it’s 8:22 am. there’s a chill in the air. I’ve been awake since 5 something. this is the second day in a row wherein i’ve been awakened hours before my alarm. in a few minutes, my partner’s youngest son will come downstairs and set up his laptop so he can do his daily virtual learning assignments. at some point after this sentence, i’ll go in the kitchen and make myself a cup of coffee. this is a brain dump, more for me than you, but feel free to keep reading if you want.
i have to be honest here. i’m supposed to say that this year has been a blessing. that i’ve learned, healed, and grown as a person. those things are true. i’m not supposed to point out the bad things. or am i? one thing i love and hate about the world right now, in the age of social media, is this culture of hyperpositivity. it’s a delusion wrapped in color coordinated fuckery. and i’m tired. can we talk?
before now, if i was having a bad day, i could just have my bad day. my coffee could be unusually bitter, my eggs inadvertently over or undercooked, my toast burnt. i could be late or have on the wrong shoes or be inappropriately dressed for the weather. i could have just enough gas in my car to get to the gas station only to find i’d left my wallet on the kitchen counter or under my bed. i could wallow in that bad day until i returned home, ate dinner, and went to bed to wind down before falling into a deep, restful, snore filled slumber. that’s not the case now.
this is my fault, if fault can be assigned here. i read too many self help books. listened to too many motivational speakers and ted talks. i acquired 2 spiritual coaches and a therapist. i started facing my problems. i sought out motivational quotes and memes. i brought the sunlight into that dark corner, saw all the ugly, and started cleaning it. the world outside was just the world outside. to me, what was happening in my own little bubble superseded it all. i lit the candles and held the crystals and said the affirmations and all that. i looked at life the way i wanted it to be and i saw what i wanted to see. it was kinda cute or whatever. and then 2020 came with all the “hold my beer” energy it could muster and brought the outside in.
more trauma to heal. okay. i don’t hate shadow work. more challenges. okay. i can handle a lot. more moments where the worst thing became the only thing. fuck. nothing i knew to do was working. and i felt like a failure because all the high vibe stuff said that i should be happy and that if i wasn’t something was wrong with me. because i create my reality. so i was intentionally or not, manifesting this reality that was so undesirable. fuck. why was something always the fuck wrong with me? why couldn’t i just think better thoughts? manifest a better reality? was i supposed to never think anything remotely “bad”? but i’m human, isn’t that part of this experience? it made me hypervigilant about my thoughts because i didn’t want to accidentally manifest more fuck shit. every time i thought something “bad” i immediately interrupted that thought. because that’s what i’m supposed to do right? stop those bad thoughts, don’t let them grow. don’t let them fester. think good things. feel the feels but don’t let them stay too long. how long is too long? what if i feel that way for hours? days? how long do i hold this crystal? how many times do i write this affirmation? how many candles do i light? matches or lighter to set myself ablaze when i can no longer deal?
this coffee slaps.
we’ve all seen the correlation with the year 2020 and the idea of 20/20 vision. 20/20 vision is something i’ve never had, so i think my annoyance with this year at this point is just fine. this year is supposed to teach us what’s important. we’re supposed to be learning to be honest with ourselves, to look at how we’ve been living and make concerted efforts at changing our lives; discarding those experiences, thoughts, habits, relationships, et cetera that no longer serve us. we’re supposed to be getting clear about what makes our soul happy and learning how interconnected we are. we’re supposed to come out of this year on a path toward wholeness, in harmony with our higher selves and each other and the earth and everything and lisa frank glitter unicorn cupcake vomit i’m exhausted.
there are a lot of fucked up things happening in the world, most of them having nothing to do with me, but i know they all do. making everything an exercise in the esoteric makes it worse. yes there are things happening in the heavenlies that impact what i’m experiencing. yes, my relationship with Spirit and my ancestors and my higher self is a thing that i think about and work on daily. does that mean i’m supposed to faceplant into a soft pillowy mound of optimism every day and breathe deep, choking on the residue of live laugh love? no. and for a very long time, i refused to acknowledge the full range of my feelings. as a Black southern woman, i was taught to minimize my self. always take up as little space as possible. there was no space for my feelings. i was taught that my feelings didn’t matter and that any emotion you showed was a sign of weakness. if people knew how you felt, they could take advantage of you. make you their bitch. i didn’t want to be anyone’s bitch. that shit was dumb.
so i don’t let people really see me happy or excited or sad or angry. i may show glimpses, but only i and my journal get the full monty. and i think that’s what’s got me caught up in this whirlwind.
in my mind, i see myself sitting in a straight back wooden chair, my body poised kinda like Rodin’s “Le Penseur” (the thinker) but with my right elbow on my right knee, looking around, as a whirlwind surrounds me. in it there’s fire, coffee grounds, chip bags, toilet paper rolls, bills, demon trolls in suits wearing those clip on tie/shirt combos i hate with high water pants, white tube socks and nondescript black dress shoes pointing and laughing at me, paint tubes. it stinks. like the worst fart you can imagine trying to hide behind your least favorite bath and body works fragrance. mine is warm vanilla sugar. it’s hot and cold. it’s dark and gloomy. you can’t see out but sometimes, if you sit still long enough, you can see your hand in front of your face just long enough to facepalm. whenever i feel it abating, just a smidge, something else comes. watch the video. it’s funny and appropriate.
everything has hit different this year. births, deaths, celebrations, bills. all the regular shit is as irregular as pants at a factory outlet super sale. we are all tense and tired and scared. we haven’t taken full stock of how this thing, this year has impacted our lives. we really can’t because it’s not over, so we don’t fucking know how deep this hole goes. hell, we still have a highly contentious election to survive, and a holiday season unlike any i’ve ever experienced. so we have no real idea how much “worse” things can get. but we’ve taken each hit and figured out how best to adapt in real time so we can keep going. and by we i mostly mean me because i don’t know your life. i haven’t been completely honest with myself about my feelings and that has created the most violent part of this whirlwind. i haven’t spoken about my despair, or my confusion, or my frustration. i haven’t talked at all about how sad all this makes me. how alone i feel. how angry i am. i haven’t uttered enough words about how afraid i am. and i don’t know many people who have. partly because instead of looking at those things, i avoid them, choosing instead to listen to a motivational audiobook, or another ted talk about why the way i think is wrong and how to hack my emotions and thoughts so that i can win.
sometimes the thought crosses my mind that if i just surrender to these feelings i can manage them. when my grandmother died, i wouldn’t allow myself to cry until i was absolutely alone and unencumbered. i knew that once i started, i wouldn’t be able to stop until i was completely done. that’s how it is. i hold it back until i burst. so i’m scared to let these feelings happen because i don’t really want to know what this grief looks like. but i also want to know what’s on the other side of it. because this chair is uncomfortable.
so here i sit, in this wtf whirlwind. trying not to give in to the siren song of an impending overwhelming depression, trying also to find balance between feeling my feelings and also attempting to be happy and find joy in whatever small way i can. working on gratitude. trying my level best not to beat myself up with my every thought. wondering if all this shit is worth it, or if i should just let the thing absorb me.
