Waiting to Exhale

*inhales

It’s been a little less than a month since I turned thirty-two. It came with a new set of creaks and cracks in my joints that I’ll be needing to smooth over with five deep breaths in my favorite yoga poses. In the midst of celebrating yet another revolution around the sun, I also confronted something that I’d been silently (and sometimes not so silently) battling for years. 

At the request of my therapist, I saw my psychiatrist for a second opinion on my mental health diagnosis. 

Turns out…….I’m schizophrenic. I’m certain that this may (or not) come as a shock to many of my readers, family and friends alike. 

But it’s my truth.

It’s a truth that I’m not ashamed of. It’s a truth that I embraced with peace and acceptance. As my psychiatrist and I were in my session, I immediately felt a sense of relief because I could finally put a name to the chaos that filled my head. A chaos that I had misunderstood as depression and anxiety. A chaos that I had chalked up to my upbringing. To religion. To my “free spirited and wild hearted” personality. But a majority of who I am has been riddled with mania, psychosis, paranoia, delusions and hallucinations. Like, a lot of it.

My psychiatrist reassured me that not everyone suffering from schizophrenia fits the classic textbook symptoms or “acts out” like the people we see in the media. She even said that she was proud at how much I’d been able to accomplish and was curious as to how I’d been able to mask most of my symptoms, to which my response was “I had no choice.” It was also during this session that I learned that people can suffer from high functioning schizophrenia just as commonly as people suffer from high functioning depression. 

We discussed options for treatment and I was open to starting a low-dosage antipsychotic in combination with weekly therapy visits and bi-weekly psychiatry visits.

I’ve always been my own biggest advocate and this by far has been the best decision I’ve made for myself. It’s been a month since I started my medication and I can genuinely feel the difference…..which was the goal. My therapist is proud. My support system has been supportive. And most importantly, I’m proud. 

If you’ve been supporting this blog for a while, you know I’ve always been pretty transparent about my mental health journey. I’ll be honest. This took me a moment to process in terms of how I was going to share. Mental health is soooooo stigmatized as it is especially within the black community. Then you combine that with the negative media portrayals of those suffering from schizophrenia. It’s clear to see why I chose to be careful. 

I’m not gonna give you the statistics, but just know that there are a lot more people suffering in silence. I simply choose not to be one of those people. Nor am I choosing to allow my diagnosis to restrict me from the life that I choose to live. 

I hope that this blog in particular helps someone feel less alone about it. And I also hope that it inspires someone to seek the mental health help that they need.

*exhales

It’s My Party……

And I cried because I NEEDED to,

You would cry too if you walked in my shoes.

Yesterday was my 31st birthday.

It was yet another year of celebrating life in the middle of this pandemic. Unlike most birthdays before last year, I wasn’t genuinely excited.

I knew that this year would be somewhat different since I now live in Texas and most of my family and friends live in North Carolina. 

It began as one of the most “un-birthday-est” birthdays ever. 

I’m used to celebrating throughout the week amongst friends, family and strangers alike. 

Karaoke.

Dinners.

Bar hops.

Vineyards.

Smoking cigars.

Kayaking.

Connecting with nature, 

Hood rat shit with my friends.

This pandemic forced me to do some serious shadow working.

I have had breakdowns galore. 

I have had some rough wild nights.

My support system is A1. 

This revolution around the sun is propelling me forward. I feel it. 

Leering go of the things that torement me. The things that kept me bound. The things that lived rent free in my head for far too long.

It was hindering all that I was trying to manifest.

And on my birthday things changed. 

There was shift. The good finally about to outweigh the bad. 

I got that message very loud and clear. 

Yesterday was an entire party just for me.

And dammit I cried!

Thank you all for allowing me to share this space with you in this lifetime. 

Time to rebrand.

And the award goes to…..

In spirit of one of the podcasts that’s kept me afloat this year, The Brilliant Idiots, I think that this quote is reasonable.

If you think 2020 was your best year ever, you’re absolutely right. If you think 2020 was your worst year ever, you’re right too.

Many of us don’t even have the words for what 2020 was. 

Nothing I did was on my vision board. 

My planner looked like a kindergartener had scribbled through it.

I started a new job as a middle school teacher. 

I quit that new job and moved to Texas. 

We got hit with the pandemic quarantine. 

I made $1000 Instacarting one week. 

I got fired from Instacart. 

I had to ask my friends to help me pay my bills.

I finally have a bed after sleeping on a blowup mattress for months. 

I worked at the IRS for 2 days and quit. 

I worked at a hospital for a month. 

I fell in love again. 

If that isn’t Oscar worthy, I don’t know what is. 

2020 showed its ass. 

I’m actually eager to see what 2021 has in store. I’m rather used to this Jordan Peele production we’ve been in for 90% of 2020. 

I’m looking forward to all of the creative ideas being birthed from this pandemic. All of the healthy conversations that are taking place. People are reading again. People are writing again. Strangers are networking. Folks are finally pursuing their passions. 

I love to see it. 

Please do set intentions. 

Please do the shadow work. 

Manifest that shit!

2020. Deuces!

Escaping Survival Mode

According to Psychology Today, “survival mode” is an adaptive response of the human body to help us survive danger and stress. 

From the outside looking in, many people would assume that I had an overall healthy childhood and adolescence. I was raised by my grandparents in the country. I got good grades. I never came off as disobedient. My yes mams and no sirs were always polished. Despite being a “good kid” raised in a super religious household, my life has never been exempt from trauma and dysfunction. I am almost certain that I’ve suffered from depression for years undiagnosed. 

I recently read and shared an article that discussed the immobilizing effects of depression. I recognized myself immediately. I wasn’t in a position to get out of the environment that I was in so I mentally became immobile. I don’t remember how I learned to control my rage. How to play along. How to seemingly “fit” into that world until I could get out of it.

Fast forward to now.

At 30. Far removed from the people, places and things that brought the trauma and dysfunction into my life, I still catch myself functioning in survival mode.

It is very difficult to escape this mindset.

I’m constantly reminding myself. I question my decisions alot. Why am I doing this? When it’s time for me to make important decisions I ask myself if I’m doing what I want to do or what needs to be done? Anything involving money and I’m asking if I’m buying an item from a headspace of lack.

Whatever helps right?

To the person that resonates with this blog:

1. How are you or have you been working on escaping a mindself of survival mode?
2. What has been your biggest challenge?

Old Intentions, Current Realities

Here’s my “perfect” day:

• Wake up
• Walk Milo
• Meditate
• Breakfast
• Check accounts
• Start work (reading, writing)
• Lunch/Gym
• Check accounts
• End work (reading, writing)
• Dinner
• Walk Milo
• Meditate 
• Bed

Two years ago, I was in a completely different headspace than I was now. This was when I had quit my corporate job. I was fully convinced that I wanted to pursue writing full time and that me quitting and writing down this perfect day was exactly what I wanted for my life. I wrote them down like all the gurus said. I set my intentions under every moon in high faith that this would some way somehow become my life. You know the old cliche, if I knew then what I knew now, I would do xyz differently? Well. Looking back at these intentions and my current state of life, I’d say I’m exactly where I wanted to be. And as frustrated as I am with what my life appears to be right now, I can’t be upset at anyone outside of myself. 

Here’s why.

I wasn’t specific!

In any way, shape or form.

I left myself completely open to interpretation and influence of whatever else was going on in the world.

Ask and ye shall receive, right?

I had to mentally walk myself back through these intentions that I set FOR MYSELF. What the hell was I thinking? Why didn’t the author warn me?!?!?

I had no sense of what time I wanted to wake up or why I wanted to wake up at said time. At the crack of dawn? Catch the sunrise?  I didn’t know what kind of meditations I was interested in or even how to practice mindfulness in said meditation. Walking meditation? Shower meditation? With singing bowls and palo santo? Did I want to have enough time for a hearty homemade breakfast or did I wanna hit somebody’s drive thru line? What kind of accounts was I checking? Social media? Bank accounts? In terms of work, was it ONLY reading and writing? And did the reading and writing pay the bills? I mean, I knew I hated my job because it kept me away from my reading and writing………

BUT DAMN

Moving forward, I began detailing my goals, intentions, and prayers etc down to the number of times that I am going to have to pee each day. 

If you feel like you’re in a funk (like me), I challenge you to go find old notebooks, prayer journals and buried sticky notes and revisit some of the intentions that you have set for yourself. What manifested? What are you currently waiting on? Are you where you said you’d be? Maybe you’ll discover where you are is where you wanted to be after all. 

Although it took two years to fully manifest, this is truly the life I thought I wanted for myself. Truth be told, it’s not. I’ll preach to myself first before I preach to the masses but hear me loud and clear. 

WHEN WE ARE NOT SPECIFIC WITH OUR GOALS, ANYTHING GOES.

Fired From Instacart….How Sway?

Like Craig.

I got fired on my day off for “stealing” groceries.

But first.

If you aren’t aware, Instacart is a grocery deliver service app that guarantees same-day delivery. As a customer, you can simply download the app, register as a customer and literally begin online grocery shopping just like you’d do with any other online purchases. The stores that Instacart is partnered with are provided for you. You can chat with your personal shopper and request substitutes and refunds if your items are not available. Once your groceries are purchased, your shopper delivers the items to your doorstep. The process is similar to become a shopper. You simply download the app, register and wait for your lanyard and Instacart Visa card to arrive in the mail before you can begin shopping. Once the shopping is done, simply deliver to the customer.

At the peak of COVID-19, I lost both my full time and part-time jobs. I became an Instacart shopper to keep myself afloat while applying for full time jobs. Combine the fear and frustrations of COVID-19, being over/under qualified for jobs and not being willing to accept minimum wage positions, I had a nice little cocktail of not being able to find another job. *I tried applying for unemployment and it was a nightmare.

I’ve been a shopper since March 2020. I started in Killeen until recently here in Austin. I’ve seen many a highs and lows as a shopper. The best and worst of customers, grocery store employees and customer service agents.

I survived the hump when customers were tip-baiting (offering big $$$ only to reduce the tips to $0 after their items were delivered). I survived the huge data breach (which Instacart initially denied) that reduced deliveries significantly. More recently, I have been surviving “bots” or hackers snatching the higher paying deliveries from honest shoppers. The Instacart platform has been a wild, Wild West shit-show for a long time but nothing compares to the email that I received yesterday about my account being deactivated.

So then I said

And then they said

My response was

And this is all that they provided

But that wasn’t enough for me.

All communication ceased from that point.

To date, I’ve only received ONE phone call about an order not being delivered and of course I had Instacart to contact the customer to verify the delivery and they did.

Any other emails I’ve received about an order not being delivered were met with me contacting customer service as well. Each time I had to defend myself. And each time I asked the customer service team to verify the deliveries with the pictures that shoppers are required to provide during delivery. I was told that they didn’t have access to this information on numerous occasions. How ironic.

Below are a few screenshots of real time conversations with customer support agents, because well, Instacart doesn’t allow you to actually speak with someone unless you’re being accused of stealing their groceries.

In the age of social media, I decided to head to Instagram to see if there was a way to get more assistance. I DM’d the officially account and went to the comment section of their posts.

Lo and behold.

I’m not the only one that this has happened to.

Their posts are FLOODED with complaints from shoppers like myself about issues ranging from account deactivations (as a result of false non-deliveries), tip-baiting, rude customers, poor customer support agent experiences and shoppers not being paid and/or reimbursed properly.

Don’t believe me? Go see for yourself.

My biggest question after this ordeal is exactly HOW is Instacart holding their customers accountable for rudeness, tip-baiting and false accusations? To me, it seems as if the only people being held accountable for anything is their shoppers who are risking their livelihoods to provide a service for a company that doesn’t support them. I also wonder if this issue is persistent across all independently contracted delivery service apps.

All I know is that what happened to me is a true shame. Unfortuately I’m sure that this won’t be the last time that it happens to a shopper. If you’ve had this experience or any other horror experiences with independently contracted delivery service apps, please feel free to reach out. We deserve answers.

Damn Near Vegan…….

Yes.

My former chittlins and pig feet eatin ass is vegetarian. Damn near vegan but still struggling with cheese.

I’m on the cusp of my three month mark of missing bacon.

Growing up in Townsville, NC, I was raised on chicken, fish, rabbit, squirrel, opossum, pig feet and stankin ass (all pun intended) chittlins. All of it. You name it, we ate it. Super Southern. Smothered in gravy. Doused in Texas Pete Hot Sauce. Paired with cabbage cooked with ham and string beans. Saying no to food wasn’t an option. It was a high level of disrespect especially since I wasn’t contributing to the groceries NOR was I “big enough” to tell anybody what I wasn’t going to eat.

Despite the diet that was accustomed to as a kid well into adolescence, I’ve always maintained a very petite frame. The “biggest” I’ve ever been was a size 13 and the smallest I’ve ever been has been a 00 in high school.

I’m currently struggling to hang tight to my size 6 Levis without them trying to fall off the bone (get it? Fall off the bone? Nevermind).

My diet had been pretty much the same my entire life except for the three months that I went pescatarian. That was fun yet short lived. At the time it worked because I was kickboxing and it helped me get my abs faster. When I stopped kickboxing, I went right back to Cajun chicken trays and fried pork chops.

But then it all changed.

I moved to Texas.

Not just Texas.

HOT ASS TEXAS.

DRY HEAT ASS TEXAS.

Things were cool during the beginning of spring when I arrived and then it started getting hot. Not only did it get hot. It got hot right when COVID caused me to lose my full time job.

I decided to become an Instacart shopper, in said heat. If you’re not familiar with Instacart, it’s a grocery delivery service that allows someone to shop for your groceries for you and have them delivered to your door.

This coupled with my diet and Texas heat proved disastrous. I’d notice that I always felt sluggish no matter how much water I drank. No matter how many naps I took. NO matter how much sleep I’d gotten the night before. My body still wasn’t adjusting properly. And I ain’t like that. I just couldn’t maintain the energy levels that I needed to Instacart.

Naturally for me, when I feel like my body is off balance, the first thing that I evaluate is my diet. In my mind, everything physical stems from there. I considered going back pescatarian or limiting myself to chicken and fish. But then when so many of the employees at Tyson Foods started testing positive for COVID, I knew that meat NOR seafood was going to be an option.

The true icing on the cake was shopping for Instacart. I saw countless customers buying pounds of meat- raw, cooked, processed, soda, candy, junk food………just all kinds of shit. It started making me sick to my stomach because it was so much of it EVERY FUCKING DAY. Many repeat customers. I could count on one hand how many meatless deliveries I had or even deliveries that included fresh fruit and veggies at one point.

Talk about a weird way to fully and abruptly change up a diet right?

May 2, 2020 was the last time that I had meat. I went all out because I knew how serious I was…..THIS TIME. I ordered curried goat, steamed cabbage, red beans and rice from a nice Jamaican spot.

Since then, I can definitely smell meat from outer space. I accidentally had mashed cauliflower that had bacon in it (on accident) and some string beans that I had been prepared with ham. It ripped me an entire new asshole.

My body has never felt better. I have more energy. No more sluggish days despite the 100+ degree weather. No more catnaps. I sleep better at night. My concentration is A1 and my anxiety and depression are super manageable. Going out hasn’t limited my ability to go out to eat either as more vegan/vegetarian options are becoming available on menus.

It wouldn’t be me if I didn’t add fuel to the fire. Not only did I cut out the meats, but I started doing research with the support of a few Facebook friends pointing me in the right direction (thanks Demetria).

The more I learn, the more I’m appalled, disgusted, angry and sad. The information has been overwhelming at times and at other times it’s been very encouraging. At this point, I’m trying to convince as many people as possible (especially black folks) to GET OFF DA MEATS! I’ve never met so many black vegans and vegetarians before in my entire life! It keeps me energized to continue educating people of the benefits of embracing a plant-based diet, so much that I’m actually going into plant-based education and advocacy work!

For many, it should take COVID or a doctor’s death sentence for change (although there’s a  90% chance that it will). There’s so much shit happening with our foods that we aren’t even aware of. The transition into a plant-based lifestyle inspired me to analyze how our food affects our wellness- mentally and physically especially in low socioeconomic black communities. I have ideas for launching plant-based education initiatives and even maybe launching a non-profit. Who knows? One thing I know for sure is that many unhealthy eating habits and patters have been passed down from generation to generation and my goal is to stop them as much as I can. Toxic perspectives about clean eating have also been passed down from generation to generation, and I plan to help stop that too. Plant-based diets aren’t just a “white people thing.” Hell, it’s not even a healthy people thing. It’s a simply a more conscious decision. Oh and don’t get me started on how embracing a plant-based diet is a direct approach to fighting systemic racism! That’s a different convo for a different post!

If you’re interested on learning more about weaning yourself off of DA MEATS, feel free to reach out. If you’ve transitioned and did a bit of backsliding, START OVER AS MANY TIMES AS YOU NEED TO BUT NEVER GIVE UP. Then, tell me how you feel.

Children of Blood and Bone

Initially I didn’t want to read this book.

Not because it’s not one of thee most magical books I’ve ever read.

Not because it was 525 pages.

Not because of its name.

I didn’t want to read this book…..well…..because everyone else was reading it.

Super simple. Rather dumb. But I didn’t want everyone ruining the book for me.

This book was the last book that I purchased in store at Barnes and Noble before they close their doors because of COVID-19. I could not have been prepared for the life changing experience that took place between the covers of this book.

This year has been all about personal accountability and this book continued to provide it for me. I began seeing bits and pieces of myself in each of the main characters.

In Zelie, I saw my fears constantly haunting my thoughts and sorrow in my memories. Forgiveness that I owed to myself for not being stronger than I was. I saw my doubts in my ability to lead because of my past. I felt Zelie’s frustration as she struggled with knowing how powerful her gifts were. How draining it was physically when she used them to get her closer to restoring magic in Orisha.

Zelie’s doubt in her strengths reminded me of my own. I still struggle with it sometimes. The imposter syndrome. Other people see and believe in them, but most days for whatever reason, I tend to focus on my weaknesses. Even after bringing magic back (not quite the way she intended), she focused on all fo the things that went wrong. That she failed to accomplish such as protecting Baba. her focus remained on everything she didn’t do along the journey without giving herself credit for the bravery it took to begin the journey.

Tzain reminded me of how strong I always felt the need to be since I’m the oldest sibling. It’s an unspoken responsibility. We aren’t expected to show weakness. We should always lead by example. We have to figure everything out first. The eldest are the protectors. Sometimes that backfires. This happened when Zelie had her first experiences in love with Inan. Sometimes we are forced to sit on the sidelines to allow them to experience life. No matter how much we try to forewarn them. They are bound to make mistakes. I was right there as Tzain gave up the fight and watched Inan break Zelie’s heart. It was even painful to read. But when Zelie needed his reassurance and support, Tzain was right there.

We are all children of blood and bone.

All instruments of vengeance and virtue.

Children of Blood and Bone, Tomi Adeyemi

Through Inan I remembered how hard I fought to maintain my religious upbringing even when I no longer identified with it. Knowing that what you were taught no longer makes sense but still feeling the guilty need to honor it as a sign of loyalty and respect. Inan resented his magic based on the fear that he was taught. I was afraid of my spiritual path because of my upbringing. For the longest I rejected the supernatural things that kept happened to me. Growing up, I wasn’t allowed to question anything religious. I wanted to be able to question why I could ask questions but was never bold or brave enough to stand up to my folks.  Saran taught Inan and Amari to hate magic. I was raised to believe that people that didn’t go to church couldn’t prosper in life. Those views didnt change until I started meeting people that didn’t go to church that were living prosperous lives. I began meeting people that not only didn’t attend church, but people that had closer relationships with God than the people that I knew that went faithfully. It wasn’t until I had a mental breakdown that I decided to allow my spiritual journey to begin freely. Since giving up the fight, this is the healthiest that it’s ever been. I too, have plenty of friends (like Kaea) and family that don’t understand it. And I’m completely okay with that.

Although I wanted to read this book as pure fiction, I simply couldn’t. I lost track of time. I allowed my imagination to roam freely in Gombe during the festival. I dreamt about maji pulsing through my veins.

I am beyond grateful for the messages I’ve received while reading this book and ordered Children of Virtue and Vengeance before I was done with Children of Blood and Bone. I look forward to the journey continuing for Zelie, Tzain and Amari now the magic is back!

I apologize if you read and assumed that this would be a regular book review. This ain’t that. This isn’t one of those books. You literally have to experience it’s magic firsthand. It’s deeper than fiction.

Read the book? Wanna discuss it? Contact me!

This is 30

Happy New Year to me!

30 is supposedly that pivotal age where you’re supposed to have it all figured out. I always thought that I’d be approaching 30 as a young woman thriving in the career of her dreams. With the love of my life. In a loving home. With a few rugrats running around said home.

Man. Let me tell you about 30.

As 29 was coming to a close, I did a ton of soul searching and reflecting. I’d lived in NC my entire life. I had a few “almost” attempts to leave but never actually went through with the decision.

One day, I had a purely honest moment with myself.

Rock. This ain’t it! This isn’t the life intended for you boo.

Here I was. 29. No husband. No boyfriend. No kids (well Milo). I felt STUCK. Stuck in a job that was surely leading me to an early grave. Gifts and talents that weren’t being put to good use. And degrees that were collecting dust. It was time for a change.

30 had to be different.

Today is my birthday. I gifted myself with an entire new life in Texas. I am happy. I am grateful. This is by far the most peace that I’ve had in a long time.

Everything I thought I wanted. Everything I thought I knew.

All out the window.

Despite the thought of living with my sister and brother-in-law at 30. Despite not knowing how long I’ll be here. Despite COVID-19. Despite not knowing what the future holds for myself. Or those that I love. Or you reading this blog.

30 is a reminder that at any moment, you can change the narrative of you life.

30 is a reminder that no matter how much you think you’re in control, you’re not.

30 is a reminder that 30 looks, sounds and feels different for everyone.

30 is a reminder that I’m stronger than I think and wiser than I give myself credit for.

30 is a reminder that it’s never too late for what you deserve.

This is 30. And it’s pretty fuckin lit.

If You Think You’re Lonely Now

It’s happening again.

You texted him.

You looked at the text thread.

Bubbles.

He’s responding.

Or so you thought.

And now, here it is five hours later.

Still no response.

Your mind’s wandering. What happened? You go back to reread the last message sent. Was it something you said? Grammatical error? Too long? Corny? What was it? Why hasn’t he responded yet. Why does this keep happening?

Yeah that was me a few weeks ago. Just a tad bit delirious but nothing too major right? Bothered. Freaking out.

OVER

A

DAMN

TEXT

MESSAGE.

Who? What? When? Where? How did I get to this point?

I was “worried” about a person that clearly wasn’t worried about me.

The desperation was real and I knew that the only person that could help me pull my shit together……was me.

So what did I do?

I pulled up…….to Michaels.

I walked down the bead aisle and I picked out all of the colors that caught my eye. I checked out with about $50 worth of beads and cording. I went home. I sat at my desk and decided that I didn’t want to be waiting anymore. For anyone to think about me. For a text message. For anyone to see my value.

I made bracelets and posted them online for sale and walked away from my phone. What started out as a creative outlet to get me out of my feelings revamped an old business venture that I had veered away from. Another stream of income.

In 2018, after quitting my job I started making bracelets and waist beads for money. I had a few folks that purchased them. But business wasn’t consistent enough and I eventually put my crafting talents away.

The thing is, it wasn’t the right time to pursue those talents. That’s just how the universe works.

I needed to be lonely. Desperate even. At that present moment. At that present time. To have those feelings that led me back to crafting, so that I wouldn’t be “distracted.”

Ponder upon the distractions in your life. What else could you be doing if you were focused? Could you start the business that you’ve been dreaming about? Could you read the book that’s been on the coffee table? Could you devote more time to accomplishing your goals?

I encourage you to think about those creative pursuits that you’ve set aside. Neglected. Abandoned even. Creativity is a healthy outlet and lately I’ve been finding that the more frustrated that I get with things in my life, the more creative I get.

And since the end of 2019, business for me has been booming. These bracelets, waist beads and now bookmarks have been taking me to some pretty dope places and I foresee them taking me even further in 2020.

So, if you think you’re lonely now, wait until you discover what the universe is trying to show you.