Beat my depression & grow confidence and freedom in its place

It’s been quite a while since I logged into this account. The previous entry is painful to read.

A lot can happen in two years. I’m well on the road to a depression free life. I’ve quit attempting to change or fix anyone but myself and I’m letting go of all the painful thoughts and ideas that other people wrote in my script. It’s a beautiful thing really, peace is a battle hard fought but so worth it in the end.

What an amazing journey one takes on the road to finding herself! I am stunned. For a long time I have wanted to write a book about being black, female, and depressed. I can no longer complete the project because that combination of adjectives no longer describes me.

Ironically, I weigh more than I’ve ever weighed, I’ve been through a really rough break up, I am seriously broke and a myrad of other things that one might find defeating even if he/she had no history of mental illness; however I am happier than I can remember being in a long time. I am confident in both my mental abilities and my aesthetics! It’s as a lover once described me… “subtly amazing”

When I make this list of all the things I “want” to do it sounds so refreshing and positive… as the years have progressed and things fall off the list (not to be confused with things get accomplished or crossed off the list) I find it to be an exhausting, full-frontal view of my lack of drive and determination… a clairvoyant look into why I’m depressed… I’ve been so wrapped up in so many inconsequential things, people, places, ideas… I’ve been so caught up in the title, the stereotype, the fear that I have made no moves towards happy… instead I swallow the single mama, baby mama, debutante drop-out, college- dropout, broke bullshit that keeps me here rather than simply being myself… and I realized recently that I am afraid to change. I am afraid to let go of these weights… so busy holding onto death and despair that it’s all I can do to keep my head above water… forget flying… I’m just trying not to drown… but it has to stop. I wrapped myself up in problems… first an unexpected pregnancy, the break-up, the move to ATL, the job loss, the move to Dallas, wrapped myself up in what I wanted so desperately to be love I suffocated myself and him within that pseudo-love and that love is dead. I am dead. The girl I knew is dead. And I don’t believe in resurrecting things that have come to the ends of their cycles. I do believe in rising again. I am so tired of being unhappy. It is exhausting. I know that as I type this something is preventing me from saying I am done being unhappy… I need to know what that thing is and how to kill it. I’m taking baby steps from now on. Trying to eradicate one unhappy thing, person, trait, idea from my space every month so at some point I can enjoy being myself.