What’s meant for you will always find you…

✨The universe always knows exactly what she is doing.

❌I’ve wanted to quit more in the past week, than ever before. Quit therapy, quit writing, just quit…

And then today, I got this message.

You know life is so unpredictable and there are times I think I’m doing so great and then out of thin air this dark cloud presents itself and it’s always hell to get it to disappear.

I’ve been wearing my best of smiles lately only to avoid being asked if everything is okay. Something about that damn question that gets me every time. So I just pretend and hope reality catches up

And I usually write to dump out all the feelings because I kinda suck at verbally expressing them but lately I couldn’t even bring myself to do that…

And then I got this message… and I just cried quietly to myself.

When something is meant for you, it will always find you.

It will find you in your brightest moments and your darkest corners.

It’ll celebrate your highest highs, and pick you up during your lowest lows…
✨✨
Thanks B, though you reached out to let me know how I’ve helped you-you didn’t even realize how much you were helping me. I love you 🤍
✨✨

Just keep swimming friends
Never stop writing ✍🏾

As Mental Health Awareness Month is coming to an end…

I pride myself on being an amazing mother, partner, family member, friend, human being etc.-and here’s why…

There was a point in my life where I was more angry than sad. I was sad because I was so depressed and i was angry because I truly felt like no one gave a shit. So much so that I tried to take my own life (this was years ago) and I wrote a suicide note, and turns out I kept it.
I’ll be honest I didn’t even know I kept it until I stumbled upon it yesterday digging through old journals.

And so I sat down and read it- I bawled. Y’all, I was so angry back then.
It broke my heart to read a letter I left behind for people who knew me and yet it was filled with so much anger and then there was part for Kannen and I told him that despite what anyone tried to tell him, his momma loved him.

Reading a note that was telling my son goodbye- whew, that hit different and it just…
It just really broke my heart.

My point being that as #mentalhealthawarenessmonth comes to an end, I want my family, my friends, other human beings, etc. – I just want you to know I care, I’ll always care- even when I say I don’t…I do.

I will be your vault, your shoulder to cry on, your person, your safe space-I will be what you need in the moment you need it the most.

It’s important that we remind those that we love just how much we love them.
You never know what people are going through.

I love you guys with everything I have and then some.

✨🖤✨

on the days i feel i failed them (moms you aren’t alone)

on days such as today i am certain that my

uncertainty is where it all went wrong

what are the ways in which i can make failure sound graceful

make it something to be proud of

how many stanzas does it require to add rhythm to this offbeat day

my pen stands still

because no matter how i dot my i’s or cross my t’s

these tears still flow from my eyes

my daughter rubs my arm

i can tell she’s confused

tears followed by bursts of anger would confuse anyone

but that’s how fast i knew i needed to slow down

that’s how quick it was to fail my kids today

to have a way with words and still unsure of how to use them

she continues to rub my arm

she comforts me for losing my cool

when she’s older i’ll tell her the story of the imperfect being

who meant well but didn’t always know the way

who worked hard but didn’t always know the limits

who loved harder than can be described but also made mistakes

until then i’ll hug her tightly

or maybe i’ll rub her arm until she falls asleep

reassuring her that my arms are still her safe space

and once she’s down for her nap i’ll call the doctor to

discuss these meds that still aren’t working

big girl.

Somewhere within the pages of my emails, lives a draft of a letter I wrote.

It speaks volumes of depression so loud, no one can hear the girl screaming within wanting nothing more than to be saved

It describes how my legs have grown tired of walking away from situations that leave me too battered to fight

It’s assumed that because the mass of my skin is a larger number, I am capable of upholding the heaviest of troubles

And I’d crumble under mountains of heartache before I let you hear my war cry

I’d drown in the river of my sorrows before I’d ever quench the thirst of the serpent begging to be hydrated only to defeat me

Big girls don’t cry until we are reminded that we are big girls

Love seems attainable until it’s ripped from the core of my spine causing my ribs to collapse into themselves leaving no room to take a breath—

—and now I’m suffocating looking for the same love that ditched my body to come and revive me

just thoughts

to be the inanimate object that resembles your love

the smell of coffee brings back memories of you staying a little longer

what undiscovered treasures live right under our noses

x marked the spot where i met you

and your hand brushed against mine

time-there’s never enough

or maybe there’s too much

the ocean lives in your eyes

and not a day passes by that i don’t want to dive into you

and not a day goes by that i don’t drown in all that you are

cries of heartache were only described sounds until i met you

something like the scary stories you tell a child to keep them weary of monsters until those very same monsters rob them of their innocence

in a sense i knew you long before i met you

in other ways its like I never knew you at all

x marked the spot where i met you

i fear ex will mark the spot where we fall

seven.

on monday, i retraced the steps that led you to me, and daydreamed into the night

on tuesday, the sun rose and set, all without the slightest movement from the sky

on wednesday, i found and dusted off old pictures of myself when i was young

on thursday, my depression dressed up and convinced me that when it came to friends, i had none

on friday, you held me tightly in your arms, forcing my anxiety into submission

on saturday, I stared in awe of what you are, so rare, a very limited edition

and on sunday, we sat in silence, and comforted each other’s tears, tears that fell for no other reason but to empty and make room for all that came packaged with the next seven days…

p•m•s

How’d you sleep last night? •I didn’t.

Are you having any thoughts of harming yourself? •Do I strike you as an individual who would harm herself?

Do I look like I need help?

Tell me how should I dress my anxiety.

And does PTSD come in plus sizes?

Do I look like I’ve been up all night fighting a war that I never signed up to fight in?

Is my depression showing again?

It likes to hog the spotlight.

Every corner I bury myself in, no matter how deep, my depression digs it’s way out.

My best friends are the worst, though it is them who I turn to, to ensure I am alone.

My anxiety knows no one will ever love me like she does, therefore she tightens her grip when I try to speak.

There is no place that I can hide where they can not find me

And how do I fix my lips to tell them to leave me alone

How do i abandon the only two friends who have stuck by me no matter how hard I’ve tried to push them away

My depression is the sentence that I was born to serve and every time I think about trying to break free, my anxiety reminds me that no one will love me like she does

Where else will I find love that unbinds me in ways I could never explain

She keeps her hand near my mouth, in hopes I don’t say the wrong thing and when she screws up

My depression is there for damage control making sure I am hidden while I can swim in my own defeat, leaving me to drown in my own puddle of mistakes

Pardon my symptoms, they tend to speak out of turn but to answer your question…

No I don’t feel like killing myself today.

One of those.

Woke up overwhelmed and anxious with a hint of sadness.

Trying to rein in my emotions always seems like an easy task until it’s a task I have to complete.

The tears are falling faster than I can wipe them away.

Which could only be natures way of telling me it’s easier to swim with the current than swim against it.

Who wakes up feeling anxious?

What could I have possibly dreamed about to wake up at home and not feel at home?

Trying to act as if all is well while my kid tells me he is bored and wants breakfast is the equivalent to watching a slightly cracked vase be filled with water.

You know the vase isn’t in its best shape, but holding water is what it’s made to do…so FILL.HER.UP.

And with every drop that is added, water slowly seeps through the cracks.

Is there a thrill in testing the limits of fragile items?

Does tragedy let out cries that only attract the hopeless?

Looks like it’ll be one of those days.

You know the ones.

Unexplained and unexpected.

Unheard and unseen.

The picture unhung.

The song unsung.

The medication that doesn’t exist for my current condition.