Yesterday I helped someone. All I did, and I mean this sincerely, ALL I DID, was make a few phone calls to Fresno California, on behalf of someone who was legit just burned out of feeling like they didn’t have anyone in their corner.

Yes, that was great, cool whatever, honestly? This post isn’t about what I did, and it’s not about who I helped, but instead, it’s about the fact that I WAS ABLE TO HELP SOMEONE IN ANOTHER COUNTRY.

“I” Was able to help someone else. I haven’t done that since I left the Church. I haven’t picked up a phone and said “hey, what can we do to help these people?” and actually had it work in such a long time, that I forgot I used to know how to do this, really well.

I was in the middle of writing about my mental health when I saw the tweet and realized I could do something. I’m not feeling so great as I write this because I have a chest cold, that will inevitably become sniffles and snot soon enough, so yeah not feeling my best.

Let’s NORMALIZE picking up someone else’s weight while putting our OWN weight down for a while.

But how hard was it to pick up the phone, google a few phone numbers and make some calls? Took me about half a friggen hour. And in that 30 minutes, the issue was for the moment, solved. I was a part of that. The confidence that being able to help, when we’re dealing with our own mental or physical issues, is an astronomical leap from what I felt yesterday morning when I first got up.

I stayed in bed later than usual, which I’d done on Monday as well, because damnit I was sick. And yes I knew there were meetings but I couldn’t be arsed. I’m not getting paid to go to these meetings, and honestly? After a year of SERIOUSLY hard work on myself and this website, my body needs a break. (ON A FRIGGEN BEACH WITH TREES, IN A BEAUTIFUL HOUSE I DON’T HAVE TO PAY FOR, AHEM!)

That aside though, as soon as I got the clear call, I called my mom to say “hey guess what I was able to do?” And we talked about the fact that I used to do this all the time, that I used to be the person who picked up the phone and made the calls that helped people. Whether it was for a long while or a short while, I was good at what I did.

Dealing with all these issues – all of the shit – that comes with remembering all the bad stuff, knocked me off course and made me forget that, and this person who needed “my” help, was the reminder that “I” needed, that I am going to be okay…too.

We’re in completely different brackets of the world. They are in entirely another country, but both of us need reminders that we’re not alone, and I think yesterday was a message from the universe.

I’ve been paying attention to them more lately because honestly, as crazy as it sounds, we all need SOMETHING, bigger than ourselves, than our current physical beings, to remind us that our existence isn’t about being pretty, smart, or even perfect. It’s about what we DO with those things that matter.

How do you use what you know, to help others who want to know, but don’t know where to start? How do you help someone whose so overwhelmed that all they want to do is curl up and scream because they can’t find the words to describe the devastation they are feeling?

Imposter SYNDROME is a DIAGNOSABLE mental health SYMPTOM of being knocked on your ass by TRAUMA, in ALL his pissy ANNOYING forms.

Imposter syndrome happens when we’re so overwhelmed by what is going on around us, that we forget we know how to do the things that we spent lifetimes learning how to do exactly for situations when someone ELSE may need our help.

There are soldiers who train their whole lives to be doctors, and even in the most important moments of their lives, they freeze. It happens.

I’m learning that it’s not enough to KNOW what to do when the time comes, it’s also about knowing that we know, about reminding ourselves, “yes, something big is happening, we can handle this, we’ve been here before.”

For some people reaching out to old skills is easy, they don’t think twice about knowing how to make their hands, eyes, ears, nose and everything else works the MOMENT they need them to work. Some of us take longer, some of us need more reminders, some of us are too overwhelmed to understand that we’re in the moments we’re in because that is precisely where we need to be.

There were floods across the lower mainland this past weekend. Hundreds of animals died, a bunch of people did, but hundreds lived because as a group humans worked together to save the lives of as many living creatures as they could. That’s powerful majick.

That’s powerful. “Chicken’s are dying.” “Okay, let’s save them.” I mean I don’t eat chicken much, but as animals, as living creatures, I’m not going to lie, a lot of chickens died so that I could eat. The fact that the farmers who raise these animals so that people like me can eat, never really swept past my brain. They actually CARE about the lives of these animals, enough to risk their own, in an event that caused many humans death, which means something to me.

There is a divine cycle to the universe, and in my job, at the Church, I was reminded of that a lot, but I didn’t appreciate it. I was angry, I was bitter, and I was constantly feeling like it didn’t matter what I did to help, there were always 30 more waiting just outside my office door.

We as humans are constantly looking for signs, we’re constantly looking for moments when our lives matter, and in my case, growing up in my 20s taking care of everyone around me, made me resentful and bitter.


It only got worse as my mental health declined because I could feel myself falling, but there wasn’t anyone to pull me up. The people that tried literally pushed me in 1001 directions that I wasn’t ready to go, so I would be the person THEY want me to be, and I had to let go of all of them, in order to discover that who “I” want to be, is never going to be the person people expect me to be, whether they like it or not.

I have to be okay with that, I have to find a way to get right with the fact that it’smy jobnow, to be myself, and that being myself means that some people won’t get me or agree with me, or like that I don’t care whether they do or not.

I am the Loud Mouth Brown Girl, and the last 4 years have been about discovering what that means.

  • What does she look like?

She looks like me.

  • What does she do for a living?

For a living, she’s a writer – with a boss that doesn’t pay her shit, compared to what she damed well deserves.

On and on I can go, but every question ends up with the Loud Mouth Brown Girl being me, the girl who can pick up the phone and advocate for someone she doesn’t even know, because that’s what I do. THAT’S the brand. So now that I remember I have these skills, I just need to figure out what the fuck I am going to do with them.

Sending all my love,

Devon J Hall

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