They Say To Check On Your Strong Friends...

 And right now, I am worried that I may be the strong friend that needs to be checked on...

Aside from being a poet and "sharing" my life that way, I am not exactly one to post publicly about what is going on privately. No matter how much I want to. I may touch on it vaguely with a blog post here and there, but to completely come out and say something, that, I will not do. However, it is because of recent private events that I am even writing this post today.

I am not certain, but I want to believe that I have touched on my battle with the depression in the past. If I have not done so, I will briefly do so right now. 

In 2015, my doctor diagnosed me with depression. For a few years, I was on an antidepressant until I started having strange side effects. After getting off of the medication, I learned to manage my depression and I have been doing fairly well in the 10 years since my diagnosis. It also helps that I have a solid support system and that, when I feel that I need to, I see a therapist. Now, here is the thing... It takes a hell of a lot for me to reach out. To anyone. Ever. I have a tendency to bottle everything up inside because I do not like to seem "weak". Even though I cry for everything, from movies to songs to seeing a newborn baby, it is absolutely taboo to me, for me, to cry when something hurts. 

"To feel is to fail" is something that I began telling myself some years back.

Even though society has conditioned a lot of us to believe that to cry is to show weakness, growing up, it wasn't exactly taught that I had to be strong; I simply observed my mother never really breaking down. Like, it is almost a rare occurrence to see her cry; one that causes me to go into full on panic mode when I see it happening. She carried the weight of her pains on her shoulders while being the best parent that she could be. Soon shouldering the responsibility of raising three children on her own, I suppose she believed that she did not have time to cry when there were tears of her children that she had to wipe up. Crazy how history repeats itself because I understand that "struggle" more than I probably should...

Anyway...

Multiple times, in the last year, I found myself on the precipice of darkness. Not because of the sadness of the situations, but because I refused to allow myself the grace to embrace the emotions that came with each of them to where the weight of the sadness began to pull me down. Did that make any sense at all? I have wanted to cry, even started to cry a couple of times, but then, I feel guilty for doing so. In the middle of a "breakdown" (as I have started to call them), I swallow back whatever cries I have left, wipe away my tears, put on a brave face, and go about the rest of my day because "I do not have time for that shit."

That is what I used to be able to do anyway...

The recent passing of the family pet seems to be the straw that is breaking the camel's back because my brave face is crooked and those around me are starting to take notice. I do not like that. At all. I am okay, though. At least that is what I keep telling them...

The darkness is coming again; I can feel it...

One misplaced brick is going to cause the whole building to collapse and when that happens, how much of me will be able to rise out of the rubble..?

(**Please note, that I am NOT suicidal and this is NOT a cry for help.**) 

There Is Just Something About Grief...

That I simply cannot grasp...

Grief is fickle sort of emotion; one minute, everything is okay and the next, it is not. 

Earlier this year, two relatives of mine passed away within four weeks of one another; my aunt on my father's side and my grandfather (their father). I had not spoken to my aunt since possibly my early twenties, but I was rather close to my grandfather. Her death, although unfortunate, did not hit me the way that my grandfather's death it me; it crashed into me like that of a freight train whose brakes no longer functioned properly and left me reeling. 

We did not talk as often in the last few years of his life because his memory was pretty much gone, but the last conversation we did have was one that I will remember always. I should have known then that death was inevitable; it generally is when your loved one loses their memory like that, coupled with all of the other side effects that comes with it. Yet, who is truly ready to accept that the end is near for someone that they hold dearly in their heart?

Forgive me; it seems like I am taking the scenic route to what it is that I am trying to say...

The other day, I was listening to a book and in the book, one of the main characters lost his grandmother. As the narrator was describing the young man's loss, I flashed to the day of my grandfather's service and the moment when his face came upon the screen with the words "In Loving Memory" underneath him. Tears instantly crept down my face and I did everything in my power to hide them from my coworkers. Of all the times of the day, it had to be while I was at work. Again...

That was how it was in those first couple of weeks when he passed. All the crying. All the sadness. All the memories playing on an endless loop in my mind. A place that I could not get out of even if I tried. You cannot escape what is inside of your mind, you know? I think that is why many people go crazy...

The grief hits me at random. It always does. Same goes for an aunt that passed in 2021 or an uncle in 1994. It seems as though no amount of time passing changes the sadness that comes with missing someone that is no longer on this side of the ground and that is what bothers me the most. Like, why does it still hurt? Why won't the pain go away? Hell, will it ever go away?

One would think that because death is as sure as the sun setting and the moon rising, we would be used to it by now. Fully accept it by now; however, that is not the case, nor will it ever be. At least not for me, and that is the part that seems to boggle me the most...

The Way Butterflies Flit In The Summer...

Is the same way they are flitting throughout my chest...

There is something to be said about a person that can make you feel like a kid again. Something about the way they take you back to the days of youth when school yard crushes were practically normal. You almost find yourself rather, like, giddy simply at the sight of them. All of your teeth are on display and your voice even changes an octave. You suddenly find yourself feeling shy and your face feels forever flush. 

I have not felt this way in quite some time, but I am feeling like this rather often as of late. 

I find it extremely fascinating because I did not think that I would feel that way about anyone again. Or maybe, just maybe, I had convinced myself not to feel that way about anyone. I purposely chose individuals that did not cause me to feel butterflies because to feel the butterflies would mean that I would have feelings for the individual; and quite frankly, I was not ready to have feelings for anyone. However, when the right individual comes into your life, you find that you are not be able to control any of your feelings; especially the butterflies.

Right now, I like someone. Like, really like them and I have for quite awhile. Actually, they have become my muse and the reason I have written so many poems in such a short amount of time. It is the fact that they genuinely like me back and the way that they like me back that makes the butterflies' wings beat harder in my chest. That makes me want to write about them because my adoration for them is so overwhelming. 

Understand, it had been ages since my creativity flowed so abundantly.

I kept telling myself that I needed something to truly make me want to write again, I just never imagined it would be because of him...

Here We Are, Once Again...

On the eve of a new year...

If you have read any of my past NYE entries, you will know that I generally like to reflect on the past year; this time is not any different. Everything about this past year as been a true blessing. Honestly, to be able to see a new year ring in is a blessing in and of itself. 

As I sit here, looking out of my bedroom window at the dreary weather while "Assassination Classroom" plays in the background, I ponder over the words to type here. I have so much to say, but so little at the same time. I find it rather interesting because as a writer, this year was the year that I struggled the most to articulate my thoughts. Honestly, looking back, writing was the only thing I struggled with.

For about six months or so, I did not write. At all. For whatever reason, I just simply could not. Each time I considered writing, my mind drew a blank. I could not write a poem nor could I work on the WIPs that required my attention. I would be lying if I said I knew why that was, however, I am still trying to figure it out so that it does not happen again next year.

As far as writing being the only thing I struggled with, it was. For the first time, in a long time, I had an amazing year. I am absolutely grateful for how my 40th year of life turned out; I could not have asked for a better introduction into my 40s. There were so many ups and an over abundance of smiles. Good vibes shared with some pretty awesome souls. There were also a couple of major milestones that were pretty positive as well, but above all else, I finally felt free... 

I cannot explain to you exactly what that means, but I know how it feels. It feels like I no longer have to hold my breath or squeeze my eyes shut. I no longer feel like I am trapped or completely lost in my own life. It feels like I finally have my footing and a clearer view of who I am and what I stand for and for that, I am extremely grateful...

I have been trying to find the words to wrap this post up, but none are sufficient. 2024 truly was an amazing year for me and I pray that 2025 will be even better! 

Happy New Year, My Luvs!

It Was Only Then That I Acknowledged...

That I am a self saboteur...

I cannot recall what led me to that particular moment, but something heavy occurred me. Even though I am big on TAKING accountability for my actions, I had not been big on HOLDING myself accountable for those very actions. Projects, goals, and even parts of my personal life have unfortunately fallen victim to the destruction that I inflict when I am either on the cusp of success or in the middle of someone getting too close to me. I would be lying to you if I said that I knew why I self sabotage like I do, but the only thing I can think of is that it is tied to fear.

Ah, yes, fear. 

The driving force behind a lot of things that cause people to not step out of their comfort zones and I, no matter how much I feel like I have changed, am no different. 

I am afraid of failing, so at times, I refuse to embrace success. Even standing at success' door, I will often run away as soon as I hear the handle turn. Although I may know what is on the other side, I also know that with success comes failure and I am too hard on myself when I have failed at something I put my all into. 

I am afraid of getting hurt, so I refuse to allow myself to get comfortable enough to ever let my guard down. The person could be someone I really like, but because where there is a beginning, there is an ending, I will find a reason to either push them away or walk away myself. 

Geez.... That whole entire logic seems rather twisted as I sit here and type it out; and kind of embarrassing as well. 

I honestly cannot sit here and type this and move forward doing the same things that I have been doing; I simply cannot and I will not. Like, how absolutely depressing is that? Knowing that you refuse to allow yourself to be better, or even to be happy, just because you do not like to be disappointed or hurt. Ultimately, you decided to embrace being afraid. Of change, no less because let's face it, that is exactly what it all boils down to. 

So, here I am, once again, so afraid of change that I will self sabotage any, and everything, in order to remain completely complacent in my comfort zone and that is not okay! When did this happen and how do I make it stop? 

Apparently, it seems as though I have some more soul searching to do...

How Can One Properly Market...

When social media feels so daunting?

There used to be a time when I would happily log in to whatever social media account I had for my author side and interact with everyone. From fellow authors and writers to admiring fans and future readers; I would spend countless hours online socializing with them all. Most days, I could not wait to wake up and post what it was that I was working on, comment on what another was working on, or even ask the many questions that I always found myself thinking about as I fell asleep the night before. The more active I was, the more people engaged with my posts. 

There used to be a time... 

I cannot explain what changed from that time up to now, but I do know that I am not as active online as I once was. Hell, I am hardly active at all. 

I know that my lack of online presence is possibly hurting my chances of successfully getting my work out there since that is a huge form of marketing these days; however, that is just a risk I often find myself comfortable with taking. I think it is because it sometimes feels like a chore to be active vices just something to pass the time. It does not help that a lot of the algorithms require some kind of "cheat code" or "money dump" in order for your posts to be seen. 

It is no secret, to anyone, that the minute something you enjoy goes from being fun to being a chore, you find yourself no longer able to enjoy it. Clearly, I feel that that is the case with me. 

Understand, it is not that I am not familiar with Social Media Marketing. In fact, it is something I am rather skilled at. Over the years, I have taught myself the ins and outs of what works and what doesn't; read articles, downloaded books, paid attentions to trends, etc. With that knowledge, I know that my being active online plays a key role in getting future readers interested in my work, I just do not like the fact that there is so much more to it now than it was a few years ago.

Hmmm... 

Now that I think about it, I find it rather interesting that I, an extreme introvert, was ever that active on social media to begin with...

Grief Is Such An Interesting Emotion...

Especially when you are grieving someone that is very much alive...

It does not matter the individual that you are no longer in contact with, the memories are what always remain. Forever. And ever. Until they finally fade away; if they even fade away at all...

A few years ago, I walked away from someone who played a major role in my life. For over two decades, this person was in my life. A part of my life. Was my life. This person is still someone that crosses my mind every now and again; however, when they do, I often find myself angry at the weighted sadness that I feel in my chest over their absence. I say this mainly because their departure from my life involved some form of disrespect. 

Remember those boundaries I mentioned awhile back? Well, they crossed plenty of them.

Anyway...

Recently, it seemed as if memories of this person crossed my mind more than they have in quite some time. Like, fairly often compared to the "not at all" that was the last couple of years. As a result, I found that I was having trouble rationalizing my feelings of both sadness and anger at having these memories, so I saw my therapist about it (yes, I see a therapist and I strongly recommend it). During our last session, she told me that, "even though you no longer talk to someone, you will still go through a grieving process of losing them. Especially if it was someone that meant a lot to you." 

Hmmm...

There was plenty more said within that hour long session, but that specific bit right there is what hit me the hardest. In all honesty, I cannot say that I was pleased to hear that either. I was probably more annoyed than I should have been because why is my mind allowing to me think about anyone who I had to abruptly cut out of my life? Why do my eyes water at the sight of their pictures? Why does my chest ache at the memories? 

"Because you have to grieve what no longer is. It may take some time, but just like with death, you are going to grieve. The feeling of grief comes because of the death of something and this is no different..."

I hate it here....