it was, however this particular sauce was a bit spicy for my taste buds.

The most exciting part about this specific dinner? This one push to try something new was about to spark a transformation in me that I never imagined.

Stay tuned!
~K.

The only person I can change is myself- but... what?

Who am I? To many, this will seem like a silly question at this stage in my life. I'm 29 years old, I have three children, I've been married and divorced twice. I should know by now who I am right? To be honest, this isn't the case. I've spent so much of my life focused on those around me that I forgot about the most important person in my life- myself.

How can you forget about yourself you might ask. It's simple really. I'm not sure at what point in my life I decided to label myself the caretaker- but somewhere along the way I did. I determined that I needed to take care of every person I encountered. I get a great sense of joy and pride from helping others. Whether I'm cooking a meal, helping someone register for school, or being that 2 am crisis manager- I gain so much self fulfillment from helping those around me. This sounds like a good thing right? To some extent it is wonderful. The world receives a generous caretaker, self-assigned to assist those in need. The problem is what I do during that helping, and that is where the breakdown begins.

What happens to your emotional health when you begin to take on someones problem as your own? The flaw in my helpful nature is the level in which I extend myself to help. I typically take the person's problem on as my own. I feel responsible for fixing this issue for them, regardless of my actual ability to do so. There is such a flaw in this way of thinking. The most important piece of information I have learned in my life is that I cannot change anyone but myself. (Thanks, Nana!) I can't make people act, think, or feel differently than they do. I can't fix every mistake they make. I can't take back their crime, indiscretion, or wrongdoing; I can't change their way of thinking. So that seems a bit like I'm helpless. False. I can help them, generally. I just need to learn a few things. The first being that I cannot take on their problems as my own. I need to learn to have a barrier, a buffer zone if you will, to maintain a healthy distance while assisting them with their struggle. The second thing is that I cannot actually fix you- you must repair yourself. I can only offer guidance through suggestion, share similar experiences that may help, and spark new ways to look at your situation.

Not being in control of the change does so many things to my psyche. I feel so many emotions when it comes to helping others. I often feel like if I don't handle it, or repair the problem, that no one will. I feel responsible for every person's happiness. Feeling that weight of the world on my shoulders is a very unhealthy thing to feel. How can I possibly fix every relationship, cure every depression, change every life path? The answer is simply one that I've refused to accept until now. I cannot fix everything. I am not in control of the universe. I am only responsible for one person's happiness- that person is me.

So where do I go from here? I cannot control the universe, I can only control myself. I've been so concerned with everyone else obtaining happiness and self worth, that I've forgotten about myself. I'm 29 years old and I don't know much about myself at all. I only know those self-assigned "job titles" that I've labeled myself with over the last three decades. The first step is understanding that I have something I want to change. I want to learn who I am as a person: my likes and dislikes, my strengths and weaknesses, what makes me happy. The next step is to search for those answers.

Enter in step 2: explore! Follow along as I try new things (even if they are scary!) I invite you to learn who I am in real time, as I discover who the real Kimberly Miller is myself. It's sure to be an amazing journey!

~K.