30 for 30

I feel like every time I have a new set of 10, I have to find some sort of huge idea, or something super emotional, but today I don’t think that’s where I’m going. Today I think I’m just gonna talk about something I’m pretty sure most of us have gone through and or are going through. I wrote this in my notebook 4weeks ago, but it seems like it has a long time to be relevant. Dating. Or. Maybe not dating, but still dating. 

Trying to date or get to know someone has to be one of the most irritating of processes when done the world’s way. The way it’s set up now, you can go from talking everyday to not talking at all in the matter of a day. No explanation, no conversation as to why, and feeling completely confused as to how to proceed. I’m socially challenged, and I’ve said this multiple times before. I’m pretty sure everybody who knows me knows this already. Anyway, it takes me, took me, maybe still taking me, awhile to see and understand what was happening when someone dropped off the face of the earth. Ignored text, no calls, little too then no text at all, then the biggest thing of all, spending no time together. I thought it meant the person was busy. Now I know better. Now I know it means he’s just not that into you.

There’s also this new thing called a situationship. I have found it to be uncontrollably rampant in my generation, and the generation following mine. It’s crazy me. Date, but don’t have a title, don’t have exclusion, don’t catch feelings, but do have sex with that person, do spend time with that person, do text and call that person, and do get used to being together with that person without being together with that person. I won’t lie, in my younger days that seemed attractive in a way. Get what you want without the foreboding disappointments that come with official relationships. Once I matured, I realized the title doesn’t dictate anything to me. It doesn’t protect my feelings either, so why do all that just to have to adjust to being truly single again? 

That’s pointless, and it’s irritating as all get out. So at 25, well almost, I have no desire to do that foolishness. And after an entire train wreck of poor choices with college and post college boyfriends, I’d like to just chill. I would like to know if I should or should not invest my feelings. I won’t be mad about the time and experiences, those are memories, but it’s my frailty, my huge heart, and my vulnerable heartstrings that I worry about. It’s not being sure, and not trusting myself after a string of utter debacles that make me shudder. I tell myself at least twice a day to not get attached to anyone new. It’s dangerous. Especially when the light is still at the proverbial blinking yellow light. 

I did mention being socially challenged right? That mantra’s the only thing that helps me withold tangling of my heartstrings. Now it takes me time to get attached, and it seems easier for me to just say screw it. That’s not who I want to be, but it seems like the best medicine for these back and forth, no communication, what are we, if we’re anything at all relationships. 

Don’t get me wrong. I am all for building through friendship. I actually think it’s amazing now that I’ve experienced it. There’s no pressure to fake, or put on your best self because you’re friends and your friends see you at your ugliest! There’s no pressure to date or rush into a relationship that you may not have any need or use for. It’s like going with the flow instead of creating some man-made stream that has no natural support. Only thing is, it still involves communication on what each person wants, and where each person sees it going. Without that, it just turns into another situationship. It turns into another moment of confusion. 


Still Learning

Just had a breakdown. I’m okay, but I’m not okay. Still encouraged, just a little sad. Am blessed that I have a boss who seems to be in sync with me. Like I said earlier, I’ve been ill all day. Not really sure what’s up because I’m experiencing other things I don’t usually experience, but I just don’t feel good. My boss let’s me go home early, without me having said anything about not feeling well; almost like she knew. I get home, and try and go up the stairs but fail multiple times. The same stairs I run up and down daily, and I couldn’t manage to walk up them to get to my room. In what seems to be my regular response now, I broke down in tears.

I felt ashamed, weak, and literally stupid. I knew my family was upstairs and I could’ve asked for help, but I was already crying, and didn’t want them to freak out, get emotional, or worry more than they already do. Of course, that made me cry even more because I felt alone. My dog, the amazing dog that he is, is freaking out to get out of my brothers room, to what I can only guess, is to make sure I’m okay.

As soon as I open the door he comes directly into my room, onto my bed, and starts forcing me to pet him, and give him kisses until I stop crying. I find him to be the best natural physical relief that I have lately. I don’t have to worry about being a burden, being too emotional, or taking up his time. I can feel what I feel and then feel better. What’s funny is, I’ve been watching more and more videos about how dogs are great for therapy. Not that my dog is at all trained, I just love that he can sense when I need some love.

I’m not really sure if I’m handling all this correctly. I feel like I’ve been crying at least 3 or 4 times a week. It feels obnoxious to me. Like I just need the attention, and I have to remind myself that those tears are all shed in my shower or when I’m alone. Even still. Sometimes I feel gross and ashamed for crying when I become frustrated with myself. Not sure if I need to stop, or need to just accept this as a stage of my life and embrace the feels.

Anyway, the crisis has been avoided, well mended, and I’m praying, for the rest of my night, everything is peaceful.


Randomness at Work

Haven’t been feeling well all day, so much so, that without realizing it, I’d fallen into a sullen mood. My energy couldn’t seem to rebound, and I was dreading going to work and sounding dry. My second call of the day changed that. Although I’m still not feeling well, and I’m still exhausted, I feel a lot more positive and encouraged than I did 20 mins ago. This customer called with a medium order, paid, and was about to hang up when she started talking about her family out of the blue.

Next thing I know she says, “mija, prophesy your future. You walk with your head held high, your hip jutted out, and tell yourself ‘I can because I’m a woman'”. She spoke of her past and how she’s always spoken what she wants into her life and her children’s lives and it gave me the push I needed. Cub had told me when I was first diagnosed that there would be no dramatic sense of encouragement or push, but small happenings that would give me what I needed to choose a better attitude or keep progressing forward. Moments like those I treasure, and am ever thankful to continue experiencing.


I’d mentioned before in other posts that I’d realized intimacy is a big deal for me. I’m learning the different faces of intimacy and what they mean to me. It’s not like I’d never had these experiences, some of them I have, it’s just the mind I have now towards them is different. I don’t want to say I took those experiences for granted, but a apart of me feels like I did. Regardless. There’s now.

One form I find I love is intimacy through unsexual touch. It’s just touching someone to touch them. Just to feel their energy directly from them, to feel their warmth, to see how their body releases tension when they feel your skin connect, or the quick smile that passes through them. That’s food to me. Even in terms of my own tension, when I’m touched, the closer the person is to me, the more I have invested, and depending on their place in my heart and life, I will release a certain amount of tension, might even release some emotional garbage I needed to let go of.

It’s one of the main reasons why I’m so in love with the concept of cuddling and sleeping in bed with someone who will touch you and breathe your air (although normally that grosses me out- I will literally hold my breathe once I think someone is breathing my air or I’m breathing in their recycled air. I have no idea why it bothers me but anyway). It’s that energy transfer, that constant heat, your ability to stay physically connected to someone for hours without sexual tension, but most of all, your ability to feel rejuvenated when you wake up, even if you’ve only had a few hours of sleep that makes it so important to me. Not to get weird, because to me it’s not weird, but I have a friend. We don’t touch that often. When I looked back to see, I realized outside of certain situations, touching isn’t a habit like it usually is with me (this will be changing only because I’ve noticed I’m missing that part of intimacy, and don’t want to share it with someone else right now). But we still touch. It’s like our energy, or spirit, however you would like to name it, recognizes the other and that’s where the release comes from. Personally I think that’s dope, and it leads me to spiritual intimacy.

I don’t necessarily mean this in the biblical sense of the spiritual, but in the literal sense of my inner being. This, as far as I could see when self reflecting, is the second time that I’ve been able to connect like that with a member of the opposite sex. It’s interesting but I’m still observing, so I don’t want to speak too much on it yet. With the first person it happened with, I would literally think to call him, forget, then my phone would ring and it’ll be him calling or texting. Or I’d be sitting in class ready to quit or break down, and he’d send me a joke, annoy me to be funny, or send me random encouragement. And vice versus. The two times he’d received horrible news, I felt it. It was this cinder block of pain in the middle of my chest. It hit me out of no where, and “something” told me to see if he was okay. It wasn’t sexual, it wasn’t physical (although that helped), but it was that spiritual intimacy. Knowing someone’s deep down. Being in-sync. As far as the women I have that connection with, we’re so in-sync that we can think heavily on each other and text or call. It’s one of the most intense things I experience in my everyday life.

I could go into other forms but I think two is enough for now. I feel like this got a little long with the first two. But, I’m on the road to continuing self discovery so I kind of use this as a sounding board. See if other people have experienced these things with people. I often wonder if people are so angry because of the lack of intimacy. I know I was. I was searching for it, not even knowing or understanding what exactly I was looking for. Which is how I began to love someone who showed me, and set me in the direction to seeing what it really meant. Now, I find myself delightfully in the the midst of gathering more wisdom and knowledge on it. The more I read, feel, think about it, the closer I feel to myself. The closer I feel to the people I already have relationships with.

It gives me more understanding with no changes to the relationship. The growth of personal knowledge in itself helps me to deepen those relationships. Helps me guide my emotions and my attitude. So much has shifted for me since I started paying attention to what my real needs are. Keying intimacy as a huge one was the best first step I could’ve made to emotional wholeness.

Thank You

I just wanted to make a quick post to update on my mindset, and how I’ve been feeling the last few days. Health wise, I’ve been having a rough go of it. My vision has been blurring and flashing more than usual, headaches are back to being daily, body pains, problems with my speech, and major fatigue. It has been a little rough. Even when dealing with those things, I really am only bothered when it comes to my speech, dementia, and fatigue.

I’ve always been an active person, especially at night. I am a night owl by trade; so much so my dad used to frequently call me Vampire. I couldn’t help it; 1am-6am are the hours of my muse. I’m also big on going out. EVERYONE who knows me knows I love going out and hanging out with the people I care about. The dementia is a beast in and of itself. I’d been noticing my memory and temperament slipping for the last few weeks, but chucked it up to me just being tired and missing things. Having a diagnosis, albeit it’s negative stigma, I am positive that in a few weeks of serious health tending, I will be better than I was. Anyway…

I’m not sad anymore. I’d like to say I’m not overwhelmed either, but some moments I am (personally that’s a lot better than feeling like I’m drowning every second). I can say that I’m hopeful. For a while I’d lost hope and felt defeated by everything I have going on. I’ve determined that even though this all sucks majorly, I’m going to be as positive as I can be, and use my support system. I know a couple of my post where negative, but if I only post the positive, I feel dishonest because I have those days (sometimes those weeks).

Regardless, I have been touched by those who have taken the time to read my blog, to those who have received texted and called, and everyone who has said an encouraging word of support. It probably seems empty to them, or like it isn’t enough, but its hope and love to me.

So thank you.


I’m afraid. Today’s doctor appointment has me shook. Not a little, but a lot. When my doctor diagnosed me with early onset MS, I took it in stride. I wasn’t happy about it, but I was relieved to have answers to why my body was in so much pain. I didn’t cry, still haven’t because by the point of diagnosis, I’d been living with the pain for two years. Having a name to it eased the fear of not knowing what’s wrong. I made the necessary changes, and had a positive mindset along the journey. But today, today was hard, is hard.

What got me was that all my progress from my last visit is gone. Can you imagine? I went from almost not needing to take all these pills to having to take more. It was devastating to me, so much so that before I could catch it, a tear rolled down my cheek. I thought I was going to lose it. I wanted to scream, but then I got angry. Not a lot, but enough to curb the feeling of despair. To add to that, after a few questions and tests, my doctor informed me that my there are problems with my brain.

I should’ve recognized it, but I thought my temperament had shifted due to the lack of sleep. I thought it was just my nervous system. Apparently it’s both. My nervous system is spazzing out and I’ve developed dementia, and have a surplus of a chemical in my brain that is proving to be toxic. Those who know me know I already don’t have an over abundance of patience or tolerance. Lately it’s been non-existent. Everything, everything, has been frustrating me.

Things have to change. I can’t tell what’s me and what’s the disease. I can’t tell if my frustration is valid or chemically induced, and that makes me even more frustrated. Right now I just want to not be. I want to not deal with this. I want a regular life, with a happy childhood, where a mess of bad crap isn’t shat on me at every opportunity. I’m pissed man. This isn’t my karma. I didn’t earn this and I know I don’t deserve it. I don’t feel sorry for myself but I am angry. But at the end of the day, my anger, sadness, is irrelevant and I am determined to not let this kill any joy I have left.


While I still have the courage, and my insides feel like they’re going to be eviscerated, I’d like to share my thoughts on this transition I’m going through. In my mind, after things I’ve seen or been through, I think, process, feel things a lot differently. I can acknowledge that I need help, that some areas of my thought process need calibration, for now I am who I am.

I’ve always had a voice, a feeling, that made me feel, gave me this sense of assurance, that I would never live past 25. That no matter what path I went down in life, I’d die before having a family, before getting married, before birthing a child. This feeling used to scare me, haunt me even. I can’t say exactly when I just accepted it as my reality, but by the time I graduated high school, the feeling felt apart of me. I was okay with it. There was even a short time in my life when I rebuked it. Took any and all power it had over the way I was living.

I don’t think I’ve ever really talked about it, but again, my sister Cherelle has seen some of harder moments in my life. Before her, before Cub, I was destructive. There’s no better way to explain it. I put myself in positions to be hurt. I hurt myself, sad and weak cries for help. For most of my middle school career I was a cutter. Not deep, I’d learned that left scars. For a long time I was lost. I’ve edited this multiple times, deleting and replacing that confession. It feels shameful to know I was that lost. But I figure, I’m not the only one.

I would binge eat. Engorge myself on food, and make myself throw up. It amazes me how everyone would laugh at how much I ate, and were equally fascinated by how I gained absolutely no weight. I had a lot going on then. Not even just my physical life but mentally. I can’t remember a more dark time in my life than then. And it didn’t help that no one noticed. Then I went through a pill phase. Nothing crazy but it became an issue, it’s one of the main reasons why even now in my adult life, I refuse pain medication unless my pain is unbearable. I know when people look at me, they’d never think I’d be the “type” of person to do these things. I’m too “strong” to do it, but I didn’t become strong until I defeated those demons.

I say that to say, that I’m faced with a choice. In this transition, I can feel that there is more than my health at stake. I can feel this darkness trying to seep into every component of my life. There’s this nagging that if I don’t choose to fight, I will lose everything I’ve fought for and gained. My old self has been knocking, cracking open the door, and venturing into my happiness. I see her lurking, feel her gradually moving me onto a path less painful, yet more dire.

I didn’t realize that this choice was a choice. Not until I spent some time thinking about where I am now, and where could I be, if anywhere, next year. I wondered if 25 really would be my last year of life, and I wondered if I care either way. I can honestly say in this moment, in the moments I’ve spent questioning myself, my decisions, and my life, that I don’t. As self aware as I try to be, I cannot for the life of me figure out if this is me not caring because life is what it is and you can’t control how it ends, or if I would rather it just be over.

It matters which one it is. We all know that. One is basic acceptance, the other is dangerous. I don’t want to die, but if I had to be honest, I wouldn’t be at all heartbroken if I did. At least, not until I start to ponder on my future, all the people I could help, all the moments I’ll never have, the kids I’ll never tuck in at night, and the husband I won’t greet after a long day of work. It’s when I think about those tiny sparks I dream about that I say “maybe there’s a reason to stay”, but then if I myself am not reason enough, isn’t that a problem within itself?

All I know is, I need to choose. I need to make a conscious effort to save my own life. Because to me, that’s what living is really about. It’s no different than love. You have to make an effort to decide who you will be every day and every night. You have to choose every decision to make, every thought you repeat, and the negation of choosing those choices, is still choosing something.

I’ve been living in negation. Living by default. It’s this lack of discipline that has allowed my old self to tip toe her way behind me, and slowly attach herself as my shadow. I am at an impasse. Do I become the shadow, or do I put the shadow in its place.


How do you ask someone a question that everyone else wants the answer to, when you’re pretty sure you already know the answer?

How do you ask when you know the answer is probably no and will probably always be no.

Why do people seep into your mind and plant the seed for fantasies?

I know very well, what the truth is, but I’m half believing the lies.

When did people become experts on who I should be with when I’m fine being friends.

Why did I let it get to me….

Can’t Sleep Series: 3

Woke up in the middle of the night, or what I think was waking up from a solid 10 mins of closed eyelids, to a text from my sister. I tend to keep my phone on do not disturb or silent after a certain time in order to get a full nights rest, but I forgot to tonight, and I’m glad I did.

She sent this video and it irritated me. Not because it’s bad, but because I felt like I was looking at myself and it made me uncomfortable. I’m struggling through depression and one of the hardest things at times is admitting to not being okay, to say yes I’m stressed, to speak on the things that cause me pain on a daily basis. I’m still irritated now writing this because I don’t know how to make this uncomfortable feeling go away.

I’ve yet to post anything on here with a video, so I figure this is a good one to start with. I’d like to say I probably should’ve waited until morning but in the cage my life has turned into lately, there is no right time for me to look myself in the mirror and deal, so I write this in an attempt to ease this foot sized gap that weighs the size of a small child currently gripping what I suppose is my heart.

If you’re going through something, and like many feel alone, feel like you can’t talk about it, are afraid to talk about it. Just take a few minutes to watch and reach out.

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