Tag: anxiety

The What If Carousel?

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Ladies, do you ever find yourself laying down, minding your own business, and suddenly there’s a pain that shoots right through your boob? In that moment you think “oh god this is it! My time has come! I see the light!”

I’m not here to talk about random titty pain. In that moment, even if just for those few seconds, I hop onto the “what if” carousel. What if it’s breast cancer? What if I’m having a heart attack? What if this is something serious? What if I go to the doctor and they don’t take me serious? What if I die because the physician is racist and didn’t think I deserved the correct test? What if I die right now and when people find my body they find my vibrator next to me instead of a bible?

All jokes aside the What If Carousel is a scary place and for those with anxiety the ride is longer and much harder to hope off of. I find myself settling onto my horse, holding onto my pole, going in circles, completely ignoring all the signs saying I’ve exceeded the expected ride time.

My days are filled with thinking of possible negative outcomes, ignoring very possible positive outcomes, and these days often I become void of any action at all because of it. Just imagine the viciousness of the What If Carousel of someone with agoraphobia? It breaks my heart to even fathom.

What if my candles aren’t good quality? What if I don’t pass this exam? What if I can’t pay rent next month? What if I’m deathly ill and unaware? What if my friends think I’m super annoying and just put up with me? What if I’ll be alone forever? What if I’ll always be reaching for success but never grab it? What if Jehovahs Witnesses are right and I’m gonna die forever? What if I’m the only one that thinks what I write is worth reading?

Lately I’ve been riding on my own carousel moreso than normal. I really want to get off and get shit done.

These questions or similar ones occupy my mind often. The other day I had to scrape up some weed (too poor to buy some because ya know priorities and shit). My carousel had started moving waaaay too fast. It wasn’t a fun ride. Scary is what it was.

I sat on the edge of my tub with the shower running, paying no mind to the water covering the floor, and exhaled through a straw. (A breathing technique I’ve learned that has carried me through many panic attacks) Eventually I felt Mary Janes presence, took my shower, ate the food I had previously lost all appetite for, and went to sleep.

When I woke up you know what I said? My first thought the next morning was “what if I always need Mary Jane to save me?” And then I started my carousel up for the day………

February 1: Things Unsaid

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So for this prompt I would like to write a few letters to my immediate family. I’ve always felt like letters are a way to say things to someone that the tongue doesn’t allow to be set free.

To my oldest sister Kattie,

I am sorry. I am sorry that you lost your father and your mother and could not verbally express your sorrow. I’m sorry that I didn’t feel like I could handle taking care of you by myself at 20 years old after mom died. I’m sorry for all the mistakes I may have made during the months that I tried. I’m sorry your autism causes you to view familiarity and routine as comforts and those comforts were taken away from you. I’m sorry I don’t come see you as much to check on you and that I make an excuse because I know you’re being well taken care of. I am sorry I’m not a better little sister.

To my second oldest sister Lisa,

I want to know why? Why I can’t see my niece, why you haven’t called or text me in years, and why I had to find out you were pregnant via social media. I know why. Because Jehovah told you not to. So I guess I mean I want to know why the love you have for me isnt strong enough to push through that. I held your hand during many dark times and it’s insufferable to constantly realize that during my dark times you’re voluntarily staying away. It hurts deeply and you plan on continuing on with your life not letting that pain affect you. I wouldn’t do that to you if the roles were reversed and let’s not forget that at one point they were. I still love you with all of my heart…..even if you only love me from outside of the cage you have sentenced me to.

To my third oldest sister Alex,

Alex fighting! I miss how we used to be when mom was alive, playing video games in my room or you forcing me to watch a Korean drama that shortly thereafter I’d become obsessed with. Though I don’t miss those times as deeply because intertwined in those memories are memories of my toxicity towards you and your being. Your nature differs so much from mine in many ways and my lack of understanding for such a difference but yet annoyance of it during our younger years sickens me. You still piss me off just as much but if I had realized how much I need and love you perhaps I wouldn’t have been so mean. I’m sorry for the role I played in certain past traumas you hold and hope that before I leave this earth I can prove to you how much I love you.

To my fourth oldest sister Latrice,

Yes I have you blocked on Facebook. I find it hard to deal with how your mental disorders manifest and how they make me feel. I often think of our biological mother and traits we may share from her. Or our dads, whoever they may be, and how different they may have been. I remember being bonded together simply in the fact that we shared DNA and the other sisters couldn’t say that. Hell, I have yet to be able to say that to anyone in my life but you. The truth was there than and it’s here now: You scare me. I constantly fear your mental instability is one of the shared traits and mine has just yet to manifest as fiercely. I wish you were just a tad more mentally stable. I wish you could come visit and we could go for coffee and I come play with your children. I wish I didn’t fear for their wellbeing when with you and I wish I didn’t fear for yours. I pray that the universe or whoever is in control of our lives watches over you in ways that I can’t.

To my fifth oldest sister Jasmine,

Bitch I fucking adore you and I cannot stand your trifling ass! Hahaha. The relationship I have with you is the most fierce and complex than the other sisters simply because we are connected so strongly but the deep love for you all is there all around. We are the babies of the McClendone clan but the crazy ones as well. The ones cracking jokes at family reunions and getting in trouble for giggling instead of bowing our heads during prayer. The first person who taught me about sex and that it wouldn’t be the end of the world if I decided to put my mouth on a mans appendage. The first person I called whenever I was in trouble and needed a way out without getting caught by momma. I want to tell you that you underestimate yourself and there’s a part of our bond I believe that solely relies on me trying to change that. We argue more than anyone in the family but I also believe it’s because we become so frustrated when the other is not doing what we know they should and could be. I’ve always thought your promiscuity stemmed from lack of self love and the search to find it in others. I wish more for you. You make the stupidest decisions sometimes but I’ve learned not to get so angry because you are always the first person to walk me through my own.

To my mother,

I am mad at you. Livid. Furious. YOU LEFT ME HERE! You left me here to deal with life without you and I wasn’t prepared. I’m having such a hard time without you and you should be here. PERIOD. I’m angry at you for dying and I’m angry at myself for being angry at you. As if you had a damn choice. As if you didn’t fight hard for me everyday. But I was your baby. I AM YOUR BABYCAKES! Please come back to me. Even if just for a little while. I promise not to be so angry with you anymore. I’m so sad without you it is sometimes physically unbearable. My existence is in constant turmoil without you mommy, I miss you and I’m just simply not ok without you and never will be. Come back to me. Please

Black and Badass

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I searched Facebook tonight for events happening in my area and what I stumbled upon made me realize I might have bigger issues than what to do on a Friday night.

BlackGirlChatt’s 1st Annual: The Launch Party. A night of drinks and conversations with some motivated and determined black women sounds right up my alley.

I am determined to make 2020 matter. These past few years I have been simply trying not to drown and I think 2020 is the year I start swimming (even if I have to start off with an enthusiastic doggy paddle).

My excitement grew as I explored the event page. Cocktail attire meant I finally would have a reason to attempt to beat my face, which I am sure would be only slightly successful. Drinks would be available and that is always a plus in my book.

Though I adore the friends I have made here in Chattanooga, I cannot dismiss the fact that throwing some much needed melanin into my circle of friends would definitely make me happy. It’s kind of like how no matter how many languages you may be fluent in, it will always feel good to have a conversation in your native tongue.

What would I know though? I barely made it out of Spanish 4 alive. Dios mio!

As I clicked on what the event was geared towards and who were some of the figures attending, my desire to attend waned.

Scared isn’t the word. Intimidated is more like it. I slowly started to convince myself I would not belong.

Am I a black girl? Yea. Do I want to chat? If you met me you know I never shutup. But am I doing absolutely anything where I would be able to bring something of value to the conversation?

No.

I don’t have a business. No grand innovative idea to bring the community closer together. No works to share or services to offer. No advice to give.

I realize this event is to build connections not just have fun and I simultaneously realize I lack any outlets for someone to plug into.

Anxiety, my old friend, how are you? Staying long?

On the flip side, I have been telling myself that perhaps this is where I start in order to gain these things. Perhaps I need to surround myself with the kind of people who are already doing great things so I can follow in their foot steps and eventually pave my own way.

I want to hear how people got their ideas/goals to become tangible sources of income. I want to talk about my ideas, though they seem small and insignificant at times.

The reason why my goals usually begin and end on paper is because I am too scared that I am not enough to carry them out. Just like I am too scared that I am not enough to converse and mingle with these women tonight.

Fear of inadequacy is a bitch and if I decide to fight her tonight and attend this party I promise to let you know how it goes! I think it is time for me to not only be black but black AND a badass!

-Mac

Dropping The Ball

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Happy August! Pushing good vibes and positive energy to all of my readers as we begin a new month. I love the beginning of the month because I always view it as a fresh start and no matter how much I thought I couldn’t handle living the month before I still managed to survive. So I am actually really happy to see August arrive because whew chile, the ghetto!

The month of July was a motherfucking shit show guys. From losing prized possessions to crying in the freezer at work next to potatoes and hot sauce. Yesterday, I watched as my friend lit a torch to her wax rig and handed it to me so I could inhale slowly as I swirled the hot pipe around in the sticky substance. As I exhaled slowly, watching the smoke dance in between us, I let out a sigh of relief. It was the first of the month and we made a pact to simply do better, be better. As I got ready for lunch, she artistically drew up my budget for me down to each day of the month. I felt like finally I was in the right mindset to get back on track.

budget saving money GIF

With everything that happened in July I felt so disappointed in myself. The pity party was in full effect. I constantly found myself reminding myself that things were not going at all how I envisioned they would be going at this time in my life.

When I spoke with close friends and family about what I was going through and the feelings of guilt and failure I was overwhelmed they all said pretty much the same thing:

Shit happens Brit. It’s life. Life goes on. Life is full of lessons. Some lessons require a bit of pain. Learn from it and move forward.”-

Big Sis Jazz
hot mess hug GIF by OWN: Oprah Winfrey Network

It still took some convincing on my end. I prided myself for quite some time, especially after losing my mom, on being responsible even through the hardest situations. I genuinely just felt like I dropped the ball, and I did, but the ball was heavy to begin with and I had to remind myself that all I had to do was pick it back up.

It’s August 2, 2019 and dammit I am picking that ball back up. Is it still heavy? Hell yea, maybe even more so than before! I am a strong ass bitch though and I’ve got this. I need to incorporate positive affirmations into my self speech because if I tell myself I can’t do it then I never will. (I can be pretty damn convincing.)

I am excited to see what I do with this month and what I can accomplish. I am rooting for Mac and I am rooting for any of my readers that need to pick up that ball, as heavy as it might be. You can do this!.