Great read! And so very true!!!!
I thought I was depressed because of social media.
I posted a picture of myself on Instagram and five minutes later, I deleted it, because nobody liked it. I thought I looked pretty in it. I genuinely loved the picture, but in a span of five minutes, I decided I didn’t like it anymore, because nobody else did.
Two weeks later I posted it again with a stronger filter and increased the brightness, and I got 57 likes, and I felt good again, but then an overwhelming feeling of disappointment washed over me. I liked the first picture better, so why didn’t I keep it up?
It’s because I define my worth by how many likes I get on a picture or a post, and the realization of that fact actually causes my stomach to flop.
We’re the generation of social media. We all have four core social media accounts…
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Wow What a story!!!!
June is Vitiligo Awareness Month. For the 1% of people who are affected by this disease, June 25th is recognized as World Vitiligo Day. Vitiligo is a hereditary condition in which you lose the pigment of your skin. Pigment causes skin color and is produced by cells called “melanocytes.” Another word for pigment is “melanin.” There is no cure.
As I celebrated with others I could not help but reflect on my journey. I was born with it. No one knew I had vitiligo except my immediate family. By the age of 4, my pigment resurfaced in the affected areas. So throughout my childhood, I was a beautiful brown skin tone. Rich in melanin. By the age of 22 I began to lose pigment in the corners of my eyes as well as my scalp. Not remembering much about it I began to do research.
I can remember…
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At the crux of it, we all want to find unconditional love. We want to give unconditional love and know that we are receiving the best in return. So much so that we open ourselves up to the dangers of dishonesty, unauthentic people, and a hurt so powerful, once it’s gone through your body, you feel numb to anything. Even a drink of water cannot be felt in your dried soul.
The recent events in my life have shown me one thing. I talk a good game, but my follow through is still 1998. I recently met someone that I thought was made just for me. Although it was short, the time we knew each other, my whole heart was ready for him. He told me of his life past, present, and what he saw for the future. He talked to me like he knew me. Like he was already a part of my present and destined to be my future. His nature was sweet, he was intelligent, and generous. His looks were so far away from what I’d imagined, I knew that this had to be the man that God fashioned for me. ONLY for me. The more I talked to him, heard his voice, I could hear it when I first woke in the morning, even though it was just a text. A screen of words, I knew him, I heard him. A German prince had come to sweep me away. Away from the job that burns me out, the state that has grown old, away from my own head, which was focused on finding him.
But to learn that it was just a fantasy conjured up from a liar, and manipulator, was too much to bear. When I found out I had been lied to, was being prepped to be used, it was as though I could not bear the thought of moving past that moment. I did not know how the next 24 hours would continue to move. How was the sun going to rise and the world go on and I’m stuck in this bubble of hurt? The desperate need to be filled with love from him was such a revelation to me. Here I thought I had moved passed loving liars and eating dishonesty. I thought I had learned to only eat from the plate of truth. But in my own way I sold myself a pipe dream. It wasn’t filled with crack but it was filled with something worse….. expectation! What I expected and what was were two different things. But expectation colored my eyes. The rose colored glasses were purchased and on my face before I even knew I picked them up.
The numbness passed after I let it process. But what was left in it’s wake is a charred soul. It will take more than time to rebuild. Putting your all into expectation can be the death of your soul. The lesson to myself to kill expectation before it kills me. Can I do that? Am I ready for that? Buying one 2X4 at a time, nailing the shutters up, and re-creating my healed soul will not be easy. Why should it be? It’s sacred, something I forgot while allowing the expectation to romance me. This time it’s being built with another block of experience. A high rise that will take a God-fearing man to climb. So the lesson here is, don’t allow expectation to kill you or your dream. Catch it and let it fly away before it can contaminate your being!
Being that white supremacists always preferred hoods and masks, nothing really has changed. Instead of preferring white hoods, they prefer white lies. The white, Klu Klux Klan hood, while still e…
I was listening to ESPN one weekend at work and the story was about Eric Kramer, a former pro-football player who attempted suicide. He survived, which is a testament to the fact that he is supposed to be here to tell his story. He suffered from depression for much of his life. Playing football and the head injuries were apart of that. And could have possibly made it worse. He lost his 18 year old son to a drug overdose and I’m sure that was difficult to process. He planned his death by writing letters to family members. He got a hotel room and shot himself. To be a part of his family and know that he wanted to hurt himself I imagine had to be difficult.
He’s not the first and he’s not the only person who has thought about suicide or tried it. Have you? It’s a hurtful subject to deal with. I cannot imagine what goes through a person’s head to drive them to these thoughts. From what I’ve heard, people feel as though they have no other options left. They feel like their family would be better off without them. They think that the world would be a better place without them. They can’t see past their pain. To see that their family would be eternally hurt if they lost you. Your family, especially children, would blame themselves and wonder what they could have done to help you. They will forever keep that thought in their minds. So who’s life would be made better by killing yourself? NO ONES…. not even you OWN!
So have you ever thought about hurting yourself? Have you ever thought about ridding the world of you? I think we’ve all had the thought that maybe I’m not good enough to be here. Or at least wondered how people would react if we were no longer of this world. I know I’ve had that thought. Not because I think I’m a bad person or feel like the world would be better off without me, but because I wonder what my impact has been on people. You never know the impact you’ve had on someone.
But please if you have or have had friends that have thought attempted suicide or even thought about it, continue to check on them. Continue to show them what they mean to you. We never know what really lies behind a smile. It could be hurt and it could be a hurt so profound, that the smile cracks. But we have to pay attention to see the crack. Make sure the smile is genuine. It’s hard for some to ask for help, but we have to let them know we’re available for whatever they need.
Yesterday, I talked briefly about walking away from an unhealthy relationship, that if I’m being honest, I always knew deep down was some bullshit. It started off as a friendship, turned flirty, then became physical, and somehow I built a whole relationship in my head, on some bullshit. Yea, he contributed with empty promises, but who believed them after he continued to show me otherwise…
We never went on dates, we barely saw each other, and we only communicated when I reached out, but when I threatened to stop participating in the fauxlationship, he protested. That meant he cared, right?! Yes. He cared about himself.
And, he was winning. I was driving his ass around town, sleeping with him, and being his biggest fan. I wouldn’t want to lose all that either!
We did this for months. I accounted for him, to my friends and to myself. When I had…
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Goodbye summer, and hello fall.
Goodbye cycle one, and hello cycle two…
Yesterday, I talked my doctor into a pregnancy test on my blood work, because I was too impatient to wait 9 more days. I got the NEGATIVE news late last night and thought I was fine. This morning I was not fine. I was sad. It took me awhile to get here, to be ready. I feel like I’ve been in transition for far too long, and I’m ready, deserving, dare I say entitled to, a positive outcome.
I love new adventures and new chapters, but I hate the space we must move through to get to there. I don’t like transition. I don’t like the uncertainty and the anxiety that accompanies it. And as I moved through the day, I realized that I was transitioning out of a space that I love and into one I’m not…
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