Archive for the ‘fears’ Category

Breaking the cycle of negativity…

I grew up knowing that my mother was different than everyone else’s mom. It was something I had to learn to accept, though to this day I’m not sure I did until this year.  I wasn’t the easiest child during those early years either. I’m sure I still am not in her eyes. But somewhere along the way from childhood to adulthood, I’ve just stopped resenting her.

This year was the first time in my life that when people asked me of my spiritual beliefs I could truly say that I was very spiritual. Maybe not in the “traditional” Southern Bible Belt way, but I pray and I put faith in more things than I have ever in my life. My head is spinning with change.  Positive change. A word so overused this year but very appropriate to my growing. Discovering who I am was never something I felt I had to journey but somehow I am on one and I’m not as scared as I thought I would be.

I’ve always loved my mother, but one word I can never put to her is the word change. She’s just not a fan. Though her words from years gone by are less harsh, they still hold weight in my heart. She is manic depressive. I have to tell myself that everyday when I think of what she may have said or what I anticipate her saying. Even though she is more well than not through medication, she still is the mother I watched have breakdown after breakdown and I for one was a child who had to grow up fast.

This morning was a breakthrough for me in all of this I’ve just written. No matter what you try to attach to what shapes my mother, beyond her control or otherwise, one word I have to associate with her is negativity. She is a wonderful woman, loving and kind and I don’t say this as a way to insult her passive aggressively. But as I move along in my path in life, and as she has so much trouble accepting much of it, her general words on it all are not supportive. For years I craved acceptance and for years to come I will have to forget about asking or wishing for it. And in growing I have to shut my mind and ears off to words that will no longer help…especially these: “You know IT runs in the family.”

Let me tell you about IT. My grandmother, uncle and mother are very familiar with IT — mental illness.  Suddenly a mention of having trouble getting out of bed or the fact that I have been working on projects to help non-profits seems all to familiar to my mother. “You have highs and lows. You always want to do different things.”  What I reminded her of is that I have a thyroid disorder as I’ve mentioned in this blog before and so does she. The thyroid has much to do with mood and all around general health. And in the mornings that I have trouble pulling myself from the covers, I don’t dread my life. I’m just tired. And through my wanting to help people anyway I can, I’m not overly simulated with mania, I just want to make a difference.

I let her know today that I have to break this cycle of negativity. We have to as our own selves. We have to make our own path and follow it even if it feels scary. Even if your family doesn’t approve. You just have to take YOUR step. No one else can do it for you. And not everyone will applaud when you take it.

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A noose at Columbia?!

Jena. Yes at Jena. There is no excuse for it, but that is the South. I live in the South. I know the South.

Call me an idealist, but New York has always represented a sense of freedom, beauty, opportunity and open-mindedness to me. Am I wrong? Yet another noose. Yet ANOTHER ONE at Columbia University of all places. A very distraught Madonna Constantine, the black professor who found the noose on her door, was on Good Morning America this morning–talking to Robin Roberts (my idol), which is ironic because the fact that we see black journalists everyday should show we are in another world compared to what the 50s had to offer. Anyway, the professor said one of the main things she felt was embarrassed though she said she had nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m embarrassed too.

You all know that I hate the race card. And that I don’t like to go on and on about “the black plight.” But this HAS to stop. Why is the world so hateful? I’m continuing my lose of faith in people. And this resurgence of “the noose” is childish at best, dangerous to our country’s progression at worse. I have been pretty lucky because I can’t think of a major incident in my life where I was the victim of racism. To be honest my racism had mostly been by other blacks telling me I wasn’t black enough. Very different problem. My parents however were old enough to experience racism while living in Lubbock, Texas. My mother and her siblings went for ice cream only to discover their vanilla scoops were in fact Crisco. Both of my parents also remember the segregation, the separate water fountains.

I feel so very blessed (I say blessed…even as an agnostic). I’m blessed because I know that the opportunities and the life I have today is a direct result of people who fought for what I have. But I’m fearing that we are going backwards. Not just with something like a fool hanging a noose but this is going to create more of those “movements” I despise. I don’t want to see a 1960s-like movement everytime such actions like this one are taken. I think we can solve this without a march. I think if we just EDUCATE. Show the face of racism and humiliate it. I want to see everyone banded together and speaking out in the community. Marches just get written off as “oh, there THEY go again.” But if you take actions to educate, whether that is in school or town hall meetings, maybe something can be done? But then again, maybe I’m being an idealist like I said before. And because I’m just starting and continuing to feel quite disappointed in people, I might just join a march if there is one to be a part of. I’m tired. I’m just so tired of it.

I hear assistant living calling

I just had one of those moments I dread.

I’m guilty of a little short-term memory every now and then. We all are I suppose. But I just did something I’ve feared my whole life. I repeated myself. When I say repeat, I don’t mean verbally. I mean that I printed off an email. Put it in a folder. And then went to the copier 15 minutes later looking for it as if the prior actions never happened. I asked a co-worker who was leaving the printer if he saw it and he said no. So I printed it again only to file it back in the folder I had filed the earlier one already.

Hello geriatrics. Please save a bed for me.