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.

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.

Untitled 4/27/20

What if I told you that today, I spent the bulk of the afternoon crying in my car in a park? Like boo hoo. Snot running. Struggling to breathe bawling. A lot of folks I know probably wouldn’t believe it and even more would likely be upset that didn’t reach out to talk to them. The thing is…..I needed to cry today. I needed to fall apart. I needed to RELEASE.

Everything kinda hit at once (with the assistance of my period of course) and I lost my shit.

I started my day off like normal. Instacarting. Batches were trickling in but few and far between. For lunch I had street tacos from a food truck and I sat in the parking lot eating and people watching. A norm for me.

Then I started getting into my own head again. I started thinking about being 30. Living with my sister and brother in law. Not having yet gotten my own apartment since being in Texas. Not getting the full time job that I was really gunning for. Not being able to get Milo from NC right now. COVID19 fucking up all of my plans. The list continues.

Just all of the things that I’m not able to do. I started feeling helpless. The sure fire sign that I am on the brink of going into a state of depression.

I had a complete meltdown.

I let all of my frustrations and fears fall from my eyes. I screamed. I cursed. I prayed. I begged.

And you know what I noticed after I did all of that?

Nothing in the park stopped because I had a meltdown.

Folks were still getting their miles in. Smiling. Laughing. Kids still played on the playground (a separate COVID convo to be had).

NOBODY NOTICED. There was no one to ask what was wrong. NOBODY GAVE A DAMN.

So I started laughing.

Here I am. Having an entire pity party.

Alone.

Expecting the world to stop.

The world won’t stop because I’m sad. Because things aren’t going according to plan. Hell, it still hasn’t stopped for COVID.

I had a day. A moment. Cool. But how many more days can I afford to fall apart like this? None.

I got out the car. Went to a table and started reading.

If you look hard enough, you’ll find clues on what to do next.

Two clues came to me today.

The first was a quote from the book I’m reading Think Unbroken by Michael Anthony.

If you win the day, then you win the week.

If you win the week, then you win the month.

If you win the month, then you win the year.

Think Unbroken, Michael Anthony

I decided to change the working to be more proactive for me. I jotted it down on a sticky note to put over my bed.

The second thing that came was a shift in my mindset from a very interesting place.

I saw a man at the park. He was flying a kite. From a fishing rod.

It was actually flying and he looked like the happiest man in the world.

Who said he had to ONLY fly a kite from the string it came with?

Who said that you had to ONLY fish with a fishing rod?

NO DAMN BODY.

I was reminded to think outside the box. I can make up my own rules if the “rules” that I’m attempting to follow aren’t working for me.

I was reminded to think bigger. Perhaps what I need right now isn’t coming to me because what I think I need is too small.

I quickly pulled my shit together and left the park.

Empowered.

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.

 

Trending Topic: Self-Care

“You know I’m working on my self-care”

“I took today off for a self-care day”

“I haven’t had a self-care day in a minute”

Self-care is the new trending buzzword and for once we have something that is actually beneficial. As with anything that becomes “popular” via social media, many folks are oblivious to what it entails or how to ease yourself (or dive head first) into it.

So here are a few basics.

Self-care isn’t practiced for other people. It’s for you.

Don’t let the internet trick you into thinking that you have to book solo vacations to outer space or meditation for twelve hours to practice a form of self-care. I’m a bookworm. My best self-care days are spent reading self-help books for an hour, writing while having a glass of wine or writing love notes and affirmations to myself. Sometimes my self-care allows me to focus on my physical care. At least once a month I try to do a deep cleansing face mask, getting a full body massage, having a photoshoot or getting a Brazilian wax. While these things aren’t mandatory, they are conscious choices to help me feel better about myself. FOR MYSELF.

Self-care isn’t selfish. It’s necessary. We’ve been tricked to believe that we can pour from an empty cups. We can’t.

I’ll admit that my self-care hasn’t always been a priority. Unfortunately, I’m one of those people that was taught to always put the needs of others before your own. Otherwise, you’re being selfish. And who wants to be around selfish people right?

As a teacher, my cup gets emptied everyday. As a matter of fact, my middle schoolers leave me with holes at the bottom of my cup on a daily. Switching from high schoolers to middle schoolers wasn’t quite the best decision that I made last year. The transition has forced me to place my self-care under a microscopic lens.

Each day I come home and burn candles. They help me to release the cares and frustrations of the day. I try to give myself thirty minutes to do nothing but sit in silence to collect myself. Some days I’m successful. Other days my mind won’t stop wandering. The main goal is to be as consistent as possible.

Last year, I decided to dedicate one full day each week to my self-care. No excuses. My day is Sunday. Every Sunday I have to say “no” to anything that I don’t genuinely want to do. If I don’t want to be around people, that’s cool. If I want to be around a large crowd, that’s cool as well just as long as it’s something that “I” want to do. Most Sundays I try to focus on my solitude. I try not to hang out unless it’s an activity that REQUIRES other people to be around such as workshops or group yoga.  I try not to check my phone or social media. Sometimes I simply stay in bed watching movies. Sometimes I sit at my desk and craft in silence for hours. Regardless of what it is, it’s what I want to do and I’m at peace while doing it. Which leads to my next point.

Self-care can be as simple as you’d like it to be.

I begin each day with gratitude. As soon as I wake up, I say “thank you” out loud. I pray that today be yesterday and set intentions for the remainder of the day. My self-care is loaded with gratitude and reflection.

The beginning of a new year is an exceptional time to re-evaluate how you view your self-care. It’s also the perfect time to start and continue practicing healthy self-care habits. Self-care should be a PRIORITY and never an OPTION.

What will you do for YOURSELF in 2020? Daily? Weekly? Monthly? Share in the comments below.

In NC? Need suggestions for businesses that promote self-care? See my list below.

Massage Therapists: https://www.facebook.com/erinthelmbt/ and https://kawellnesscenter.com

Estheticians: https://www.vagaro.com/oasison5th and https://www.facebook.com/pg/ToyMakesFaces/services/?ref=page_internal

Soy Based Candles: https://lytsoycandleco.onuniverse.com/ and https://www.etsy.com/shop/IlluminationbyIV?ref=search_shop_redirect

Dance Fitness: https://www.candaceliger.com/jahration-nation and https://www.facebook.com/groups/KILLAHMOVES/?ref=share

Yoga: https://www.soulflowerwellnessnc.com/

Personal Training: www.cwbfitness.com

In Case You Were Wondering

As many of you may know (or don’t know), I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety and depression in November 2015. Since then it’s been a colorful rollercoaster to reduce the number of panic attacks, suicide attempts/thoughts and breakdowns. I’m grateful to everyone who’s tagged along, supported me or literally saved my life.

Moving forward Pretty Dope Right?®️ will be a blog dedicated to sharing my journey according to my anxiety and depression. How it’s defined me, allowed me to define myself and forced me to find a functioning medium.

Thank you for reading

-Racquell

A Not So Hot Girl Summer

It is approaching the end of the summer. For those of you that don’t know, I am a high school teacher. I too, was under the false impression that summers were reserved for trips around the country, binging on Netflix series and waking up at 5pm from hangovers. This summer has been the furthest thing from that.

 

This week is the first week back for teachers. And although I’m excited, I’m also saddened. This summer whooped my ass!

 

Yes! Whooped my ass!

 

What had happened was…….

 

I started teaching later in the year. Most teachers begin the year at the end of August. I didn’t get offered a position until mid August. That being said, I didn’t start teaching early enough to disperse my payments throughout the twelve month pay schedule and had to settle for the ten month pay schedule. 

 

Now fast forward to the end of June. Thanks to a few scatterbrained folks who shall remain nameless (y’all know how I am), I was under the influence that I’d be paid my final check at the end of June.

 

So when June rolls around, I wake up with full intentions of paying all of the bills.

 

But when I looked at the bank account, my stomach dropped into my ass. A solid $200.

 

 

I struggled holding conversations for the rest of the day. 

 

Avoided eye contact with everyone.

 

Had a panic attack followed by a full blown meltdown. 

 

All before I could pull my shit together enough to figure out why. 

 

Well turns out May was the final paycheck and there was some “miscommunication.”

 

My face: 

My mind: I’ll knock all this shit over

 

The rest of the summer went downhill from there. 

 

My car broke down.

 

Had some outrageous family issues.

 

Fell short on rent and car note (and had to fully rely on my support system).

 

I had a book launch coming up and hadn’t purchased a single book to sell.

 

The one relationship that seemed hopeful crashed and burned. 

 

My body started shutting down and I had a medical situation that required me to have a catheter in for a little over a month. 

 

The uncomfort of it prevented me from adequately training for my part time job. 

 

I quickly spiraled into a heavy depression all while walking out of the house with a smile on my face. Not because I wanted to, but because I HAD to.

 

I couldn’t let anyone see. Cause who wants to see sad people? So on my way home from driving Uber til 2 and 3 o’clock in the morning…..I would just cry. Not just any old cry. That “what is life” cry. That “I think this is the end” cry. No matter how many songs I added to my “You Got This” playlist, nothing seemed to help. The advice of friends was always supportive and positive but when you are in such a feeling of powerlessness and helplessness, even that encouragement goes in one ear and out the other. 

 

I tried to drink it away.

 

I tried to write it away.

 

 

Instead of fighting the depression, I decided that this time I just needed to go ahead and allow myself to go under. I always come back up right? I had nothing else to lose or prove. It was probably one of the best decisions that I could make for myself at the time, especially with everything that I had going on. 

 

The day I went to have the catheter removed, the nurse asked me about any depression. And I lied. Like most people do. Like most women do. Like a majority of black women do. 

 

It reminded me of a time that another nurse said well it looks like you’re happy so I’m sure you’re not depressed. Telling people that they can’t be depressed because they look happy happy is such an ugly stigma. 

 

 

So when I say that this breakthrough is personal it is overcoming my obstacles is super selfish I take so much pride in knowing that I’m tougher than I think and way more temper then I gave myself credit for and now that I know I have all the tools and resources to be stronger I feel that I have a better grip on how I can control my depression. 

 

I have a much deeper understanding of who I am and how I got to this point there’s also a list of things and thoughts that I need to decondition myself from. 

 

I know who my friends are and who my friends aren’t. 

 

Always being the lender and never the borrower makes it hard as fuck to ask for help when needed. 

 

Your support system can legit make or break you. 

 

Hustling is mad uncomfortable. I legit didn’t think that my body could function on less than 6 hours of sleep. But here I am….functioning and shit. 

 

The feeling of powerlessness and helplessness is only in my mind. 

 

I needed to break down. I needed to fall apart. I needed to sit down. I needed to be lost. I needed to find myself again. 

 

So while I didn’t get the summer that I wanted, I got the summer that I needed.

 

A not so hot girl summer.

 

P.S. If you’re in this boat. Reach out. You’re not alone. I promise. People just aren’t transparent because it’s painful to admit. You’re loved. You’re valuable. And most importantly, You’re more powerful than you think!

 

National Suicide Prevention Hotline

 

1-800-273-TALK

1-800-273-8255