I am One

Not to be cliche, but, as long as I can remember, I’ve struggled with loving myself and wanting to live. To me it’s not a morbid conversation. A big portion of my life I’ve self harmed and struggled with suicidal thoughts. I’ve functioned, and at times, barely functioned as I dealt with an amplitude of mental, physical and emotional attacks.

I’m not generally an unhappy person; at least not now that I have more control over my life. Before the last couple years, I thought depression was something I’d inherited for being, as my stepfather put it “an evil child”. That it was the reaped curse of karma, and that I was just an unhappy person who loved misery. But as I’ve grown, I’ve realized that’s not the case. Yes I have seconds, minutes, moments, days, weeks even where I can’t make life make sense, but overall, I love my life. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I’ve learned to see that the struggles and adversities give me opportunities to grow and be better.

My point is, people who self harm or who struggle with suicidal thoughts are often plagued with shame. I choose to ignore that pressure tonight and share that I’m one of those people. Ignoring the fear, the panic, and the almost debilitating need to ctrl + a + backspace…I’m speaking on it. Because I know too many people who hide these feelings. Who are afraid, like I am, and because of that fear and shame are even more burdened by the struggles they go through…that we go through.

Tonight I just want to encourage those of us triggered and fighting our own minds to keep fighting. That even though no one can see you tearing yourself apart, I know the battle, and I’m here to listen. That the shame won’t always be there if you try little by little to tell it a girl (or boy or gender tag) has no shame. That with time, we can make it, and the current pain will be in the past.


Can’t Sleep Series: 4

I havent been able to sleep lately. Stress, bodily pains, headaches, and a million thoughts have been my companions. I’ve had this same headache for 4 or 5 days… I should’ve kept better track but I’d gotten comfortable with not having them everyday. Also noticed I’ve been having trouble remembering numbers or remembering tasks I’m trying to do.

I don’t know if there are technical term, but I call this a flare up. The last month or so has added enough stress on me that I’ve jacked up my bodies balance. It probably hasn’t helped that I got off track with my vitamins.

I know, I know. The vitamins are “the easy part”, but for awhile they were making me feel worse when I was taking them. I personally don’t think I need them all the time. Maybe just when I’m really stressed or having a flare up. Just to help me regulate my body while it’s going through some foolishness.

Right now. I’m exhausted but my brain is wide awake. Running running running. I’m so tired, my eyes are burning and aching. I always do better with physical touch. Missing that on top of everything else isn’t helping much either but… In due time, for now, it’s back to water, smoothies, meal preps, and vitamins. Gotta cut back on being out late, being out at all, and my extra curricular activities.

Relationships: 1

I think a lot. Sometimes it’s superficial, sometimes it’s financial, but lately, lately, it’s been love and relationships. Not just the boyfriend kind, but all of them. I’ve been spending a lot of time in deep thought about the people who are in my life. Wondering if I’m holding on to any dead weight, if I need to let anything or anybody go. I’ve realized that I was holding on when there are multiple people in my life who are completely okay with passing me by or replacing me with someone else. I have realized that there are people I called my family who don’t know a single thing about my life, and I don’t know anything about theirs. WE aren’t family, maybe at some point we were, but I am a firm believer in having working relationships and not just worked to get and then got stagnant relationships. I don’t thrive in those kinds of anything. I need growth, I need to be present, need YOU to be present, and I need communication. Personally, anybody that can go weeks without speaking to me, is no longer someone I consider a vital part of my life.


This isn’t because I don’t love the person, but simply because I would rather spend my time, energy, and thoughts on people who make an actual effort to be in my life. Otherwise, I can love those other people as I have been; from afar. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, and that’s something else I’ve learned, we all have different highs and lows and transitions in our lives. Some people are balanced, some people are either all the way up or all the way down, and some people just don’t know how to be a good friend. There is a need for patience for all different types of friends, I just know I will no longer spend the time or energy to wonder why I’m so replaceable in certain people’s lives. I don’t care why, simply put, if it was worth worrying about it, I wouldn’t have the issue to worry about in the first place.


As far as dating, I expect the same thing. GROWTH. I don’t like being stagnant, I don’t like the same repetitive conversations. I want to look at him in a month and ask about something and learn about him. I want to look at him and be able to think “there’s so much to learn and get to know”. I don’t want to be with someone who’s boring, doesn’t communicate, and doesn’t show me who he is. I want to dive into the person I’m with. Your soul is something I want to be incredibly in tune with, and I want someone who’s looking for the same thing. He don’t want no girl who never wants to do anything, who’s okay with always being home sitting on her butt, who isn’t capable of taking care of herself, or who desperately NEEDS a man. I want someone who loves my lazy and adventurous side, and who’s hip that I am complex, complicated, beautiful, sought after, dedicated, loyal, crazy, annoying, clingy, and etc WITHOUT wanting to change me.


I’m not looking to be with someone who wants me to fit into a box. I am unable to be boxed. As I’ve told every ex, I am not something you can tame. I’m looking for someone to run wild WITH me, not ride my back until they’re tired of my crazy and then try to lock me in the cage until they’re ready for their next ride. He needs to run with me and learn to trust me when I run on my own. Speaking of trust…need that. I won’t ever again date someone I can’t trust. Done did that. I couldn’t trust him when we started, couldn’t trust him all 6 or 7 times it ended. It. Is. Vital.


I want a lot of things from my relationships. I have high expectations. But every person I’ve ever loved, whether friend or lover, has had the potential to meet those expectations. Some rise to that and some don’t. When I really boil it down though, I find that all of my expectations fit into a few topics; loving, trusting, good integrity, good character, seeking. Any and everything else I want can be put into those categories. And it’s not like I’m asking for perfection. I understand flaws, I am flawed, I will be flawed. What matters to me is effort. Telling me what you need, me telling you what I need, and US making sure those needs are met. To me…it’s very simple.

Losing Myself

Recently I’ve struggled with who I am, who I want to be, and who I was. Today I realized who I was has been running the ship since the start of the year. For two weeks I’ve been someone different, and I’ve just noticed. Minus the love I have for a few people, I’ve lost the strong feedback of my emotions.

I’m not sure where they went, but I’ve realized I’ve been numb. That things that I should’ve used my heart for, I used logic and unemotional precision to make a decision. Using those things has led to heartless choices. Not mistakes, but things I’d have handled and done differently. I havent even felt anger. Which, to those who know me, is an anomaly of epic proportions.

I was in a small car accident yesterday. Normally I would’ve been panicked. Nervous. I felt void. Like nothing was there. I thought maybe I was just handling it well. Then the woman became disrespectful. Screaming at me. Cursing me out. Getting closer to me. And all I could think was, “are you sure about this?”. No anger. No anxiety. No nothing.

I still feel nothing about it. The closest thing I’ve felt was when I thought my brother was going to need an emergency surgery. Even then, it was like I had to tell myself the proper reaction to horrible hospital service, thank you St. Agnes, was to become irritated and disgruntled. I said I was angry. I said I wanted to spazz, but in all actuality, I didn’t feel it. Mentally I thought it, but there was nothing there. When blood was gushing out of his leg all I thought was don’t let it be the femoral. For a second I felt fear. It moved through me like silt loosened from the top of the riverbed.

I haven’t been able to sleep, when I can sleep I’m not resting. Not resting is… Detrimental to my health right now but even still, it doesn’t seem feasible for me to sleep like a normal person. I have a theory. Either my current mental state, which I’m just acknowledging has been triggered by something I’m not aware of yet, or in riding someone else’s wave. So maybe I have two theories. Now that I’ve taken the time to think about it. To really sit and say, when was the last time you cried or got emotional, and have no answer, it makes me think. Where did I go?
Am I in the midst of extremes?
Am I working towards emotional balance?
Am I feeling things and mentally ignoring them?

I have no answers, all I have are questions, and what seems like, more stress and things to worry about. If I’m riding someone’s wave, which isn’t unlikely since the,  maybe 2, people I keep myself open to tie wise are having a difficult time. It also isn’t out of this world to think something over the last few weeks has triggered me to revert and wall up. Either way. I’ll figure it out and fix it. I like being happy. I like feeling most of the time. I don’t want to lose that.

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.

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.

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