Tag Archives: black mental health

Poetry

Practice (An Auto Ethnographical Exercise)

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of sexual assault and r*pe

Some content was supposed to be up already, but I made a mistake and the article basically did not save properly. As I write that article again, I thought I would post some past writings that I have done. One of my assignments in my last semester of undergrad consisted of writing an auto ethnography. An auto ethnography is a research method where they utilize personal experiences to describe and interpret cultural texts, feelings, emotions, practices, beliefs, and so on. Since this class was a theatre class, our task was to write a two page interaction with someone that we knew whether it was personally or not. One person chose AOC, another chose Cleopatra, and another chose an old friend that she hadn’t talked to in a while. A majority of the class picked people that they admired; people who inspired them to pursue the career that they are studying currently and people who encourage them to go follow their dreams, goals, and ambitions. I chose Eldridge Cleaver. I despise Eldridge Cleaver with a deep passion; with a fire that would make Hell bow down in submission. With little knowledge, this man might be seen as a progressive leader of the Black Panther Party, but in all honesty, he was a vile, acrimonious sociopath who resorted to unspeakable tactics in the name of equality. In his 1968 book, Soul On Ice, he details one of his strategies on how to fight against racism, white supremacy, and oppression. I was able to read a snippet of his book, and the utter disgust that overcame by body is one that I can’t quite find the words to describe yet. This man…if you want to call him that, was an avid rapist. He viewed rape as a pivotal tool when getting back at the white man and those who were victims under their power. In his book, he is quoted saying, “rape was an insurrectionary act. It delighted me that I was defying and trampling upon the white man’s law, upon his system of values, and that I was defiling his women.” He first started with black women, why? Because he said they were practice. Practice…like studying for a midterm exam. Practice…like perfecting your jump shot. Practice…these women were nothing to him. He was finally arrested for assault in 1958. During this time is when he started following Malcolm X. In his book, he calls himself a rapist. “I’m perfectly aware that I’m in prison, that I’m a Negro, that I’ve been a rapist, and that I have a Higher Uneducation.” (Cleaver) The amount of women that he attacked is unknown at this time, and probably will never be revealed. I cry for those women, as I know so many women who have been hurt in this way…I am one of those women myself. The fact that this man was a mouthpiece for the Black Panther Party is appalling. This repulsed me immensely, but I couldn’t help but think about his victims, especially those that share the same race as me. You see this monster years later fighting for justice, but he did that horrible thing to you? That’s where I got the inspiration to write my scene with him as the target. I wrote as if I was one of his victims, seeing him for the first time since my attack and since he started preaching the teachings of Malcolm X. I’ve learned so many things about our past black activists, abolitionists, and leaders…maybe that will be a post for another time? Without further ado, this is my auto ethnography title Practice.

PS…forgive me if the historical accuracy is skewed. Also, I want to state that I am not making light of the cruel and brutal acts that Eldridge Cleaver enacted. Thank you.

Practice

No…that isn’t who I think it is. He found me…how? Is he even looking for me? Get yourself together girl, he doesn’t care about you that much…he probably doesn’t remember your name. What would he want with me…again? You’re going to spend your whole life on the run buddy…not just from the pigs, but from your sanity; the so-called Messiah that lets us live another day. Lord knows you can never repent enough for what you’ve done, so don’t start now. As many times as I’ve cried and begged the God I prayed to in my youth; in Sunday’s best and pearl white doll socks, he ignores my pain…he won’t show any mercy to you..sick son of a ..no, stop it. In a way, I feel bad for you; I know…I know what it feels like to be on the run…but how can you run from yourself? That is him…oh my God…

*tears begin to well up in my eyes and my hands close into fists. I’m frozen as if the soles of my feet have cemented into the pavement* 

This man has had power over you for years, do you even know who you are anymore? You used to be Dara McGee, and now all you’re considered is one of his victims…is that who you want to be remembered as? IS THAT YOUR IDENTITY FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE? Confront him, now. Do it…do it for you. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t care; your words may not shift anything in that cold and desolate mind of his, but you need to be free. Free yourself…this is not the way to live your life. 

*I’m hesitant, but my body relaxes, the same way it did when I realized that I couldn’t stop him from what he did to me. The cement around my feet are no more as my tip toes toward him become steps, and then my steps become strolls, and then my strolls become strides. I’m done.* 

Some book you wrote, huh Eldridge? You call yourself an author now? 

*he whirls around so gracefully, almost like a ballerina. He doesn’t remember who I am. How many of us were there?* 

You don’t remember me, do you? I was one of your firsts. I was your so-called revolution…some poor black girl living on the other side of the tracks. I was nothing to you, but you lived there too…what does that say about you? We are the same flowers growing from the same flower pot, and you plucked my petals and cut my stem. I may not be a man, but I understand your pain…I bear the same flesh as you. When white people look at me, they cross the street in my path, they spit at me, they deem me as an abomination…I feel that pain too. I stood in solidarity with you…all my brethren, and to have one of my own do something like that to me…why aren’t you saying anything? Do you not feel bad about your actions? Insurrectionary act…kiss my ass. That was diabolical, sociopathic, psychopathic…crazy, just crazy. I read the book Eldridge, and you referred to me…my sisters…we were targets…no, what did you say in your book? Practice. Practice for the main target. Look here, those girls did not deserve what they got; as much as they probably hated us already, they did not deserve to be taken advantage of. No matter who you are; what walk of life you’ve trekked and where you call home, you do not deserve what happened to me; I wouldn’t wish it on the lowest, vilest creature alive. Hmm, so I guess that means I wouldn’t wish it on you I suppose. They think you are so brilliant Eldridge; they drank your words like gin….they are intoxicated. You really are a natural orator, I’ll give you that. I can see why the black community idolizes you, especially wayward, Fatherless black young men…how I fear for the young girls they’ll try to pursue. The way you see the world is frightening, but alas, we live in a frightening reality. You are right…no don’t walk away from me! You’re going to stand here and remember because I can never forget; you are going to listen. You are right about the world being unfair to our people, but why did you have to go along and be unfair with it? It’s already hard enough being a black woman. We are the Black Panther Party; we are the backbone of this organization; some of y’all just pick up the bullhorn when need be. How can you disrespect those who understand your plight the most? How can you see me as disposable? We gave birth to you; spent nine months growing you inside our womb, altering our bodies to make sure you make it here alright…some of us risking our lives. I’m afraid to ever share my body with another; giving life and creating it. Why? Just why!? You ruined my life, and the saddest thing is…you don’t care. Somehow, in that convoluted brain of yours, you think these actions were some radical protest…IS THIS WHAT YOU ARE TEACHING!? Are you proud of this? *laughs uncomfortably* This is your legacy now. Black Panther Party leader, visionary, radicalist…r–ist. I wish I could see you as all those great things others see you as, but I can’t, and you’ve ruined it for me and one day everybody else will see. I stand before my brothers in awe of the stories they bestow, only to think, have they done what Eldridge has done? You felt resentment over how white men used black women, huh? And you did the very same thing that they did to us, now tell me, how does that make sense? Do you want to dismantle racism and white supremacy? Do you really?  Do you want to be free from the white man? Or do you want to be just like him? What revenge did you need to get on me? What have I ever done to you? If that was my lot in life; a pin cushion for the black revolution, the Lord didn’t need to give that burden to me. Imagine how it feels to know that no one, not even the black man himself, loves us black women? NO ONE! I am hollow inside; my heart, my mind…what good is it to use now!?  Answer me that, Eldrige, what good is it? Nothing? The one thing I do have left is my voice, and you can’t match it? Answer me!…you are a coward, you know that!?  I don’t care what you’re doing for the betterment of black folk…YOU.ARE.A.COWARD! I pray people see you for who you are and everyone loses all the respect they ever had for you. You have to be one sick twisted mother f–ker if you think brutalizing me and other black women…women in general, is the best way of attaining revenge. There is nothing deeper to it; no symbolism, no bigger picture…you are deranged. Whether you have changed from your ways or not, that will always be embedded in your psyche. It kills me inside to know that I can’t do anything but cry; scream…pray that the Lord will end my suffering and lift the weights that crush my shoulders every single f–king day. I was just prey to you…and over the years, I’ve come to the conclusion why I was your target. It wasn’t the mid thigh length dress, or the way my hair was pulled back, showing off my cheekbone I inherited from my Mother’s side. It wasn’t any of that..mmm mmm. I know why you chose me…because you knew if you were going to r–e me…you’d get away with it. I can see that I have done nothing for you; this was probably a waste of your time, so I’ll go. Goodbye Mr. Cleaver…may God have mercy on your soul, well, if there still is one somewhere in there.

Sources:

Cleaver, Eldridge. 1968. Soul on Ice. Print 1999.

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Journaling

You Made It…

Can you think back to December 31st, 2018? What were you praying and manifesting would happen in the year to come? I knew 2019 was going to be a culmination of growth and reflection. Well, I feel every year consists of those two things, but I don’t know…2019 was different. Think about it, 2019 is the last year of the decade; this was the year of completion. 2019 made us uncomfortable; it made us question how we treat people, our past decisions, and the ways in which we have let other’s interact with us. We were kind of lost going into this year. I can speak for myself when I say that 2019 was my wake up call. January 1st got right in my face and said “get it together!” 2019 dragged me by my heels and made me face reality. It was scary, it was harsh, but it was needed. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different response, and I was a lunatic. 2019 made me question who I was as a person and who I wanted to be. It made me question the energy I allowed to infiltrate my space, but with that being said…it made me ask myself why I was attracting this type of energy?

I spoke a lot to my younger self, and it was good to see her again. She was around the age of seven or eight. She had a braid on each side of her head with one in the back, and pink barrettes clipped to her scalp. She was chubby and cute, two things that she didn’t think could coexist with each other. She wanted someone to tell her that she was worthy. She wanted to be told that she was beautiful; that she was smart, talented, and intelligent. She wanted to be told that she didn’t need to lose thirty pounds in order to look good. She wanted to be told that her physical flaws aren’t flaws at all; they’re little idiosyncrasies that deserved to be celebrated. At the age of 21, I was glad that I was able to give that to her.

In 2019, I was able to confront a lot of things in my life that used to poke and prod at my self esteem. I highlighted the things that I love about myself, as well as the things I want to change within. I was able to forgive myself and others for the past, and leave those memories there. I have become more content with being alone and spending time with my thoughts. I am learning that I am my own soulmate. Myself and I were courting in 2019, and now we are in a relationship. When deeply in love with yourself, you move differently. I learned that everything is not a competition; just because I failed does not make me a failure. What’s meant for me will be for me, and I should speak positively over my life because it is precious. The things that I cannot control I will not give energy to, and I will be more careful with the things I can change.

I am so excited for 2020. I got a glimpse of what could come if I continue down the right path. I haven’t felt this hopeful in a long time. I feel confident in myself, and when the bouts of insecurity come, I know what to do to remind myself of my worth. I’m being more selfish this year. This new decade I pray will be the new emergence of the person I want to be. I will be a better woman, a better sister, daughter, granddaughter, friend, writer, student, artist…all the things that I consider myself, I will be better. I pray for a cleansing of the heart, mind, and soul. To anyone reading this, I pray that you tap into that potential that you know is there, and that you too become the best version of yourself.

Happy New Year

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Facts and Opinions

Summer Walker’s Social Anxiety

In August 2019, singer/songwriter Summer Walker, announced that she was going on tour. Me, a relatively big fan, freaked out over this news. Now, I can’t say that I knew about Summer before “Girls Need Love Too” hit the radio waves, but if you look at my Apple Music, I guarantee Summer Walker is always an artist that I have recently been listening to. I think I’ve listen to her latest album Over It a million times…no, a million and two times. When I first heard the song, I was greeted with sultry and soulful tones; her voice reminds me of old school rhythm and blues. I was sold. Since then, me, and many other music lovers, have followed Summer’s career, and when she announced that she was going on tour, I immediately tried to gather my coins together and go see my girl sing “Playing Games” in person. The name of the tour, however, was a little interesting. The First and Last Tour…well, it’s pretty self explanatory. It sort of reminded me of The Eagles Hell Freezes Over Tour. After fourteen years, the band came together after they claimed that they would perform together…when hell freezes over. So I was assuming that by her title, this would most likely be the only tour that she will have for a while. Maybe she doesn’t like touring. Michael Jackson, although he did it, he hated it. Maybe she just thought it was tiring. Touring is exhausting, but it isn’t just physically exhausting for Summer, psychologically, it takes a toll on her.

During Summer Walker’s Tiny Desk Concert debut, people noticed that Summer didn’t seem to be acting “like herself.” She seemed nervous and she looked annoyed; singing stiffly into the microphone placed in front of her. To me, she looked tired, but her voice overpowered that. You can’t deny that her voice is three steps towards angelic, but she did look uncomfortable. I wasn’t the only one to notice this. There were so many news publications, people on Instagram, Twitter, and Instagram, and YouTube talking about how Summer Walker didn’t want to be there and how ungrateful she was acting, when it was actually a much deeper underlying condition.

 

 

Summer Walker has spoken out a numerous amount of times about her social anxiety. Social anxiety is the fear of situations where a person has to interact with others. Social phobia is the third largest mental health care problem in the world. Social anxiety effects around 7 percent of the population. This condition is chronic so it can’t just go away, however, there are definitely ways to manage it; medication, meditation, therapy, and etc. A lot of the time, people may confuse social anxiety with shyness or aloofness, but many people who have social anxiety are very friendly, open, and relatively happy people, they just can’t act that way freely due to their disorder. Once I learned about Summer’s dilemma, I could see some symptoms manifest. In a few of the videos that I’ve seen from her tour, you can see Summer standing there almost like a deer in headlights or sitting down very still. Even if you didn’t have social anxiety, picturing what’s going on through her eyes sounds a tad bit terrifying to me. You’re standing in front of a crowd of thousands; people yelling and screaming at you. There are bright flashing lights around, the music booming through the surrounding speakers and you can feel the vibrations of the bass through your feet and up your body. Wouldn’t that trigger some nerves? I get nervous when I go to arcades for that very reason. People are running around, people are loud; talking over each other, pushing, and shoving. It’s typically dark, and there are bright flashing lights from the games that are around. I can empathize with Summer, although my anxiousness is not as severe as hers is.

Recently, Summer Walker has cancelled most of her remaining tour dates due to her social anxiety, and it has a lot of people talking. For those who do not have anxiety, it may be difficult to understand. Many people on the internet are claiming that Summer is acting and that her social anxiety is not that bad; exaggerating her condition for…ugh I hate this word…clout. I didn’t know Summer was a stripper prior to singing, and that’s a big reason as to why people are claiming that she is lying. I do not personally know Summer (I wish I did though); I cannot read her mind, but it is kind of disheartening that so many people are shaming Summer. It’s not the weirdest thing in the world to be a person in that type of industry and have an anxiety disorder. Just think about how many people know her and how popular she is and how many instances she is confronted with having to surround herself with people now; the anxiety factor might have gone up a notch. After accepting her award at the Soul Train Music Awards, the topic of discussion came up once again with people dragging Summer through the mud. Summer has come out defending herself. In an Instagram post, she says…

 

https://www.instagram.com/p/B5BMwslgkIa/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

One of the reasons I started this blog is to shed some light on mental health in the black community…and this kind of solidifies how desperately we as a community need to educate ourselves. Summer is stating some good points with her Instagram caption. Depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia and all of the mental health disorders that are in between can affect anyone…that’s right…even you! And it will really hinder a person if they show signs of something, and they are told to ignore those signs; thinking that they will go away or that it can just be suppressed. It seems like we never take black people seriously; especially black women. If we have anxiety or exhibit any emotion that isn’t pure joy and happiness, we are seen as bitches or God forbid angry. We are told that we are faking it. And what’s sad is that it’s other black people that are trying to regress the black mental health discussion. A lot of it has to do with just not knowing and being ignorant to the fact, but there are literally people out there that think that black people just don’t suffer from mental health conditions. I will say, when you have a condition, it is your responsibility to get the help that you need if you are of legal age. My anxiety is…anxiety. I used to feel like someone else was controlling me when I would get into these little mental fits; sometimes I still do. I’ll give myself some credit; I am at a much better place mentally. That came with a lot of self reflection, hard work, more reflection, getting out of my comfort zone, more reflection, a great support system…did I say reflection? If you have done the same and can see some progress, no matter how little, you should pat yourself on the back. Seriously, I hope you’re doing it right now. I think with Summer Walker speaking more candidly about her condition, she can not only start a discussion about anxiety and other mental health conditions in the black community but she can set limits for what she can and cannot do, as well as pinpoint certain methods of healing that may work for herself.

I feel like when people are famous, their fans expect them to be somewhat superhuman. What we forget is that they too are human beings as well. They can get social anxiety; they aren’t immune to these things. There are so many people who look at their friends and family member’s social anxiety, depression, panic disorders, and so on and don’t see it for what it is. They tell them to get over it or to suck it up; not knowing that what they are doing is more harmful than helpful. Anxiety isn’t a little bout of nervousness, it can really affect a person and what they deem to be reality. Instead of pointing fingers and stating that other people’s (emphasis on other people’s) mental health conditions are exaggerated or fake, maybe we can educate ourselves a little better on what some of our peers may be going through. Okay? Thanks.

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Facts and Opinions

Am I Next?: How many more will go through what Uyinene went through?

TRIGGER WARNING:

I’ve been logged out of social media for a little bit so I was a little out of the loop on some things that have happened recently. Going through the normal bar bathroom selfies, inspirational quotes, and random rants, one story made me furious. It made me grow angry with each word that I read. I’m tired. I’m tired of seeing stories like this. I’m tired of slowly being desensitized by these stories because they happen so often. I’m tired of being fearful for the people that I know. I’m tired of begging my friends to put their locations on so I can check and make sure they’re where they are supposed to be going. I’m tired of carrying around mace because I don’t know if some lunatic is going to randomly feel enticed to tackle me to the ground and assault me. I had thought of carrying around a taser, but they aren’t legal in Illinois. I do plan to carry a pocket knife with me at some point. I shouldn’t have to do that! No one should have to do that! I should be able to get to my destination safely with no interference. Anyways, I could get stuck on this topic for days, but I’m going to get on to the point of this article.

Uyinene Mrwetyana. Uyinene; a South African name meaning gift of God. Reading about her I got a chance to get a glimpse of her personality. She seemed intelligent, warm, and widely loved. Her skin was so radiant and that smile…her smile was captivating. She was just nineteen years old, making strides and efforts towards living her dream. She attended the University of Cape Town. She was a film student. Who knows, we could’ve seen one of her films on the big screen one day. Well, that won’t happen. We may never get to see her creativity in motion. We may never get to see her artistry. Uyinene Mrwetyana was raped and killed by being hit in the head with a scale by 42 year old Luyanda Botha (allegedly) inside a post office. She went there to get a package, and the man told her to come back later. She was said to be missing August 30th. That’s when he brutally attacked her. I was scrolling through her Instagram and nearly cried. She was beautiful…my God she was so beautiful. The man’s trial is set for November 5th according to The South African. He seemed to have no remorse in regards to what he did. I really hope he rots in prison.

The hashtag #AmINextProtest has been trending. People carry signs through the streets of South Africa pleading with people to stop killing their peers and loved ones. South Africa’s president, Cyril Ramaphosa, addressed the nation Thursday, admitting that there is an uproar of sexual violence against women. He proposed numerous ideas to try and combat this issue. Will these proposals be enough though? Words are just words…they are nothing without action.

Women in South Africa are at risk for being attacked. According to Al Jazeera, a woman is murdered every three hours. Rape is just as rampant. In a 1994 journal by S. Armstrong, it goes into how rape is the assertion of male power. Under apartheid, rape of white women was the only rape that mattered; they found black women rape to just be apart of the struggle. In the journal, it also states that one out of four women have been sexually assaulted before the age of fourteen. These numbers are on the rise…more and more women are going through this treachery.

Will it be me? Will I be the next one to die? Will a situation like this be my fateful demise? Will it be my best friend’s? My Mother’s? My aunt’s? My future daughter’s? I couldn’t fathom sitting at home waiting for my baby girl to come home…only to have the police approach me, telling me that she’s been bludgeoned and raped to death. So many people are apart of the “sexual assault club” and frankly, I don’t want any new members. I think back to my experience, and I thank the Lord that I am still alive, because I didn’t have to be. I’m starting to lose faith in humanity. I’m thinking that there will never be change. And if there is, things will get a lot worse before it gets better.

Uyinene could’ve been me. It could’ve been anyone. So…who’s next?

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Facts and Opinions

What Consent Is…and What it Isn’t

Consent. That word has become pretty controversial over the past few years. With the #MeToo movement, so many people are mustering up the courage to come forward with their stories of sexual assault, rape, and abuse. Consent is the permission for something to happen or agreement to do something. Not too hard to comprehend right? Well, for some, it’s relatively confusing.

That could have to do with rape culture says Lena Finkel in her article for Medium.com called Why is Consent So Difficult to Understand? The no means no mantra should be instilled into people’s brains, I mean it’s simply self explanatory. If you ask someone if you can eat their fries for lunch, and they say no, well there you have it…you can’t eat their fries. If your hairdresser asks if they can chop all your hair off and give you a tapered fade and you say no, guess what? They better not be chopping your hair off and giving you a tapered fade. If you are lounging on the couch with your boo Netflix and chilling (oh, how I hate that term), and he is starting to go a little bit further than you want, when you say no or stop…he better go back to paying attention to Thanos evaporating most of the Avengers on TV (spoiler I guess, but you should have seen it already. If you haven’t…what’s wrong with you?). Of course, there are people who think that no means “let me try a little bit harder to persuade you until you give in” and stop means “I’m going to do it anyways because you’ll eventually like it later on.” No is a powerful word…and there are many times where uttering that word still doesn’t give the other party the bright idea that what they’re doing is wrong and not wanted. Well how about when no isn’t said, but the act still isn’t wanted? This is where consent begins to get a little fuzzy to some.

 

To add on to the definition of consent, consent must be clear, concise, and enthusiastic. There is nothing wrong with just getting down to the nitty gritty and asking, “do you want to have sex?” I know, I know, that is probably the least sexy way to get in the mood, but better safe than sorry. If the other person does not give you a solid green light, abort the mission my friend. I mean a succinct, “yes I want to have sex with you.” If the person is hesitant, saying things a long the lines of “I guess” or “maybe” sorry bud but that’s a no. For your safety, that should be a no. If the person consents, and things are going well, and then all of a sudden the other person wants to stop, what do you do? You stop! There is this weird belief that a person can’t cease consent if they already started getting physical. I’m here to say that’s not the case at all. You can always revoke consent at any given time.

 

What about if the other person is intoxicated? Or incapacitated? In 2014, music artist Cee-Lo Green tweeted that it wasn’t rape…if the woman was unconscious. He also added, and I quote, “people who have really been raped remember.” You’d be surprised, but there are actually a few people who believe this. It’s like when someone comes into your house and takes from you when you’re not home. “Oh it’s not stealing if you’re not in your house.” If I hit you in your sleep and you don’t wake up, that doesn’t mean that I didn’t hit you, I still did. You just didn’t feel it. On January 18, 2015, Brock Allen Turner, was spotted raping an unconscious woman behind a dumpster. This woman experienced a significant amount of physical trauma, as well as emotional. People should be able to go out and enjoy themselves at a party, but at the moment, it’s just not something that we can do. Society tends to blame the person who blacks out or gets inebriated is shamed. Yes, a person should know their limits in terms of drinking, but we are human, people sometimes can get a little out of hand and drink more than they need to. That doesn’t mean that someone should just take advantage of them because it’s now easier for them to be manipulated. If I take a glance at your wallet while you’re at a parking meter and see a large wad of cash in there, does that give me the right to bash you over the head and take it? I mean, you opened your wallet a little too wide, obviously you wanted to get robbed. Does that make sense to you? In my personal opinion, if a person is drunk, they are not able to consent. Point. Blank. Period. You have no business trying to sleeping with a person who can barely stand or make rational decisions for themselves. A lot of people use this as a loophole. Oh she said yes so it was okay. Oh he didn’t fight back, it was fine. This person also is a light weight and gulped half a bottle of Hennessy and washed it down with Capriccio and one-third of a 4 Loko. I don’t really see the fun in having sex with a person who is on the verge of passing out or choking on their own vomit.

 

Predators like to prey on people who are more vulnerable because they have more power over the situation. A drunk person won’t really fight back as much as a sober person. What if they’re both drunk? Who takes the ownership? Even I am stumped on this. Typically, it is determined based off of the person who is the most conscious in the situation. If the person knows that they are drunk, and the other person is drunk as well, and the initiate the act, they are the ones at fault. The court would really have to go through the case with a fine tooth comb if it was ever sent to trial. This argues the fact that drunk sex can never be consensual. I don’t really know about that, but I do believe that it depends on the amount of alcohol that is being ingested. There’s a difference between tipsy and drunk. Going back to the statement I made before, who would want to have sex with a sloppy drunk person?

 

To sum up, I’ll go through a run down of what I’m talking about:

  • never assume the person wants to have sex. I don’t care if they are bumping and grinding on you in the club and singing The Weeknd’s Or Nah verbatim after deep throating a popsicle…ASK! Sorry for the graphic image.
  • pay attention to body language. If you are initiating sexual contact and the other person is not engaging enthusiastically or like they actually want to do it…stop! Remember, consent is clear and concise, and should be verbal to be safe.
  • if the other person is drunk, leave them alone. Just leave them alone. If the person is on some type of narcotics…LEAVE HER ALONE! They are not able to consent. If you’re not a shitty human being, maybe help them in some way.
  • it’s still rape if the person is unconscious. Cee-Lo Green is an idiot.
  • lastly, no means no.

 

Unfortunately, there are those people who know that no means no and that rape and sexual assault is not okay, but they don’t care. These people are mentally disturbed; disregarding a person’s well being for their own pleasure and sick compulsions. Those are the people that need the most help, but it might be too late for them. There are some pretty cruel people out there. Please be careful. Remember, you are not at fault. You are not in the wrong.

 

Here is a video that I think really helps demonstrate what consent really is:

 

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Journaling

Today’s Affirmations: Pain and Resolution

I re-watched an episode of Uncensored on the television station TV One. This particular episode was on a woman by the name of Tami Roman. For those of you that don’t know who she is, she is most known for being a cast member on the VH1 hit Basketball Wives, as well as being on the original season of The Real World. I didn’t really know much about her, but I really did learn a lot about her life. My Mother used to watch this series, and she would say that Tami could be a force to be reckoned with, and now that I have seen her episode of Uncensored, I can kind of see why.

This woman was sexually abused not once…but twice in her life. The first time was when she was eight years old by her Mother’s boyfriend. I wrote an essay on child sexual abuse. If you didn’t read it, please take the time to do so. The psychological turmoil a child can go through when it comes to being violated at an early age…the list goes on and on. Then while getting gas with a friend, she had her jewelry stolen off her body and was forced to drive to an abandoned warehouse where her and her friend were sexually abused for four days until the person finally let them go. The anger she must have felt; the anger and frustration. I am sure that incident caused her to put her walls up and go into attack mode when she senses that someone is attacking her. I kind of do the same thing. I recently had a person tell me that I was too aggressive, and that if I think someone is trying to pick a fight with me, I shut down or go off…there isn’t really much of a gray area. With that being said, I wanted to focus on pain, anger and of course resolution. Sometimes we can’t control the things that happen to us. The pain and trauma that is inflicted upon us against our will is not our fault. It has no bearing on who you are and has everything to do with them. The mantra is of course for healing any guilt or shame that comes with the wrongdoing that has been forced upon you, as well as soothing the anger and frustration that comes with remembering.

I am not at fault

I am not my trauma

I AM NOT MY TRAUMA

I am not my pain

I may be frustrated now, but I won’t be for the rest of my life

What they did has nothing to do with me and everything to do with them

It’s okay to be angry

It’s okay to not be okay

It’s okay to reach out for help

I will be healed

I will be whole

When I begin to think about the past, I will focus even more on the present and the future

I am my own hero

I am strong…but it’s okay not to be sometimes

This too shall pass

Things will get better

I will continue to have faith…and if I have none at the moment, it will come to me

I will exercise my emotions in a healthy and positive way

I will regulate my emotions when they seem to be too much

Positivity is just beyond the horizon

I will surround myself with people who care about my well being

I will surround myself with people who want me to do better

I will be around people who treat me the way that I should be treated

I will treat people better

I will evolve positively in all aspect of my life

All me hopes and dreams will come into fruition.

I will be alright

 

 

 

 

 

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Facts and Opinions

What My Anxiety Looks Like

*this post keeps deleting itself…and I have no idea why….but here it is!*

It was a whirlwind; a tornado of conflict. I was fine one minute…not the next. I was sitting in the front of my classroom trying to focus on a Sigmund Freud documentary in my Theories of Personality class. My heart was racing, my mind was wandering, and I was sweating from my palms. The room was shrinking as my breaths became more labored. I felt as if I sat in that chair any longer, I would have fell through the tile. I grabbed my bag, a cute tote bag that I collected during my trip to New York (a story that I will tell soon), dropped my phone on the floor, and fled what felt like a near death situation. I remember sobbing and wailing in the Psychology office, sniffling on the shirt of the woman who had been behind the desk. I felt pitiful. This lady probably thought that I was insane, but she was in the Psychology office, so I’m assuming that she was a little more equipped than someone from say the Biology department. I was shaking like I was struck with hypothermia. This was a side swipe; it hit me out of nowhere. What happened? What was that? That, my friends, was an anxiety attack, and the largest one that I had by far. I’ve heard people detail their episodes and they sounded like nightmares; something straight out of a horror film. Over the course of about a year and a half, my anxiety had skyrocketed. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because I’m forcing myself to heal in a toxic environment, or because I’m piling too much on my plate…or a mixture of both.

Anxiety is commonly caused by external and environmental factors. In my case, an act of trauma on a college campus. An anxiety attack can spur anywhere at anytime. It’s also very common too. According to DoSomething.org, around ten percent of teenagers and forty percent of adults suffer from anxiety. I’m not good at math, so bare with me, but that’s more than three million cases. Anxiety is very much so treatable, but around two-thirds of the population There are so many different types of anxiety: GAD (generalized personality disorder, social anxiety, panic disorders, PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder), agoraphobia, specific phobias, and OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder). Because I am not a licensed professional, here are some definitions of each one according to Beyond Blue (https://www.beyondblue.org.au/the-facts/anxiety/types-of-anxiety):

Generalized Personality Disorder:

A person feels anxious on most days, worrying about lots of different things, for a period of six months or more.

Social Anxiety:

A person has an intense fear of being criticised, embarrassed or humiliated, even in everyday situations, such as speaking publicly, eating in public, being assertive at work or making small talk.

Panic Disorders:

A person has panic attacks, which are intense, overwhelming and often uncontrollable feelings of anxiety combined with a range of physical symptoms. Someone having a panic attack may experience shortness of breath, chest pain, dizziness and excessive perspiration. Sometimes, people experiencing a panic attack think they are having a heart attack or are about to die. If a person has recurrent panic attacks or persistently fears having one for more than a month, they’re said to have panic disorder.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or PTSD;

This can happen after a person experiences a traumatic event (e.g. war, assault, accident, disaster). Symptoms can include difficulty relaxing, upsetting dreams or flashbacks of the event, and avoidance of anything related to the event. PTSD is diagnosed when a person has symptoms for at least a month.

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder or OCD:

A person has ongoing unwanted/intrusive thoughts and fears that cause anxiety. Although the person may acknowledge these thoughts as silly, they often try to relieve their anxiety by carrying out certain behaviors or rituals. For example, a fear of germs and contamination can lead to constant washing of hands and clothes.

I will try my best to define agoraphobia and specific disorders. I use to think that agoraphobia was just being afraid of going outside, but it is a bit more intricate. Wide open spaces can trigger some type of anxiety. I would assume because you’re worried something may happen to you and you have no one to alert…but I am not a professional I wouldn’t know. Some people are startled by large crowds, or being in an enclosed space. Panic attacks and agoraphobia may go hand and hand, especially if a panic attack ensues in a public space. Specific phobias are phobias on one particular thing. For instance, my Mother is deathly afraid of snakes. Small snakes, big snakes, poisonous snakes, non-poisonous snakes…it doesn’t matter. I think it started when she was a child and saw a garden snake in her backyard. When my Grandmother was pregnant with her, a snake slithered across her foot, so I thought that was rather interesting that she developed this phobia. My friend will have a conniption fit if she sees any type of insect, even a ladybug. I remember I use to terrorize her when we were younger with cicadas that I found around my house when she came over. I didn’t think about the severity of it all, I was seven. Thankfully, cicadas don’t come back until I’m in my mid-twenties, and I’m pretty sure I have grown from that sense of immaturity. Sorry girl, I love you though. These phobias can be compartmentalized into different categories, some common ones are: situations, animals (like my Mother and my friend), natural disasters, injury, and miscellaneous like clowns or vomiting.

I think as a person, it is normal to worry, but over time, I can clearly see that it is becoming quite intrusive in my life. During the end of my freshman year and my sophomore year, my anxiety was through the roof. One thing that I was really nervous about was walking to the dining hall to get food. My dorm was literally a hop, skip, and a jump away from the dining hall, and I would not go because I was afraid of people seeing me outside. I lost a lot of weight around that time. Now, it has subsided a little bit, but there still is a surge of uncertainty when I leave my house. I can’t really pinpoint what I’m worried about, but I get those butterflies in my stomach that fly up through my throat.

To help calm these nerves down, I have tried carrying notebooks around with me (you can learn more about that with my Guide to Journaling post). I also take deep breaths, or I try to focus my thoughts on a particular scene that I made up in my head. I always like the one where I’m wandering around Paris around the Louvre. The sky is infused with purple, pink, and a hint of blue. I’m in nice clothing and I’m exploring the city, eating macaroons and living freely. See? That’s a nice image to picture in your head right? Sometimes that’s not all you can do though. Trust me, if we could dream about out our fantasies as a way to aid anxiety, people wouldn’t need to be prescribed medication. However, medication is a way to get a bit of solace. There are also natural remedies. I have heard that incense and scents like lavender help calm the body down. Some people carry around crystals (and I actually have a few which I may do a post on one day). The same friend that I terrorized with cicadas actually offered me some CBD oil that her mom had bought her. I plan on trying it out quite soon, so maybe I’ll do a review on it later.

Whatever way works. there is a way to ease anxiety. One way may not work for everyone. Anxiety can get better over time, and it can also get worse. It depends on the person. There is a way to heal of course, but it may take some time to find the right method. There is a way to manage it.

 

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Facts and Opinions

Mental Health Awareness Month

May! I welcome you with open arms! I know this post is a few days late, but it’s alright! It’s the thought that counts, right? In May, nature is blooming; there’s a certain type of rebirth taking place in the atmosphere. The weather’s warmth becomes more consistent. Kids are beginning to wrap up the end of the semester and prepare for summer. People are attending proms and graduations…it’s a beautiful transition from the old to the new. May is the month of renewal; a surge of energy that is needed to inspire and motivate the Earth to continue to create. Like many, we too require the motivation and inspiration in life to keep going, but sometimes, we have roadblocks.

May is Mental Health Awareness Month. May has been a month to educate others on the importance of mental health, help people better their mental health, and celebrate the little victories that come with every step in the journey ahead. Slowly but surely, the curse is lifting, and the stigma is breaking. Mental health should not be something that’s seen as taboo. We all have brains (even if some people don’t seem to use theirs efficiently), and the brain like any other organ can be injured. It’s time to stop being afraid on speaking up about how we feel.

By dictionary definition, mental health is quite simple. It’s a certain level of psychological well being; the state of someone who is functioning at a satisfactory level of emotional and behavioral adjustments. Mental health can affect and influence the ability to enjoy life. Picture your ideal vacation spot. It’s right there; just a few steps forward and you’ll be there. But suddenly, this clear glass box falls around you, keeping you from moving anywhere. To me, that’s how I feel when my mental health isn’t A1. I can envision my happiness, but something is blocking it.

There are so many things that can cause mental health issues; the cause can be quite complex. From genetics, biological factors, past trauma, drug usage, or just the environment that you’re in…it can all have an effect on the brain.

Of course….*deep breath*…..MENTAL HEALTH IS NOT JUST A ONE RACE ISSUE! Every race struggles with it, however, there are races that are more hesitant to explore it and heal the wounds that are left. That is one of the reasons why black mental health is something that is so important to me, because even though we are making more and more of an effort, we can still do so much more. Our mental health matters more than we think it does. Mental health is not a white issue; if you have a brain you can suffer from mental health. It’s time to stop sweeping our health under the rug, I cannot stress that enough.

Everyone deserves to feel good. People deserve to love themselves. People deserve to give themselves a good life. Throughout the month of May, I will be talking a little bit more about my mental health, as well as other issues that effect the black mental health community that need to be addressed.

Peace and blessings

xoxo

 

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Journaling

The Summer Glow Up

I’m stuffing my face with a pack of Mrs. Freshley’s Mini powdered donuts. I’ve never heard of the brand, but their donuts satisfy my sugar craving. You see, this is the last time that I will be eating sugar for probably a very long time. This month has been littered with a lot of lasts. Last Saturday, that was the last time that I ate meat. I shivered as I ordered a Turkey Tom from Jimmy John’s (a place I will miss dearly). As I am studying for finals, I am envisioning a better me, and I want this summer to be time where I put my “glow up” in gear.

When I come home in a few days after finals, the first thing I’m going to do is rummage through all of my clothes and model them in my room; the ones that don’t fit I’m going to give away. After that, I’m going to usher in a new sense of style and replace the old with the new. I want to rearrange my room and decorate it. Your space is very important, so it shouldn’t look like just anything. I want to buy a plant and create a little station for the crystals that I bought last spring. I want to place at least two paintings on my walls too, and maybe a little figurine or sculpture somewhere.

I want to get my body in shape. I always want to workout, but then I think about it, and laying in bed, scrolling through my phone on Twitter filling my brain with mush sounds a lot better than potentially twisting my ankle on a treadmill. Working out is not my favorite thing to do, but it’s all about making it fun! Going out to get a gym membership just to lift some weights and do the stair climber for five minutes would be a waste of time for me. The Bar Method caught my attention recently. My friend in New York has been raving about this place, saying that it’s made her stronger and has “totally and completely changed her life.” After looking at a snippet of their workout online, I loved the ballet aspect, as well as what parts of the body I would be isolating in the workout. Looking at the people shaking from the many reps that they were doing was a little intimidating, but I am up for a challenge. And I can’t lie…I’m excited to buy the cute little socks.

I want to wake up earlier in the morning. If I don’t have work, you won’t be seeing me until 3:00 pm. I want to wake up at at least 7:00 am. I want to make a whole morning routine:

  • First I would stretch. This would mean that I would actually have to get out of bed. I have a yoga mat that is still wrapped in its plastic that needs some loving.
  • After that I would do a fifteen minute warmup for the day. I have The Bar Method online, and their fifteen minute workout was pretty refreshing. I will say, it would be a lot better if I had an actual bar installed in my room, but that’s too much money, and I have a chair that will suffice.
  • I’ll freshen up with a nice bath while playing my morning routine music. It’s full of Anthony Hamilton, Erykah Badu, Jill Scott, Lauryn Hill, and etcetera. It’s just a great way to set the mood in the morning. India Aire’s Video always puts a smile on this melanin girl’s face.
  • After putting on my clothes breakfast, I have breakfast. This goes into my next transformation…

To go off of what I mentioned earlier, I am cutting out meat, sugar, and gluten…I would say dairy, but like Oprah, I love bread. Cheese, milk, yogurt and things like that are a no-go, but I can’t let go of bread. Chronic illness is the main reason for this. I don’t plan to live with this forever, and I know the first step towards healing is what you put in your body. My friend and I are going to hop from health food store to health food store and buy a bunch of core healing edible things like sea moss and chickpea flour. I’m going to cook my meals and prep them for the week…vegan meals. I winced typing that. That is something I never thought I would ever type, say, think or fathom…me….vegan? I don’t know, I’ve heard so many people say that it made them feel better, and I want to see if I’ll be one of them at some point. I should eat to live, not live to eat. Besides, now I’ll learn to make more than a good bowl of cereal. Let’s see if I can actually follow a recipe, huh?

I want to reconnect with myself. I feel like I have days where I’m so in tune with who I am, and other days where I look in the mirror and don’t recognize myself it seems like. I want to be whole. I want to continue going to therapy. I want to continue exercising these demons I call anxiety, depression, and insecurity. I did a group therapy session, but I would much rather be one on one with my therapist. Not to be selfish, but there were a lot of things I didn’t get a chance to mention. I will make sure I cover all those bases this summer.

I want to be closer to God more importantly. That is the main shift I need. I’ve always been the type of person to think I need to do things by myself. I am going to work on asking for help…more more importantly…I need to work on asking Him for more help. Not to get all churchy on you, but he deserves way more than I’ve been giving.

I have had many times to change, and I didn’t go all out with it. Now, I have to. I think my problem is thinking I have to do everything all at once and then it’ll fall into place. This is going to test my patience and my endurance; my will and my faith. I’ll be recording my process and keeping track. I begin as soon as I get home from school. It’s time for me to get my life together. It’s time.

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Facts and Opinions

Back to the Basics

Hello to that one person who may be reading my blog. I really haven’t been on it too much. I guess there really is no explanation as to why. School could be one. School has been kicking my butt ever since kindergarten, but this last semester of my junior year of college is making me wonder why I didn’t drop out yet. It could be my wavering time management. I think honestly it has to do with laziness. But the summer is nigh, and I feel like I will have more energy, as well as more creativity throughout the warmer months. I plan to write more poetry, speak about more issues that are not only affecting me but others, and most importantly have fun with blogging. So expect to see more posts from me in the months to come!

Peace and blessings 🕊❤️

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