The holiday season is fully upon us. There’s less than one week before Christmas and I am super excited. Christmas is a family favorite. Obviously, the children love it because… GIFTS. I’ve tried to provide the giving is better than receiving narrative and they think that’s great and all, but they’re children. So yeah… YAY GIFTS!!! Hahaha!
I grew up in a house where Christmas was a big deal. I mean, multiple Christmas trees, decorations everywhere, gifts galore and the joy of the season in abundance. My mother orchestrated the production of Christmas and injected it into everyone around her. So, it still stands. The tradition is firmly planted.
Imma be honest though. Christmas stresses me out. We have four children. That’s a lot of seasonal “joy” to spread around. And it’s not even all the money. Trust— there’s a lot of it being spent. It’s the doing of it all. And I’m conflicted; right? Because I love the outcome of the doing. I even actually love the act of doing, but it is also wearing me out.
When people see you, you look good. People love you, you laugh a lot… by societies standards you’re successful, you have friends and you’re gorgeous. You don’t see what they see.
Depression distorts the lens of your life.
You don’t see whole reflections. Your view is produced by a dirty, broken mirror.
The first thing you hear when you wake up, the last thing you hear before you go to bed and in every single free space in between, your mind hears that sad song and those demeaning words together, infinitely looped… convincing you that this world and you would be better served without your existence.
I thought she just needed to warm up to the new school year. We were in a new grade, in a new building. Transitions can be challenging. I reasoned that anyone might need a few days to settle in. Then, things quickly escalated. She didn’t want to go to school. The final straw was when I had to go pick her up 2 days in a row because the office called me with her bawling in the background.
Up until that point I thought she was having a little separation anxiety. Which would have been standard. But, it wasn’t that she was crying. It was the way she was crying. The desperation and fear. The way she clung to me let me know that something was very wrong. This was more than separation anxiety. My girl… my effervescent star was losing her shine.
The world would lead you to believe that it is impossible for women to share in loving, productive, symbiotic relationships. I think this is particularly true in portrayals of Black women, buuuuuut it’s fair to say that women of all races get a bad rap for how they interact with each other.
Blame misogyny. Blame patriarchy. Blame media.
For me, I think it is important to cast out these negative and false accounts regarding relationships between women. These accounts that portray us as overemotional, drama filled and in constant competition. I won't lie, I have had a bad interaction or two. However, over the course of my life it is my relationships with other women that have lifted me up and held me down. It is my relationships with women that have provided covering and protection.
I can’t sleep. It is currently 2:06am and ya girl is sitting at the kitchen table talking to you. Not that I don’t enjoy y’all, but you know. The room is the right temperature, my bed is super comfy and I’m freakin sleepy. Not to mention my handsome, lightly snoring husband is up there. Buuuuuuut so is my toddler. So there’s that.
It’s raining cats and dogs, which usually equates to excellent sleep. Not today. Today I am awake. Because this rarely happens to me— I know something is up. I’ve always been a night owl, but this ain’t that. I am not currently choosing to be awake. My mind is trespassing. It won’t stop wandering over my life.
I’m leaning into transparency and vulnerability today.
I want to apologize.
Life is hard. I don’t look at the world through rose colored lenses. I don’t think anyone should. I think you should work towards the life you want until you see the life you want. While I believe you can choose to be happy; I know it’s more nuanced than just deciding. For my friends and readers who are living with depression and anxiety. I see you. I am you.
Social media in theory is an amazing tool for enhancing relationships. Too many of us are using it as the canvas for our relationships when it should only be one of the brushes we use to paint. It’s one way to manage relationships; not the only way. It’s supposed to bring us together, but the truth is that it does the exact opposite. It gives a false sense of unity because you can see what’s going on in the lives of others even when you’re not an active participant. Some of our friends are at the end of their proverbial rope and we don’t know because we’re using Facebook pictures and posts to determine their mental and emotional well being. You think you know what’s going on, but you really have no idea.
Smiling faces tell lies.
For me, it’s the difference between shopping online and walking into the store. From the comfort of your device you can see the color, size and fabric. That is good information. But… You cannot feel the weight of the material, the vibrance of the color or how it fits on your body.
I’m a sunshine girl. The sun makes me feel invigorated. It makes anything that I am doing so much better. It’s funny because as much as I love the actual sun; I am a huge proponent of carrying your sunshine on the inside. I determine my mood; not the weather. I am the thermostat.
Still, I’m not feeling it today. Which proves the journey of positive thinking and practice is ongoing.
Reflection helps me to be more intentionally empathetic. As an individual who isn’t living with anxiety, depression or grief, but who still feels”UGH!” During repeated overcast days; how do folks who regularly live with these negative emotions feel?
I know the heart wrenching impact of suicide and the extreme, desperate heart and mind space one has to be in to make that choice. I also have friends who suffer from depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder and perhaps other mental illnesses I know nothing about. I worry about them. I worry when they get to quiet and when they stay away too long. I wonder if my phone is gonna ring with the grief of a parent or sibling telling me they’ve chosen their own final act on the stage of life— I am sometimes terrified by the knowing… the knowing that no matter how beautiful, intelligent, witty and resourceful I find you— that if you don’t see it in yourself what I think doesn’t matter.
If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion.
-Dalai Lama
Somebody stiffed me y’all and I am pissed… and conflicted. I paid someone money for a product. They took my money and provided nothing. And while I am pissed; like put a cape on my ass pissed #SuperPissed, I am also feeling very sad and sorry for this individual. Before you go there— I’m being 100 percent genuine. No facetiousness. This person is a gifted artist and a gem of a human being. Period. I discovered those traits about him after many conversations and emails regarding the work he was contracted to do and life in general. So, more than I want to strangle him for leaving me high and dry; I want to wrap him in hugs and love. I think that’s what he needs most right now.
Ummm…. Stephanie? What are you saying? To be honest, a part of me isn’t sure because I’m still processing. Maybe I haven’t even let the dust settle enough, but I felt like talking to you guys about it. I think that sometimes people do stuff for inexplicable reasons. Sometimes they do it directly to us, sometimes to themselves and sometimes we catch the heat from what they thought was only effecting them. Collateral damage is more than a mediocre Arnold Schwarznegger film. His life is in shambles right now. Rather than call me, email me or write a message in the sky and say that to me; he’s hiding from me… under guilt and shame.
Now at this point we all know how I feel about guilt and shame. I rebuke it in the name of Jesus! No. Seriously. I’m no bible thumper, but I know some things. And I know that we were not created to live a life weighted with guilt and shame. Funny thing is my first thought about “the homie” was indeed anger and disappointment before I reflected on the circumstances more comprehensively. I legit had an Aha! moment like…. Dude, you have to live your message. Wait, what? Yep. You gotta BE who you say you are. I’m not gon lie I had an attitude about the revelation. I wanted to call him and go IN. Do you hear me??? IN!!! Instead, I thought about the space he might be in and the damage I might cause him by unleashing my verbal arsenal. Plus, it’s unlikely that my verbal explosion was going to miraculously cause him to crawl out of the funk of things to keep his word anyway. More than all that, I knew I could encourage, uplift and set expectations without demoralizing him or increasing his guilt and shame. I’m just not about that life anymore.
So where are we now? I haven’t heard from him. He didn’t complete the work or return my money. Still, my message to him remains… Take care of you. Take care of you. Am I disappointed and annoyed? Hella. It cost me more than the money. A lot of time and energy went in to the work we were doing together. But my heart… my soul is in tact. His is not. So hold a good thought for this man as I am. Check on your friends who are living with depression and anxiety. Be kind to folks even when they piss you off. You don’t know the road they’re on… Don’t be the car that runs them over. Peace y’all. As always #ChooseYou. Love you and see you soon.
If you or anyone you know is suffering from depression or anxiety; there's help. Do not suffer in silence. Visit www.nami.org or www.blindfaithchgo.org. Take care of you!
I’m not here because I’m an expert. I’m here because I have experiences -Stephanie
