“Oh my gosh, your baby is so cute!”
“Thank you! I wish I could lock myself in a closet and cry.”
Prenatal and Postpartum Depression and Anxiety are so real and so absolutely gut-wrenching, but even now they’re rarely talked about. It was something no one ever prepared me for, warned me about, or mentioned to me in any kind of real way.
Read MoreThe first time I experienced a deep fear of him was when he spilled red wine on a brand new white down comforter, I reacted, and he snapped. The hulk-like transition happened so quickly that all I remember is running to the bathroom, locking the door behind me, and hiding in the bathtub, gripping my knees close to my chest, crying, and praying. He busted the door down in anger, saw me terrified, softened immediately, and offered to hold me. I let him.
That’s a one-time thing, I thought. And he felt awful. Besides, I was a strong, independent, vocal young woman. I would never put up with a man abusing me, verbally, or otherwise. I was the last girl who would be in that position…
A response to current events
Read MoreIt's 2020 and it’s not uncommon for a mother to watch her son become a hashtag because he's black
But the media won't mention that he was much more than that
Maybe that's why It's 2019 and it makes some uncomfortable that I am blacker than 12 AM during a waxing crescent moon
But God made me bright enough to illuminate rooms
It's 2019 and technically lynching was outlawed in 1968
But we only modernized the name
Though he didn't hang
Systemic lynching is still the same…
Read More…Those who have never had a panic attack find it hard to understand, and those who have had one find it hard to ever forget. You can’t breathe, you can’t speak, and the worst thing anyone can try to do is help. It’s over quickly, but scarily it can pop up again anytime. There’s no real prevention, and short of medicating myself to the point of numbness, there is no cure. For now, just leave me the fuck alone in this dark, cold room and let me put ice in my bra. I’ll be fine in about 20 minutes.
Read MoreI grew up in a household with a 6-foot tall, 200-pound, angry gorilla that took out his rage on myself, my mother, and my little brother. My dad has struggled with his mental health his entire life.
I know my upbringing is a big part of the reason I have anxiety. I know that genetics do their fair share too.
I’m anxious about everything, but especially around being perfect in every aspect of my life and in how I show up for others. When I was little, if everything wasn’t just right, the outcome wasn’t pretty. Anxiety was a driving force that helped me avoid bad outcomes, or so I thought. The more anxious I was, the harder I worked towards perfectionism, so I had less to fear. It’s irrational thinking, and I know that now.
Anxiety isn’t protecting me.
Read MoreI am currently sitting on my bed. A glass of wine sitting beside me and I hear the noises of an awesome husband and excited little one filing up each room of our house.
As I sit here, I think of Frida. How she paints. How her vibrant colors merge together so effortlessly. Nothing is forced. Her self-portraits are honest portrayals of how she feels. Every brush stroke has meaning.
She has an honesty about herself and she allows herself to… feel…
Read More…This is also what spirals my brain into a spaghetti-like mess, with every noodle touching the other and when you move one, the whole plate moves. Completing a task is never just completing a task, that task is a domino in a long line of perfectly set up dominos. One wrong move and the very worst thing could happen. They all fall…With a brain swirling around and around like spaghetti on a fork, slipping and sliding, I get overwhelmed, often. Throughout my life, the dominos falling, the things I’ve built have crashed and burned, and these circumstances have triggered this feeling of overwhelm to the point of complete burnout, utter panic, sitting in the floor of the shower with the water beating on my head as I count and try to breathe. I feel like I am drowning, like I am gasping for air. The walls are closing in, and I am anchored to the bottom of a deep, dark, pool.
Read MoreAnonymous Contributor
MAY: Mental Health
Standing in the Eye A life surrounded by the storm of mental illness. I explained once to my counselor how my aunt died when I was young. That she’d taken her own life and it was the first - but not the last - time suicide touched our family. For me, this seemed the beginning of my story…
Read MoreOne day back in October 2017, I was scrolling through Facebook (procrastinating) and came across a TEDTalk video of a person named Jessica McCabe on “What it’s really like to live with ADHD.” My friend had shared it, commenting that she herself has ADHD and she wants people to understand it better, beyond its stereotypes. I decided to watch out of curiosity.
McCabe described what her life was like from childhood all the way up to present day, at 34 years old. Her story included getting diagnosed with ADHD as a child. I didn’t really see many similarities between her and myself beyond being a smart kid with lots of potential that ended up having no idea what she was doing with her life at 32. I was 31 at the time, and while I had an idea of what I wanted to do with my life, I’d been stuck at the idea stage for YEARS with no real plan. I’d barely moved the needle on it…
Read MoreI’m exhausted and I’m not “KILLIN IT.” Most days it actually feels more like I’m killing myself burning the candle at both ends. I’ve definitely always been a high-achiever, studying all hours of the night, aiming for high GPA’s and praise. I embroidered my self-portrait in art school in college, yup - that’s right…embroidered it. I think I stayed awake for 72 hours trying to finish my eyeball before the project was due, shaking from all of the energy drinks, I barely got words out to explain my artistic vision and reasoning for picking something so meticulous….
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