How’s your health?

Hey, hey, Lovelies! During this month of May, there were a couple of ‘holidays’ which most of us celebrated, the main 2 that come to mind are Mother’s Day and Cinco de Mayo. Now, I feel safe in saying we all celebrated Mother’s Day in some form or fashion as we simply would not exist without a mother. I also understand that Mother’s Day is hard for some as their mothers are no longer here and will be suffering in the same way, myself, next month when I don’t get to go shopping for my Daddy. Since I am pretty much a hermit at this point, I didn’t celebrate Cinco de Mayo as it’s too peopley outside for me and, well, COVID. In about a week, we will celebrate one of my favorite times of year, Memorial Day, when the pools open and I can begin to get rid of this pasty ass winter white I’ve been sporting for about 8 months and replace it with a nice golden tan.

Some may be aware and others may be oblivious to the fact that May is also Mental Health Awareness month. While I, as someone whose mental health hasn’t always been in the best shape, believe this shouldn’t just be acknowledged for 31 out of 365 days, I am happy to see that attention is finally being brought to this issue. Even though national attention is being brought to the importance of mental health, it’s still a bit taboo in some cultures and even more controversial in the different genders.

I know I sound like a broken record when I express how happy, grateful, and blessed I am to be a woman but it couldn’t be truer when it comes to mental health as I am able to freely speak about how I feel or even have an anxiety attack because I’ve over thought something so much my brain simply can’t keep up.

There are some people who believe that your mental wellness is your responsibility and, for the most part, they are correct as no one truly knows what’s going on in your mind except you and, most times, what causes the instability is even you don’t know what’s cause the imbalance. However, there are actions and words which damage you mentally and, before you have time to realize and heal those wounds, you have someone in your life who doesn’t understand or respect you are going thru something. Here’s an example of such: during the pandemic, I took the time to learn how to do lash extensions on myself and am pretty damn good at it but I also have O.C.D. and anxiety.

I spend about 1.5 hours doing my lashes, getting them absolutely perfect and they should last about a month but I have developed a tick of sorts which causes me to use my nails to pick each individual lash off, one by one. I have no idea why I do this; I just know when I’m sitting in the house vegging, have nothing to occupy my mind, I begin touching my lashes and searching for imperfections. When I find one imperfection, in my mind, they are all imperfect and I painfully pluck each individual lash off. My sister, GOD love her, has video called me while I’m in the middle of my tick, have about 4 lashes on one eye while the other is still intact, and gotten a good old belly laugh at my expense and that’s fine, y’all have read enough about her to know she’s been an asshole long enough to no longer faze me. Instead of talking to me to try to understand that this happens when I am mentally unhealthy, she suggested I get a fidget widget or have them professionally done with the belief that if I pay for them, I won’t pick at them and look like Kermit D. Frog by day 8 of installation, bless her heart.

She fails to understand it’s not a financial thing with me as spending a couple hundred dollars isn’t going to deter me as I’m sure I’ve spent more than that in supplies already thanks to my shopping hobby. This lil tick of mine is something I’m trying to understand about myself so I can grow some eyelashes again.

As some people know, I proudly consider myself to be the poster child for therapy as my first session was when I was 7 years old and have no problem getting a tweak here and there when I begin to feel ‘off’. Being such a proponent of therapy, I struggle to understand why others are so adamant about not getting some couch time to talk about feeling jilted and unloved when their sibling got 3 Oreos ® and they only got 2 which has affected them in some way their entire life.

There is a stigma on Black men seeking and receiving therapy that I don’t understand and, as a Black woman who treasures our Black men, it breaks my heart as I believe they need it more than any other ethnicity due to all they endure outside in the world and have to carry around inside.

I have taken on the personal task of working diligently on my mental health as I know it’s been the cause of the demise of relationships and I can own that now. Due to me being ‘the sensitive one’ who would cry when asked what was wrong, my family was conditioned to do whatever it took to not upset me and LORD only knows what that would have been from one day to the next. This wasn’t fair to them but I so love and appreciate them for protecting and sheltering me from things which would have probably sent me over the edge I was constantly teetering on.

While that protection is endearing, it also kept me in a bubble and away from the day-to-day shit that happened in and around the family; as a grown woman, I’m still treated like an extremely fragile piece of crystal who doesn’t feel as connected to my blood as I should and suffered a lot alone by choice. Even though I may feel a sense of disconnect, I know all I have to do is make one phone call and they will all be at my side, and some in front of me, to handle who or whatever is causing me discomfort.

I have found that working on my healing of the issues which caused my instability which was masked as misery and, in turn, expressed as anger now enables me to show up as an authentically nice person. I am not being fake, I’m just no longer weighed down by my pain and darkness. I find it funny that my boss doesn’t even believe I use profanity or drink and was taken aback when he heard me blow my horn in traffic! This is hilarious to me because anyone who knows me also knows I have quite the potty mouth, was taught to drink by my Daddy, and have used my horn so much I broke it and had to resort to using my finger until it was fixed. At nifty fifty, I am so settled into who I am and what I want out of life, I am a duck dammit!

Now, don’t get it twisted, while I may not give into the petty bullshit or immediately jump into revenge mode as I’ve done in the past when someone pisses me off or does me wrong, please don’t test me because the only thing stopping me from grabbing a throat at this point is the unwillingness to be Big Bertha’s bitch while wearing prison orange.

Recently, my sister and I got into it………..wait, that’s incorrect. There was a conversation, one of us received it from their perspective and it blew up into a one sided, 4 day long texting war. This situation showed me how much I had grown as I didn’t argue and kept my voice and tone calm as I truly wasn’t upset, I just wanted the shit show to be over. Due to our past, I’m going to guess that me calmly saying, “It’s fine” was some sort of trigger as it only fueled the anger in and caused her to spew nastiness for days on end.

In the past, I would have immediately been sucked in and gone toe to toe with her but my energy no longer allows me to behave that way. During this exchange, I took the time and responsibility to set a boundary, I recognized who and how she is and drew a line. Did I express any of this to her? Ummm, hell no as that would have only opened a whole new can of annoyance and that boundary isn’t for her, it’s for me, my sanity, and mental stability which I’m no longer sacrificing for anyone else, I’ve been thru too much and worked too hard for this peace.

Mental health is something everyone should be mindful of and get a grip on before it damages whatever they have left in their life. Yes, I understand everyone is not comfortable speaking to a stranger about their uncle touching them but I’m sure you have someone in your life who will lend an ear, shoulder to cry on, and arms to hold you that you feel safe enough to share your pain with who won’t judge or criticize you.

While I believe in therapy, I also know sometimes all you have to do to begin the journey of healing is say it out loud. You may not personally know me but know this, I am a very good listener who doesn’t judge nor offer unwarranted advice and am here if you need or want to share.