Hi my name is James, my followers and even some of my irl friends know me as 
One of the biggest things that have happened recently was an idea. Not necessarily my idea but an idea i’ve shaped into something i believe can be used for good, especially here on steemit.
The idea is to form a hashtag, a place for people to express their feelings explain their invisible illness and work on it with others in a productive and compassionate way. That hashtag is #letstalk
Originally I heard of letstalk through a fundraiser by canadas bell corporation, the idea being that once a year we’d have a day to bring up our trauma or our illness. The problem I have with this strategy is that the other 364 days of the year no conversation is being had.
So i think the best way for me personally to start this conversation is to tell my story from the beginning. I’m not the greatest storyteller but i do have a story to share, therefore here is me, the past me and how it all leads into this moment and the future.
A special thanks to 
My story begins when I was 4 years old, my earliest memories, i lived in a tiny town of only 400 people, in rural Manitoba, it was here I experienced many firsts including death, at 4 years old my great grandma passed away, i didn’t understand right away but was not sheltered from it, abruptly my morher and father decided it was time for a freah start for me and my infant brother.
So we moved across the country, from 5-7yo i lived on the haida gwai, a beautiul little island north of vancouver island. A rainforest and a peaceful village were what we found, life was good but something happened, my mom and my dad split up, while my mother stayed on the island my father made the decision to pack me and my brother up and move away. We landed in Cranbrook bc and i spent the next 12 years there, my fears and my depression started in this move. My mom was gone, not permanently but absent enough where i blamed myself for the separation, I developed insomnia and had a deep rooted fear of death. As a few more important family members passed away and my fathers house degraded into a hoard i became acutely sensitive.
I didnt have friends over because of the hoard, i barely slept as a youth as i would lay awake at night consumed by fear and self doubt, in grade 5 i began getting bullied and my diet left me malnourished and small. Dealing with the deaths of my aunt i began fundraising for the canadian cancer society, played sports and got heavily into movies and art. Yet the hole wouldnt fill, the hoard got worse and my disconnected way of living made me introverted and quiet. My life was both good and full as well as scary and empty. It wasnt until highschool that the suicidal thoughts came into action, my fear of death turned into something more, a longing for answers and meaning in a poverty stricken life had me dwell further into the media that i consumed. Without sports im sure i would never have made friends. I started to do better. I graduated at 17 and then i hit a wall.
17, i got into a serious car accident, leaving my back and shoulders seriously damaged. I decided to go to college and dropped out at 18 because in the house i had rented for myself i was house invaded and beat nearly to death by 3 guys in bandanas and a metal baton.
Ptsd and memory loss, 15 staples on the top of my head and the loss of desire to move forward are my rewards for that night. But i have moved forward.
It took 7 years.
I still have troubles, my memory and my physical conditions have never fully recovered, the only thing i was able to do was move forward and put my past behind me, shockingly i started to do better, i found a woman a good job and began making a family. In the first pregnancy i lost my job, i got pneumonia and i nearly died, all my progress had been taken away in those moments. But in that i found steemit and began my online mission to make a better world than the one i had, for my children.
I was given a second beautiful child.
I couldnt bare to have them live the way i did, this is my goal.
Although this story is broken and full of holes, what i need is my community to ask questions and help me find a purpose behind the pain and make something beautiful out of it.
So thoughts, reflections and a conversation is what im after in this post.
I would love for others to tell their stories even if they are broken and jumbled so we can put together our pieces in order to move ourselves into a brighter path.
My canvas is going to be a long day in a bright valley, my cause is a song. Help me write the chorus, help me move on.
I know not who i am, only pieces of who i was, thats why james is gone and dizzyjay is here to tell his story. The me ive created with the puzzle pieces that managed to not get lost along the way.
If steemit means what it means to me to you. I want you to write up a letstalk too.
Tell us your battle, show us your scars.
Lets heal together and create a place for people to feel safe.
If you suffer from a hidden illness, do a #letstalk , if you have tears that need to fall, do a #teardrops post, if you or someone you love is being taken advantage of or feels theyve lost the battle with the cps tell us about it in #familyprotection
Much love.
