Hi, Internoodle. It's me, Dawn.
Wow, this has been a loooong time coming! I've been wanting to write about florals, life, babies (they're so magical! EEE!), and mental health for a while now. As someone with ADHD, if I don't make a list and prioritize the things I want to accomplish, nothing gets done. Nothing. Alas, I haven't made a list in a while and I just started to get with the program since recovering from my fractured spine in October 2020. We are approaching the end of January 2021 now and for the first time since I got injured, I feel like me. Well, whoever me is now. Since becoming a mother, me became fragmented and now I'm in the process of reintegration. I'm piecing the new Dawn together. Zero pun intended. Dawn means a new beginning & my life has been a series of those.... but whose hasn't? Anyway, I'm discovering who she is, what her values are, what motivates her, what interests her and so on... in a healthy and honest way. I'll explain:
I really want to dive in deep here, but I'm not a writer and there is just so much to say that I don't really know where to begin. I'm not trying to gain sympathy, but only connections. Perhaps what I say here will help someone who is struggling with similar issues. My mother abandoned me when I was 3 years old. She was a severe alcoholic (in fact, she later became homeless and held up signs for money for over a decade-- yep, that's my mom!) and so was my father. My father and her fought violently, and often. My earliest memory is of me trying to console my older sister while she was crying because my parents were in a fist fight. I think my mom was hitting my dad with a hanger? Or, maybe it was the other way around. In any case, I like so many of you out there, had a chaotic and insane childhood. I only realized, as a 32 year old woman that my earliest feeling was anxiety and that became a common thread in nearly everything I did. I had intense fear. Not debilitating fear per se as I understood how to adapt and ride waves of fear accepting it as the norm, but it affected most of the decisions I've made in my life. It affected my ability to feel accepted and lovable, who I thought I was, the way I felt about myself as a whole and my ability to trust anyone and literally most everything else. I sort of lived in a fantasyland since I ran away when I was 17 and moved to California, and I adjusted my memories to make them tolerable... so that I could feel normal. This led to a history of dishonesty within myself. I wasn't able to see me, because I was scared to open that box and reveal the terrified and sad little girl who resided there. Since beginning therapy in March of 2020, I've finally been able to look at all those scary memories I had "safely "compartmentalized. Though, we know there is never a safe way to store this information without dealing with it, because it always finds a way to manifest itself in a negative way. I personally have suffered with self-image issues, abandonment issues (so much so that I would put myself in harm's way to stay with people who were hurting me because I thought that was so much better than being alone). I've had self-esteem issues, difficulty integrating into groups, difficulty maintaining relationships, difficulty understanding what it meant to be a good friend. The list goes on. Anyway.... the intention of this blog isn't primarily about the events that have made me suffer, but more about how I found my way through the thick of it. And that is something we all have to do as humans, right?
Growing up, my father was often drunk and often angry when he was home (which was rare) and we were extremely poor. When I was 5 or 6 (I can't remember), we were living in a cheap hotel and my dad would wake us up at 2 am in the Colorado winter to sleep in the back of his Taxi while he did a paper route for extra cash. Becoming a mom has allowed me to meet my Father as a human-being and not just my dad. While I'm not excusing the way he dealt with these struggles, I understand and am able to forgive and let go. My mother, on the other hand, left a gaping hole in my heart that I thought was healed....until I had a baby of my own. I'll save these details for another post, but I'll just say this: It would have been nice to have a mom to lean on and get advice from and to help out after my firstborn. I had so many questions and nowhere to turn, except for turning to Google.... haha. Google has helped me significantly! Google made me feel less alone- so whatever. I relied on the internoodle, and here I am doing it again. The point is, I'm still finding my way, despite the forks in the road... I firmly believe that you can come from anywhere and with hardwork and persistence, and often times a little perspective, you can reach the stars and fly among them.
The goal of this blog is to purge- creatively and emotionally. In doing so, I'm hoping to make connections and help anyone who needs it. I'm not sure that telling my story will help in a significant way (because from a practical perspective, I don't think I'm that important), but perhaps it may make someone feel less alone. And that is a huge gain. On the other end of the spectrum, it may inspire someone to succeed in whatever makes their heart beat fast, be it florals or something else entirely. Whether overcoming trauma, or broadening your floral horizons... I'm here to extend a helping hand.
In this blog, I plan to keep it real. Warts and all. I plan to share stories of growth that will hopefully inspire those who can relate. I plan to focus on the positive and share stories about readers (if I get so lucky!) overcoming mental health hurdles. I plan to share bits about my journey with flowers, nursing school and being a mom and wife. I plan to share floral tutorials & tips.
All of these processes are about blooming--- you feel me?!
In general, I plan to bring what I have to offer to the table. Maybe it's a little all over the place, but so what? My thoughts need somewhere to go. Life is yours and you deserve to live it how you choose... sometimes things get in the way, and that's okay. Just keep swimming. XO, Dawn Tintari Here is a picture of me at 3 1/2, taken by my oldest half-sister. I think it portrays my general attitude at that time in my life. Haha. Thanks, SIS.
And of me & my favorite human.