Memento Mori - October 2024

Blue Valentine - A limitless potential
Created by Eva Gamayun

I sneezed and September was over.

A lot happened in that blink of time though… the daughter turned 15 years old. I don’t think that I’ll ever get used to being HER mother. I don’t wear the clothing of parenthood as this thing that defines who I am… and I think that’s why it still feels odd to call her “mine.” Maybe some parents do feel like they own their children, hence their possessiveness… but I still don’t feel it. I DO feel like I have a huge responsibility attached to the rest of my life BECAUSE I made the wild ass decision to let life enter this world through me… but it’s a responsibility I keep finding the courage to honor… because I want to…. because she’s worth it.

I don’t view motherhood/parenthood SPECIFICALLY as an obligatory crushing weight. It’s more of a chosen commitment that should never be broken. Do I have the option to break this covenant? Sure. There are breeders and penis wielders who do it everyday without even batting an eye. The creation of a child means nothing to them beyond the fact that another person exists in the world because they had sex. I still carry the pregnancy test with me everywhere I go…it serves as a reminder of many things but mainly that I CHOSE to be a mother… because at any point, I CAN choose not to be…. I also think about what that would mean to her if I just gave up because some shit got hard. It’s the worst kind of coward I could ever choose to be.

Even in my worst mental moments of life since the kiddo has been born though, my brain refuses to let me seriously entertain living without her. My lifelong buddies, A&D, have done their best to convince me that Bug would be better off without me. However, that’s MOSTLY when they hang out with SI too long. SI is that one “friend” that lives in the quotations because they’re not a real friend to anyone even though they never seem to really go away. They tell all of us things that aren’t true, encourage the worst of behavior, and support fuckery that typically wouldn’t have space to chill. There’s a part of my brain that wholeheartedly believes SI is the worst enemy I’ve ever had…but SI remains familiar.

I’ve been ignoring the nagging spirit of SI lately, especially during the blink of September… but it’s hard because this is when seasonal moods start lurking in the shadows a little longer than usual. The more I sit with why it starts in September, the more I have to acknowledge how much of an insidious ass heaux Capitalism is… another presence that can’t be avoided no matter how hard I try. Every day of September took me from contentment to meh and then from there to exhaustion and frustration, with a dash of existential dread because it isn’t JUST my world that’s up in flames (figuratively and literally). Everyday there was something that added to the layers of this gloomy and doom filled picture of life.

But then there were moments that assured me it wasn’t ALL bad. The happiness about being a year older was also sprinkled throughout the entire month of September. Those sprinklings nudged me away from SI’s fonky ass who had cleverly slipped their arm in mine, like they were going to sit around and stay for a minute. I think this is why it’s so important to make sure you KEEP joy in your life… whatever shape or form it is, make sure you do whatever is necessary to maintain it. For me, I remind myself to laugh at least once a day. It might seem insignificant BUT there hasn’t been a time when I was laughing that I actually WANTED to be hanging out with A&D or SI. My brain does this weird thing where it looks for more things to laugh and smile about. Before I know it, those intrusive ass thoughts have simmered down to make room for hopefulness and gratitude.

This is my brain everyday. Sounds exhausting BECAUSE IT IS.

However, doing things like writing these Memento Mori’s are reminders that everything isn’t all bad, all the time.

I closed out September managing intrusive thoughts BUT ALSO making space for whatever slivers of joy could seep into this raggedy ass life. Yes, it’s a daily juggling act but I think it’s one I keep doing because there ARE days when the good outweighs the bad. And that’s what I look forward to in October, November, December, and the years to come in my life.

I don’t want SI getting too comfortable during holiday season so look forward to the next few months being about all the things I enjoy, love, like, and want more of in my life. Until then, I’ll be living as best I can. I hope the same for anyone reading this…

Memento Mori: March 2024

January was full of anxiety and February started off with the same energy. I am grateful that I was able to woosah long enough to catch my breath and shift into a space that gave me the opportunity to step away from that anxiety.

I didn’t smoke any cigarettes either. I did drink more coffee than usual but let’s pretend caffiene is better than nicotine for the time being. Last month I randomly mentioned the #7 and its significance and then said nothing else about it for the rest of my post. It was one of those moments where I had to write it out of my head because it was blocking the flow of everything else I wanted to say. HOWEVER, we’re circling back because February was full of revelations, epiphanies, and cultivated seeds sprouting tiny, green leaves of fruition.

I had so many meaningful conversations during those 29 days that I began to wonder how many more wonderful conversations were left to have throughout the rest of 2024. That wasn’t an anxiety laced wonder but one of curiosity. I am getting more and more comfortable with leaning into my intuition over forcing myself to center logic. It has been nothing but intuition that has led me to doing things that make me feel good. Logic has definitely kept me alive but my life shouldn’t just be surviving. As a Black woman, there will not be any time soon when I can completely go from surviving to thriving. I will not create that delusion for myself. HOWEVER, there is room to enjoy life when I can. There is room to thrive, where I can. My intuition has kept me from answering calls that will drain me but it’s also prompted me to answer calls I usually wouldn’t because of the illusion that I’m too busy to take the call. Every decision has been worth it, even if it was just to maintain my peace for the day.

While some people might consider their past to be nothing worth remembering, there are moments from previous years that I truly enjoyed. There were aspects of my younger self that I admired, loved, and never saw myself without… until I was convinced that I needed to leave those parts behind in favor of becoming someone else more palatable. Digestible for what and to who? Someone who isn’t even a staple in my life. I often think about losing myself and never getting back to loving me to the point that I never lose myself again. There was a time when I felt like I was fading away into the shadow of someone else, despite knowing I radiated a light they could never truly put out. But, our brains can sometimes tell us stories that are untrue. I almost believed the stories fed to me. My brain almost made them my reality but there was another part of me still fighting for the truth.

My younger self was always good at clinging to the truth about everything and everyone. I valued it and thought I’d never let it go. Somewhere on this confusing life road I started believing the lie that it’s okay to believe things that are untrue because that’s how you make unreal things, real. I am glad I clawed my way out of that confusion and mess. It was an experience that has scared me enough to know I’ll do everything in my power to not end up there again. One of the ways I know how to seal the deal of not returning to a shitshow is to elevate all the things I was told I needed to change. I was told to change things about myself that were considered unattractive and difficult traits. They weren’t. Those traits helped make me the smart, strong, decisive, determined woman I am today. It prevented people from being able to linger where they didn’t belong in my life. It was like a personal repellent… and it has been working well, lately.

Fullness, completeness, insightfulness, intuition, honesty, introspection, intellectualism, and wisdom. These are all things that have resonated throughout February and effortlessly flowed into March. I have also been paying attention to how I feel and as I change who I spend my time with, I am noticing that I am feeling better… and lighter. It’s reassurance that my changes are necessary and part of my forward movement.

I saw a post on Instagram that said:

“Perhaps this next stage has more to do with who & what you’re choosing to grow with, rather than who & what you’re letting go of”

and it was a Eureka! moment. It’s been common for me to fixate on who and what I am losing or must let go of. I am accepting that sometimes that really is the least of my concerns. That isn’t to downplay that loss can be devastating, depending on who/what I lose. But, I really do think my focus is supposed to be on what I stand to gain in this season. The loss is inevitable. It’s going to happen but I still maintain this feeling of curious wonder rather than anxiety filled wonder. I have this undeniable feeling that all the loss and L’s I’ve experienced in the last 15 years will be outshined by the blessings, change, and love I will soon come to have. I am looking forward to seeing a lot of things unfold and I desire to be around people who are curious to watch with me. People who will cheer me on, be eager to celebrate WITH AND FOR me, and include me in all their joy too. So, here’s to the memento mori of March and all the wonderful things that will bloom throughout this year.

I’m ready :-)

Memento Mori: February 2024

I haven’t smoked a cigarette in 7 years.

The number 7 signifies fullness, completeness, but also insight, intuition, honesty, introspection, intellectualism, and wisdom.

During the month of January, I constantly thought about smoking a cigarette, if for nothing else but to take the edge off of life. I was close to even asking a coworker for one of theirs as I watched them puff away during the work trip. My brain wanted to ask them twice for a cigarette but that same damn brain reminded me that strokes are very real for people who smoke with my chronic illness. Yes, Memento Mori is a reminder that I must die (so live it up!) but that’s eventually AND it doesn’t have to be a slow OR a quick suicide. I can just let life play out and see where it ultimately takes me… so, I didn’t ask for the cigarette. I thought I left that fleeting thought in South Carolina on 1/24/2024 but it came back three days later as my anxiety escalated.

And I have been thinking about cigarettes everyday for the last week.

I started smoking because my anxiety had reached an all time high and there was no way to tone it down. Drinking used to work but that will draw the light closer and leave my child motherless so I tread lightly with liquor. I 100% understand the addictive nature of nicotine because one hit and it slows EVERYTHING down to a tolerable level. My hands stop shaking, the migraine creeping up the back of my skull subsides, the churning in my gut settles, and most importantly, my brain calms the fuck down. It’s an instant fix but an extremely temporary one, hence the habit forming.

I’m not going to smoke BUT this is a lie free space so I’m saying I still want to.

I had a lumpectomy last month and only took a week off work when I should have taken off three. In the month of January, I had to close out the month of December, the last quarter of year, and the rest of the year, right before my surgery. As soon as I came back I had to get hella shit in order before the annual company trip. Took off for that trip a couple of weeks after the surgery and now I’m sick with what feels like a sinus infection/COVID. My energy reserves are depleted and I’m getting a reminder everyday from my body that I cannot push myself like I used to. For one, I’m not 100% healed from my surgery so this isn’t necessarily the smartest course of action but viable options are not plenty in my world. Did I mention I’m also in grad school?

I am a ragdoll who’s been sewing herself back together since she was a live girl.

Due to some articulation skills, I can intellectualize my feelings. This ability has often caused people to think that whatever I’m experiencing isn’t THAT bad. What a lot of people are used to seeing from a person with (complex) PTSD is incoherence and erratic behavior that aligns with words like “crazy” and “unhinged.” However, intellectualizing feelings is not the same as actually processing shit and dealing with it and that’s where the severe anxiety enters the room yearning for a nicotine fix.

A friend acknowledged that my body has been through it for the last few years. That’s been to her knowledge and I appreciate her seeing me and not following it up with some half-ass anecdote that dismisses the validity of my experience. It was a small gesture of kindness BUT it STILL mattered. We’re often told that tough times don’t last forever and while that is definitely a fact, define forever. If tough times are consistently present until my final memento, that was my forever. So, if I look at 2012-2024 of unprocessed shit there’s an abusive marriage, family estrangement, an abortion, begging for a divorce that wouldn’t be finalized until 10 years later, becoming a single mother, several layoffs, family deaths, a couple death scares, several surgeries, dreams deferred, friendships lost, cancer rearing its ugly head, a pandemic, moving across country during a pandemic, having to use up all the life/house savings to survive, a divorce, a dead parent, and the rest of the world being on fire around me, simultaneously.

These last 12 years have been their own damn forever.

So I would like for February to talk to me nicely. I don’t have the energy to plead for more but should more good shit come my way, I’ll take it. Universe, please know this isn’t me saying to pull the final curtain. I’m saying cut me some fucking slack and issue in some wins that cancel out some of this mental and physical anguish.

Life’s a lot to hold right now.

I still want a fucking cigarette.