The Internet can be a cruel and unusual abyss of half-cocked opinions and bargain basement analysis, especially when it comes to Black wom...
Shoe Personality of The Week: 5/19/2013
This weekend is a special weekend. Today is The Beau's birthday. He'll be sick that I'm bothering to mention that here but also thankful that I didn't use his gubment name so no more attention comes his way. Anywho, birthdays are a time for celebration & I've made every effort to make sure that's exactly what we did & how he felt. & still that dude Murphy & his damn laws crept in. This weekend has been a comedy of errors. After typing that it seems to be misnomer because I didn't actually do anything wrong, & while the celebration of The Beau went off without a hitch, EVERYTHING else outside of that seemed to go dastardly wrong. Enough so that I dusted off the word "dastardly."
I'll spare you the details but mostly because the details will probably make me cry again, much like living them as they happened did. That's not true. What actually happened is that this weekend's REE-DICULOUS occurrences found their way atop a pile I didn't realize I had created. You know how Life sometimes will serve it up like Serena Williams & you can't do a thing but get outta the way? Yeah, well, Life has been coming at my ass like it's training camp & I've just been trying to do the best I can. I felt like I was handling it because I was still standing, not realizing I'd just pushed things aside so my knees wouldn't buckle under the weight.
Once upon a time I have been depressed to the point of paralysis. I stayed still for what felt like an eternity, completely unable to move through the business of my own Life. Coming out on the other side of that, able to walk, made me make a promise to myself that I would never be still long enough for Life to whoop up on me like that again. But there's a down side to constant motion. You may not know it or identify with it because we're led to believe that being still is idle time & idle time is either the devil or a waste. That's bullshit but I too drank the Kool Aid, to the degree that even when I know the truth, it's difficult for me to do what I need to do for self. Brainwashing at its finest.
All that has brought me to where I am today. I'm built Ford tough, & have certainly fashioned myself to be....sturdy. I like natural fibers so I feel like a tree trunk as opposed to a cement block, but wood does splinter. & that's what happened. The notion that your present prepares you for your future helps me get by. It may not be true for you, but it gives purpose in the moment to some of the blows I'm taking on my chin. The problem with that is tomorrow ultimately must be more difficult than yesterday in order to prepare you for the next tomorrow. Following me? So, yes, I feel equipped to handle my current sitch based on still standing after the last major brawl but damn if I'm not tired. My Life feels extremely heavy right now, while also recognizing just how good I have it. One day I'll run that down but not today. Still, difficulty is relative & my present is feeling relatively austere (loogidup). To get by I'd been staring things in the face & then telling them to go have a seat. I forgot they were still resting in the corner, stacking on top of one another until something of a troublesome totem was erected. My totem got all snarky & in its Steve Harvey voice said, "we've got time for just one more thing." & then Life sent competitors battling to get to the top of the totem, to be the head, & with them all jumping at once to get up there the whole thing came crashing down.
Tears fell. Ugly sounds came from the bathroom where I went to hide this breakdown. My wood splintered.
Sensitive to not wanting to appropriate (uh-pro-pree-ate) the weekend & usher in dark clouds over the birthday party, I had to reach down & try to smile my way through it. Ever a balancing act, forever getting my Grace Under Fire on, I strapped on my heels, hot toweled those tears away & proceeded to fake it til I made it.
I'm still faking it but I looked damn good ALL WEEKEND while I was doing it. But as I'm unlearning this need to be in constant motion, I need to also reevaluate this notion of never letting them see me sweat--or cry--when "them" are the people who love & support me. No longer shamed by being prone to depression, I must also learn to embrace my tears & be OK with having them wiped.
Watch me move.