I’ve just purchased two of the single bands with the words ‘One More Step’. I’m giving one to a friend who really needs a reminder that she can keep going, just one more step, one step at a time. For me, well it’s a pretty band but also so much more. Those words will be the perfect visual for me too. I was a Paramedic and then a Police Officer for a total of 20 years and as a result I have chronic complex PTSD and associated treatment-resistant depression, plus a multitude of other issues it brings. Every day, every step, is a struggle for me. Add into the mix my two beautiful kids who both have Autism, and a husband also with PTSD from over 23 years as a Police Officer, and things get extra tough. I’m hoping this band will be a beautiful reminder that if I keep taking that one step, I can keep moving forward. It will also give me something tactile to play with and help ground me during those times my anxiety takes over or I dissociate. I can’t wait for my bands to arrive. I also want to thank you guys for doing such an amazing thing, helping so many people in the process. I will continue to support your work. All the best.
I purchased the Continue strap because I've always wanted a symbol of what I've overcome in my past, and I've thought for a while of getting a tattoo of the semicolon as that is a well-known symbol for what I faced. I saw the strap and knew it was for me. I am 47 years old, and my "pause" really started in the late 90's when I got sick, and that physical sickness spiraled into deep depression, which only furthered the cycle. I had convinced myself that my children, young at the time, would be better off without me in their world. I was a failure, words carried from childhood into my adulthood especially now that my illness and pain kept me from accomplishing anything out in the world. I was finally able to find help through DBT counseling, it changed my life - mainly, because I learned to LOVE myself. I know that learning to love myself fully and unconditionally saved my life, my mind - body - spirit, my marriage, and put me on the road to help other people. I graduated last year 2017 as an Integrative Healing Arts Practitioner, and I help people learn to love themselves now, how to become resilient, and how to reprogram all that negative self-chatter that is so detrimental. My pause lasted decades, but it's time for me to make up for what I missed, and if I can help just one person CONTINUE the way someone showed me how to keep going, then I will have accomplished my life purpose. This strap is a daily reminder of where I am going, and how much I've grown. Thank you for this reminder.
I received a concussion five years ago as a result of a kid trying to show off playing volleyball and hitting me in the head. His five-second mistake had caused me five years of constant pain. I've had a headache ever since the accident and had to teach myself how to learn again. I also have a lot of memory issues from my post-concussion syndrome that can make life really hard. I have many dark days where I wish I wasn't in pain anymore. My Zox strap is a constant reminder to never forget that my brain matters and that I will get the help I need someday. It reminds me to never forget to take life one day at a time, and that there are brighter days ahead.
When I took acting classes in college, my professor always told me to let go of the critic in my head. Stop watching myself and be in the moment. And I tried. But even now, it’s sometimes a struggle to evict that critic from my brain when she’s lived there, in some studio apartment in my frontal lobe, for 29 years. I used to joke that since my blood type is A positive—A plus—perfectionism is in my blood. For my first sixteen years, overachieving was my normal. Spending hours writing a poem for extra credit when I already had a 97 in the class. Taking all day on my standardized tests—eating lunch in the library or guidance counselor’s office, isolated from my friends who had finished hours earlier. Experiencing so much anxiety my sixth-grade year that Mom had to write me encouraging notes every morning, and one teacher joked I would have an ulcer by high school. And then, the woman who was essentially my second mother died from cancer. I fell apart. I barely slept, balancing grief with exhaustion and four AP classes. Intrusive thoughts ruled my life. I wasn’t exactly suicidal, but I did sometimes wish for a bus to run me over because I couldn’t imagine living this way for decades to come. I labeled myself “crazy” and assumed I was the only person in the world with these problems. Fortunately, my parents got me to a wonderful therapist who diagnosed me with obsessive compulsive disorder. Like most of the public, I associated OCD with germophobia or checking locks, so the diagnosis came as a surprise. The breakdown was the tipping point, but I soon realized I’d dealt with this anxiety disorder my entire life…and the perfectionism was its main manifestation. With cognitive behavioral therapy, medication, and the support of family, friends, and the Good Lord, I’ve been stable for over 12 years. I’ll no longer sacrifice my sanity or health by pursuing an unattainable, distorted version of “perfection.” My Progress Not Perfection Zox reminds me not to beat myself up when I flub a ukulele chord or misjudge an angle while drawing. It reminds me not to let my distorted view of “perfection” steal the joy of the process. It reminds me to keep moving forward, and to be kind to myself when I fail. And it tells me that sometimes, good is good enough. As my therapist drilled into my head: “Finished is better than perfect.”
I am a chronically ill, domestic violence survivor. I had always been the strong one in my family; watching two people who raised me pass away. I escaped my abuser while being pregnant. Since then I have become a very strong and independent mother who has to fight multiple rare diseases daily. Even though I am chronically ill with PTSD, a brain disease, three immune diseases, and inflammatory issues; I work over 40 hours a week as an accountant, climbing the corporate ladder. I look at my son and remember to believe in myself. That someday I will feel better. Someday I will not have all I can do to get out of bed. That I NEED to believe in myself. My son needs to know his mother is strong, and nothing in this world can stop her from fighting. I originally was on the internet trying to find some sort of bracelet to act as a buffer between my wrist and desk while I am at work all day. I had surgery a year ago where my wrist was fused together and the screw heads were causing issues. When I found ZOX, I found more than a bracelet. I found ways to not only help my wrist, but a way to be my positivity reminder throughout the day. Now I own a few. When you have been through enough trauma, the little things mean the most.