30 Day Blog Challenge - Day 3: Describe Your Relationship With Your Parents

Well, I'll be damned! The people who come up with these challenges have got to be the nosiest sonsabishes that there ever was! 

Anyway, my relationship with my parents is good. I mean, they are my parents. I don't have any deep seeded hatred or ill feeling towards them because of the way I grew up. I leave all that stuff for Lifetime movies.

My parents did the best they could with what they had. They raised four pretty decent citizens of the universe. Nobody has any major charges and none of us has spent more than a few nights in the clinker...

That's it. No drama here. I love my Mama and Daddy. They love me. The end. 

30 Day Blog Challenge: Day 2 - 3 Legitimate Fears

What exactly does legitimate mean in this case? I mean, if I'm afraid of something it's legitimate to me? Why I gotta spend my time trying to prove to people why my fear is real? That's silly.

But I guess if I want to participate in the challenge I've got to play nice. *sigh*

I'm afraid of a lot of things. This happens a lot with people who suffer from anxiety I think. If not, and I'm an anomaly, then sit me down somewhere and study me. Like I said, I'm afraid of a lot of things. The fact that I have to narrow the list down to 3 kind of frightens me. I'm terrified of all of these things equally. I don't want it to seem like I'm playing favorites and then something that I didn't mention comes along and shuts me down.

Let's get this over with.

Fear #1: Possums. I don't know where this fear came from. I just know that it's real. There is something about encountering a 4 foot long rat with sharp teeth and zero damns to give that changes your life forever. I ran into one on my parent's back porch back in 1995. The son of a bitch stood up on it's hind legs and hissed at me an then looked at me like I was the one that wasn't supposed to be there. As I was running away, I swear I heard him say, "When you come back make sure you run me my rent." I moved out of my parents house that day and I haven't been back since.

Fear #2: Creepy Kids. Children of the Corn murked something deep down within my soul. Since I saw the first 10 minutes of that movie, I can no longer tolerate kids with creepy voices, creepy faces, creepy clothes, creepy hair, or anything else that I would consider creeptastic. Y'all can keep all that scary stuff over there with you. Give me a fat, juicy baby that can't talk. Or a teenager that cusses and has a bad attitude. But those in betweeners who always seem to float and get possessed by the devil? No ma'am. You wanna see me cry? Have one of the little girls from Mama say hi to me. I guarantee I'll have a wet face and wet pants. I'm not for that mess at all.

Fear #3: I am deathly afraid of deep water. I don't know how to swim. I don't care to learn. I don't like to float. I don't like the way waves feel against my body. I hate feeling out of control and there is nothing that makes me feel like that more than being submerged in water. I mean it. The last time I was in water of any depth was when I got baptized. And when I tell you I held on to the preacher tighter than a fresh weave on the first of the month? Child please. I don't play those drowning games. He really could have just splashed some water on my forehead and called it a night. 

So, those are 3 of my fears. They may seem crazy to you, but they are legitimate to me. Good night. 

30 Day Blog Challenge: Day 1 - 20 Random Facts

OK, so I'm supposed to list 20 random facts about myself. This should be easy, I'm the most random person I know.


1. I'm a speed reader. I've been honing this skill since I was a kid. Not because I have a thirst for knowledge, but because I have a ridiculously short attention span and I need things to get over with quick.

2. I can identify most songs within seconds of them starting. I don't know why or how. I just can.

3. My head is full of random, useless information about everything from pop culture to past US Presidents. One of these days I'm gonna wreck shit on Jeopardy. 

4. I suck at remembering names and faces. But I always remember what a person was wearing. Always. 

5. I've been cursing like a sailor since the 70's.

6. I live my life like it's a musical. Every important moment is assigned a song and occasionally footwork.

7. I've never told a real joke in my life, but lots of people think I'm funny.

8. I cry everyday.

9. I'm afraid of possums, heights, and deep water.

10. I require 8 or more hours of sleep daily. Anything less results in a piss poor attitude and Arnold Drummond hair.

11. My inner fat girl's name is Zenobia. She is the boss of me.

12. I always talk about drinking, but I honestly rarely drink alcohol (once maybe twice a year). I don't like feeling out of control. I also like being sober enough to be able to recall all shenanigans and tomfoolery exhibited by drunk friends. 

13. I have committed my life to living out the following mantras: "Everyone is an Unsub" and "Stranger Danger is Real."

14. I read at least one book a week.

15. I hate white dress shoes, Wal-Mart, tardiness, ashiness, and bad feet.

16. The quickest way to my heart is to make me laugh.

17. I think I'm 6 feet tall. 

18. I collect premium denim, vintage handbags, frogs, funny t-shirts, and shoes.

19. I dance like a old white lady.

20. It may not seem like it, but I'm the nicest person you know. 

30 Day Blog Challenge

I haven't been writing as much as I should, so I was looking for another blog challenge to rev me up. This morning my friend Miss.Lady over at Grace Under Fire posted this one and I've decided to roll with her. :-)

I Don't Care If You Judge Me, Scandal is AMAZING...

I love the television show Scandal. 

I believe it is the best show on television. Yes, I know that the main characters are involved in a torrid extramarital affair. Yes, I know that the show is filled with lies, debauchery, and ridiculousness. You wanna know what else I know? I know that I don’t care. The show is written masterfully and the acting is superb. The fact that Shonda Rhimes can have a nation full of men and women sitting on the edge of their seats every single week says so much for the caliber of the show.

Anyway, lately I’ve been seeing some anti-Scandal sentiment popping up on the web. Now, I have no problem with this. You are free to choose what you like and what you don’t. What bothers me is that people who aren’t fans of the show are doing their best to pull Scandal lovers into their lame, funless circle.

For example, the other day I got an email that basically asked, “As a married woman how can you love “Scandal” as much as you do?” The person went on to say that I condone affairs and objectification of black women by continuing to watch the show. 

If you are anything like me you are shooting a super supreme side-eye/blank stare tandem at the screen.

I did not bother responding to the email directly. I decided to answer it here on the blog. So I need you to please be patient with me as I formulate a response.  

So why do I love the show so much?

Well, first of all because I am grown and I right to choose and love whatever television drama I want. I’m pretty sure that’s in the Constitution.

Secondly, because even with a bullet in his frontal lobe, Fitzgerald Thomas Grant is the finest white man on prime time television right now. Well, finest after Brian Williams.

Third, I am fairly certain (not completely because I have not committed time to the research) that Olivia Pope and Fitzgerald Grant are not real people. But Tony Goldwyn and Kerry Washington do a damn good job of making me want to know more about their fictional relationship.

Fourth, the fashion. Olivia's outerwear and handbag selections are the stuff of dreams. Harrison always looks phenomenal in suspenders. Even the FLOTUS Mellie looks cute in her Tea Party chic maternity wear. 

Yes, it's true that what we see in the movies and on television everyday has probably dulled our senses to some things. But, believe me when I tell you that my eyes are wide open when it comes to trust and fidelity in my marriage and in the world around me. My opinion on infidelity remains the same: it sucks and should never happen. Nothing will change that.

The thought that watching a television show makes me a supporter of every aspect of the show is silly. That's crazy. You can be a fan of something and not like every little thing about it.

I watch Homeland, but I’m not a fan of terrorism.

I watch Chicago Fire, but I’m not a fan of arson.

I watch Fox News Channel, but I am certainly no fan of Sean Hannity. 

I am pretty well versed in seperating fact from fiction. I'm also pretty good at knowing how to enjoy myself. I would never believe that I am so deep that I cannot enjoy a great television show, for fear of how it would make me appear to the rest of the world.

I majored in Agricultural Economics people! That means I am not the one to be analyzing the social constructs of the relationship between Olivia and Fitz. I don’t give one damn about how they are going to affect society. Not one. I just want to be entertained.

As a married woman, what I need to worry about is whether or not I put myself in situations that are dangerous to my relationship. I make sure that I respect my boundaries. When I step out of the doors of my home I am cognizant of who I am and what I represent. Unless my idea of a good time is flatbacking or crack smoking, my choice of entertainment has no bearing on any of those things.

See how that works? I. Me. My. I’m cool with what I do. My husband is too.

That’s all that matters to me. And really, that's all that should matter to anyone else. 

That's pretty much all I have to say about this. In closing I would like say to all of the people who judge us married Scandal lovers:

Please and thanks. 

I AM Changing!

Amen.

I posted that on Instagram a few weeks ago. I don't even remember what the situation was, I just know that I was doubting myself and somebody came along and confirmed that I shouldn't have been feeling that way.

Well, the same thing happened today. I've been wondering if people could see that changes that I've made as well as I can see them. I've been questioning myself and wondering if what I've done is enough. I know it's not. I know I still have miles and miles of road to travel. I don't know, I guess I'm expecting a neon light or something to float above my head to let folks know there's no danger here... well not as much. 

Anyway, I'm talking a walk on my break at work. I'm feeling down and wondering what else I can do and not really coming up with anything. I duck into the ladies room and almost run into one of the women on the custodial staff. 

We had the following conversation:

Her: You are the girl from the cafeteria.

Me: Ma'am?

Her: You are the girl from the cafeteria. Every time I see you, you have a smile on your face. You always laughing and just enjoying yourself. That makes me smile.

Me: Really?

Her: Oh yes. You always bring me joy.

Me: Wow. Thank you. I guess I just don't have anything to complain about. I'm blessed.

Her: We ALL are.

Then she walked out of the restroom. 

I had never spoken to or even noticed the woman before. But to know that she had seen me. That I had blessed her life in some kind of way! When I tell you I wanted to shout and shuffle in that place? Wooo chile! Ain't no footwork appropriate enough for the magnitude of my feelings. 

SHE BLESSED ME. 

Sometimes God will knock you over the head with the answer to your questions. And for a hardheaded person like me...that's exactly what I need. And he certainly mollywhopped me today.

I have been called a lot of names in my life. But I don't ever recall a time where anyone accused me of being happy. Certainly not a person that brings joy. 

I AM changing. And somebody noticed. Epic y'all. Epic.

Beyonce' knows how I feel...

Promises + Lessons + Decisions = New Beginnings

Today is the last day of 2012.

The 364 days before this one have been full of all kinds of lessons for me. As I sit here writing, I know that I am light years away from where I was on January 1. I've laughed, loved, and lived a lot harder than I have in years. I feel like I look different. Like I walk taller. Like I'm 20 pounds lighter. Even my thoughts are not the same as they used to be. This year, I decided follow my homegirl Erykah Badu's advice and stop being a bag lady. 

Life is far too short to sweat the small things. And it's really way too short to spend a lot of extra time on the big things. Everything is not as important as I want it to be. Learning how to prioritize my issues has been valuable. Now I don't go off the deep end for every little thing.

It's so easy to act a certain way when you feel like you are the only person that is feeling those feelings. But I've learned that thinking that way is wrong. One of my favorite bible verses is, "What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun." (Ecclesiastes 1:9 NIV) These words have made a huge impact on the way that I live my life now. The way that I interpret them gives me comfort. There are people who have survived the same things that I have. There are people who have survived worse.

These days I find it quite selfish of me to want to whine about my horrible coworkers or my relationship problems when there are people who are literally fighting for their lives. I think I am doing a disservice to humanity to be pissed off for days because I didn't like the way somebody talked to me or because of the way I perceived a person to treat me. It's shameful to want to stay angry and be hateful, just because. 

I've decided that my happiness will not be tied to other people. My goals should not be set based on what other people are doing. I dictate the amount of joy that enters my life. 

There are so many things that I am supposed to do before I leave this Earth. I will never get them done if I keep dragging all the baggage with me. That mess is an anchor. It keeps you grounded when you are supposed to fly. 

2012 was the year for me to find my wings. In 2013, I'm going to soar.

Holiday Blessings

I know it's been a few weeks since I posted anything. I've been a little busy lately, so please forgive me. All these distractions have been good for me. This season hasn't taken a toll on me emotionally like it usually does. That's a very good thing. 

A few months ago I started a little side hustle. I've been editing and proofreading manuscripts for independent authors. I haven't really had time to post anything over here because I've been busy helping people bring their dreams of being a published author to fruition. That's pretty damn dope. 

There are lots of folks out there that are writing. I've met some pretty talented and interesting people. It's all pretty cool for a book nerd like me. I'm actually making a little money doing something that I enjoy. 

In addition to that, I've been given the opportunity to write a weekly column/blog for a new website called I Won't Settle. The site is dedicated to committing yourself to wait on (or engage in) a healthy relationship, instead of settling for whatever comes your way. My column will be called "Truth Be Told..." You may see some entries that I've posted on here, likely my faves that I felt needed to shared. Mostly, it's going to be my insights on love, marriage, and relationships in general. I'll be as honest as possible and share my experiences and hopefully help some folks out. I'll have to keep my cussing to a minimum over there, but I made a resolution about a decade ago to slow that down anyway. ;-)

So yeah, I've been having a pretty good Winter. No time to dwell on hurt and ghosts from the past, when my present is so full of blessings! 

Happy dance time....

Insomniac Thoughts

See that face? That's how I feel...but cuter. 

It's currently 4:42 in the am and I've been up since 12. This may not be a big deal for some, but this is pretty major for me.  You see, I NEED the 8 hours of good sleep that has been constitutionally (see the 34th Amendment where REM is discussed) allotted to me. NEED.

If I don't get my full 8 hours I'm not nice.  Ask anybody that knows me.  Lack of sleep brings the bitch out of me in the most major way.  I won't even pretend that I like you if I'm sleepy.  I'll chop you down and keep walking without a single fuck being given.

I NEED my 8 hours.  In case you didn't catch it before.

I'm usually in bed by 8:30.  Except on Sundays, Wednesdays and Thursdays.  On these days I stay up past my curfew so that I can enjoy Once Upon a Time, Criminal Minds, and Scandal.  I make sure to take a nap on those days though, so my body will still be rested.  I know you are judging me right now because I keep elementary student hours and engage in Kindergarten practices, but check this out: I don't care.  You can call me what you want, but make sure you call me refreshed.

This is why I'm so vexed about not being able to sleep:  it's making my face look like I'm one of you normal people.  We can't have that.  I take pride in being wrinkle, crack, facial hair, and bag free.  This sleep thing is trying to end me and I have no idea what to do about it.

I mentioned earlier that lack of sleep makes me mean.  Well, it also makes my mind wander to the strangest places.  For instance, about 15 minutes ago, I looked at my Twitter profile picture and legit said the following words (out loud mind you): "I got a neck like Kimora Lee Simmons!" Really? Only a sleep-deprived deviant would say such things about themselves.  But I couldn't stop myself.  And now, I'm sitting here wondering why it took me 34 years to notice these neck rolls I have and contemplating ways to destroy them.  Chin ups? Neck flexes? Neck-o-suction?

I'm pretty sure you're curious about the other weird shit I think about on nights like this? OK, I'll tell you:

• My babies with Willie Geist would be AMAZING. UH-MAZE-ING!
• I wonder if Usher knows he's a gnome?
• Ellen would so be my BFF if she just got to know me!
• Why didn't God grant me my second growth spurt? 
• The next person to touch my hair is going to get choke slammed.
• Hold up...I think that's premeditated assault or something...never mind...

And that's just the past 15 minutes or so.  Imagine having to deal with that for extra hours of awake time! I'm driving myself bonkers!

I'm not sure what's causing this insomnia, but I wish it would go the hell away.  I can't be my usual perky, chipper, up with the people self because of this.  I'm getting complaints from management and employees (read my husband and my son) about my behavior being more odd than normal.

I have to figure something out to fix this.  No drugs though.  My last experience with Ambien was like a Jimi Hendrix trip to Woodstock.  No bueno.  Also, I've heard about people doing foolish shit like sleep eating  and sleep driving on that stuff.  I'm trying not to be a fat girl with inexplicable parking tickets! 

Ugh.

I'm Not "Right"...But It's OK

Last week my book club discussed a book called "The Secret That She Kept".  The main character of the book was a successful Black lawyer who suffered from bipolar disorder.  I enjoyed this book, not only because it was well written, but because the topic hit pretty close to home for me.

After our discussion I decided to write about my struggles with anxiety and depression. Then I got scared and changed my mind.  This is not a subject that I'm completely comfortable talking about with others.  I was always taught to keep "family business in the family" and to "keep some secrets for ya'self" so I figured my fear was the atmosphere's way of telling me to shut the hell up.  But, talking about this has been on my heart and mind for a while now, so I've decided to put my fear aside and have a conversation with you all (although one-sided). If you don't mind.

Several years ago, I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder and major depressive disorder.  Hindsight being 20/20, I now know that I've dealt with both (especially anxiety) for most of my life.  However, the way that my illnesses manifest led me to believe that it was just my personality.  I just thought it was how I was.

Getting a diagnosis didn't change anything though.  I didn't receive any treatment.  I acted like it never happened.  To me, accepting my diagnosis meant that I would be green lighting folks to call me crazy.  And while people have been calling me crazy for years, I didn't want that to be due to a legitimate mental illness.  I knew I wasn't "quite right", but again, I thought it was just my personality.  I was in denial about it for a very long time.  And because I didn't feel bad all the time, denying what was really going on was easy.  Denial kept me in a bad place for a very long time.

About four years ago, I decided that I had to get over myself and seek help.  I experienced an onslaught of life changing events that had me feeling like I was drowning in quicksand.  That's the only way I can describe my depression, quicksand.  When it gets bad, the more I move, the more I feel like I'm going under.    Anyway, all of these things made me feel like I was spinning out of control.  Because I am an anal retentive control freak who feels the need to be able to control EVERYTHING, being out of control made me feel like I was dying.  Not having control made me extremely sad and anxious, so my illnesses escalated.  I tried to work through these feelings on my own for a while.  I FINALLY realized that overcoming them would not be something I could do on my own. I needed help. So I sought out a therapist and talked about my issues with my family physician.

Doing that was the single best decision that I have ever made.  It literally saved my life.

So, I said all of that to say that I'm writing this post for the people who are out there who are feeling the heavy darkness of depression or the chest crushing pressure of anxiety. I understand. 

I have a mental illness.  My brain doesn't fire the same way that "normal" brains do.  I will never be 100%, at least not when I'm not on meds.  I'm not ashamed to share that I have to talk to someone to help me clear my head or that I have to take a pill (or two) to make sure my brain fires the way that it should. 

OK, full disclosure, I'm not ashamed anymore.  Remember I told you that I'm anal.  I like for things to go as planned.  Deviation from the plan causes problems for me.  Being diagnosed with a mental illness is a HUGE deviation.  I worked hard to be perceived as the perfect daughter, the perfect friend, the perfect student, the perfect girlfriend.  Depression and anxiety prevented me from completing my checklists for life.  I couldn't control my own feelings.  Because of that I was ashamed.  Shame led to denial.  For years I denied my illness and kept the fact that I even had a diagnosis to myself.  I didn't tell anyone.  More than anything, I didn't want people to look at me differently.  I didn't want to be judged, coddled, avoided, or called crazy (people still call me crazy, but for different reasons that I'm completely comfy with).  Shame is also part of the reason why it took me so long to seek treatment.  

I'm pretty sure some of you are wondering why I'm even saying anything now.  I know for sure that someone is thinking that I'm sharing too much.  I'm honestly not completely sure.  I just wanted to talk about it.  I felt like if I was going to live my life honestly, I had to be honest with myself and with others about the things that I struggle with on a daily basis.  Depression and anxiety happen to be a couple of those things.

Years of prayer and therapy have gotten me to a place where I can freely talk about my issues without fear of what other people think about me.  I know now that I have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.  I'm not alone.  Knowing that I don't have to deal with this on my own brings me comfort.  So I guess I'm trying to bring comfort to someone out there that is feeling like they are all alone with their struggle. 

You are NOT alone.  Don't let the dark, murky feelings, scary feeling that you may be feeling overwhelm you.  Don't make any rash decisions because you are feeling low.  Don't let your fears keep you from doing things that will likely bring you joy. Don't let these things make you feel like you have no hope.  Some solutions are permanent, those are not the right decisions to make. 

Remember that. 

Understand that mental illness has no specific demographic.  All mentally ill people are not poor or homeless and walking the streets talking to themselves.  Mental illness can be an urban raised, suburban living, college educated, black sorority girl with high blood pressure and a fetish for vintage handbags.

It can affect anyone.

And anyone can recover.  Although it's a life changer, it doesn't have to change your life for the worst.  Seek help.  Find a therapist or clergyman that can help you.  Talk to you physician and see if medications could help.  Exercise, journal, blog...do something that will help you relax and bring you some joy.

A diagnosis of a mental illness is not a great thing.  I'll be honest about that.  If I had my choice, I definitely wouldn't choose to deal with the struggles of depression and anxiety.  But, that's not the path that God has laid out for my life.  I've come to the realization that it's not something that can be ignored.  It won't go away on it's own.  I'm in this fight for what might be forever.  And I've decided as long as I fight this battle in a healthy way I will be okay.  I hope that someone reading this comes to that realization too.