Mental illness feels like

for me, at least, the constant desire to be physically immobile while your mind is in a constant race. It feels ungrateful, negative, heavy, and confusing. Like I’m two steps from snapping but three steps from clarity.

I just want to lay down. I just want to cry. I, i, i, me, me, me — selfish. So I beat myself up for not feeling up to life. I berate myself for not owning my accomplishments and learning from my failures.

It’s so complicated. You need to pray, they say. You’re in a funk – that’s a good one. One step at a time. One day at a time. One loss. One win. I’m tired.

So I keep moving forward because I have to. Because there’s a shred of dignity that doesn’t permit anything less. But I am tired. I am worn. I feel negatively about many things. This, I assume, is because negative things happen.

You are only to speak positivity over your life!! That one is my favorite but I don’t think that is the answer. The brighter side of things still feel incredibly dark.

Scraped knees, shattered heart, bruised ego. It’s the smallest detail that weighs the most. Deep sighs to relieve the heaviness of all this. And still only for a brief moment.

Loud music & sing-a-longs mask a deficiency in happiness. Really I just want to feel better.

Things to Do

It’s 3 AM. I haven’t done this is a while. “This,” meaning vent on a public forum. I’ve got a list of things on my mind; things I would like to accomplish that I don’t see happening in the near future but it would be beyond momentous if it did. So this is a list, no more or less.

1. Find an apartment in a quiet and safe neighborhood. Somewhere off the grid but not so much so that there’s no room for interaction.

2. Pay off my debts – particularly student loans.

3. Finish school. Become a CPA…but I’m almost 30. My mom tells me the world is coming to an end everyday & there’s no point in wanting more or trying for more. Never directly, always in a passive manner – but this isn’t the place for that.

4. Write comfortably about anything & everything. I want to lose the fear of offending my family and friends.

5. Apologize to my mom but also explain some things to. I think that my mom feels like making mistakes mean you don’t care. Nothing matters beyond the mishandling of a situation.

6. Talk to my sister. We don’t like each other. I didn’t start disliking my sister until a fee years ago when it became clear how much she dislikes me. The love is there. It’s still there, I can feel it but there’s also an unhealthy burden of what I’m hoping is a misunderstanding.

7. Reach out to Madison’s family – however I’m not pressed about it. This is actually the last thing on my mind but I don’t want to forget to put it up here.

8. Apologize to Desmond. He’s always been a great parent and supportive. I sometimes wonder if his supportive nature becomes smothering because it squeezes everyone else in my life out. This is a losing battle. There are things he needs to atone for as well and us both being prideful people, we try to have this conversation and it goes nowhere. My energy for this has depleted but the desire has not.

9. Apologize to Kesha. I said some wicked things to this girl. I miss the friendship but if I could take back what I said, I would and eventually, I will make my rounds because I am the queen of bottled up rage. Lord help the person it explodes on.

10. Talk to Taylor. This is a friend from childhood. I miss our childhood friendship but we have our differences and I believe have grown apart.

11. Put another list of things to do together for what happens next. Maybe add a time line to this one. There are still many things I want to accomplish while the world is shattering around us, while the tombs open and Jehovah’s rage grows more apparent. 

12. This isn’t quite as important either, I suppose. One day I want to explain to my mom why I hate that she brings up the time I asked her to call me Kimberly. I was around five or six. The ugliest little black boy said that I was ugly because I was black. Just the day before, I was his little girl friend and suddenly, I was hideous because of the color of my skin. It amazes me how these things, little things, can mold you. Anyhow, he told me that the white girl, Kimberly, she was pretty and she would always be pretty because she is white. I went home and left post its around the house as a reminder to myself and my mom that my name should be Kimberly. 

I’m going to bed.

A Lesson in Vernacular

Hi guys..

I gotta get something off of my chest because the more this occurs, the more annoyed I get. Here’s the thing I am educated, I am Black, and I am a single mother of two babies. I have to say that I get so tired of people splitting hairs over what I decide to call myself because of the negative connotations that surround whichever title: Baby’s, kid’s, or child’s mother. When you get down to it, I am all of the above. Just because Some people hop around, smack their lips, and drop the letter s when they say “baby mother” (which is erroneous in a grammatical sense alone) doesn’t make it a ghetto term. As I stated earlier, I happen to be Black as well and we know the negative connotations surrounding that title. Does that make me any less Black? Absolutely not. I define who I am and what the title means anytime I interact with someone.

This whole baby daddy/ baby momma high horse thing is getting crazy. To say I’m being disrespected or disrespecting myself for saying I’m his babies’ mom….why? He & I never married and while we were in a relationship at one point, we aren’t now. I don’t say “he’s my baby daddy” because it’s improper English but I will say that he’s my babies’ daddy/father because, well…who else would he be? Him being a parent to my children separates him from the rest of my exes. My vernacular doesn’t include the terms baby momma and baby daddy unless I’m being sardonic however, if it did it wouldn’t be disrespectful or degrading because it’s a fact.

What it boils down to, correct me if I’m wrong, is a grammatical error. Would I have rather been his wife than just the bearer of his children, absolutely. I’d also prefer being a wife over a wifey but that’s a whole different ball game. My point is that vernacular should have no bearing on what level of respect you get. At least not in this aspect. Some people believe a father is a leader and that daddies are simply donors while I was taught the opposite. The same goes for mothers versus mommies. It’s like a caramel/carmel or potato/potahto kind of thing. It seems to me that people as a whole should quit focusing on titles and focus on “Am I performing my due diligence as a parent? Whether I’m being called a ‘baby mama’ or ‘child’s mother,’ am I doing right by said child?” Nothing else should matter

Sincerely,

His Baby Mama

A Lesson in Vernacular

Hi guys..

I gotta get something off of my chest because the more this occurs, the more annoyed I get. Here’s the thing I am educated, I am Black, and I am a single mother of two babies. I have to say that I get so tired of people splitting hairs over what I decide to call myself because of the negative connotations that surround whichever title: Baby’s, kid’s, or child’s mother. When you get down to it, I am all of the above. Just because Some people hop around, smack their lips, and drop the letter s when they say “baby mother” (which is erroneous in a grammatical sense alone) doesn’t make it a ghetto term. As I stated earlier, I happen to be Black as well and we know the negative connotations surrounding that title. Does that make me any less Black? Absolutely not. I define who I am and what the title means anytime I interact with someone.

This whole baby daddy/ baby momma high horse thing is getting crazy. To say I’m being disrespected or disrespecting myself for saying I’m his babies’ mom….why? He & I never married and while we were in a relationship at one point, we aren’t now. I don’t say “he’s my baby daddy” because it’s improper English but I will say that he’s my babies’ daddy/father because, well…who else would he be? Him being a parent to my children separates him from the rest of my exes. My vernacular doesn’t include the terms baby momma and baby daddy unless I’m being sardonic however, if it did it wouldn’t be disrespectful or degrading because it’s a fact.

What it boils down to, correct me if I’m wrong, is a grammatical error. Would I have rather been his wife than just the bearer of his children, absolutely. I’d also prefer being a wife over a wifey but that’s a whole different ball game. My point is that vernacular should have no bearing on what level of respect you get. At least not in this aspect. Some people believe a father is a leader and that daddies are simply donors while I was taught the opposite. The same goes for mothers versus mommies. It’s like a caramel/carmel or potato/potahto kind of thing. It seems to me that people as a whole should quit focusing on titles and focus on “Am I performing my due diligence as a parent? Whether I’m being called a ‘baby mama’ or ‘child’s mother,’ am I doing right by said child?” Nothing else should matter

Sincerely,

His Baby Mama