Everyday is so tough.
Today I wanted to give up.
This week is about self-care. I’m going to eat what I want, read what makes me happy, write something that makes me feel good, sleep when I feel I need to and avoid people and situations that bring me down.
The struggle is so real.
I was diagnosed.
I thought about my grandmother a lot. This October it will be 13 years since she passed away. I got a tattoo of her name on my wrist. It hurt but it is beautiful.
I bought Beyonce and Jay Z tickets on Kijiji. It was the first time I’ve ever bought something from the website. I met the seller at Union Station. He was wearing a suit, he looked me in the eyes and promised the tickets were real. It was one of the best concerts I’ve ever seen.
My love for Beyonce grew so much.
I wrote the best book I’ve ever written.
My mom and sister both went on trips, leaving me alone for a week.
I got migraines every weekend.
I consumed so much news about Ferguson it started affecting my mental health. Being Black means not being seen as human.
I challenged my half sister on Twitter over her thoughts on Ferguson.
I got box braids.
I read a lot of good books on my Kindle.
A three week job turned in to a four month position. I worked all summer. I am so thankful for that.
I was able to forgive but not forget.
I became obsessed with Roxane Gay.
I took a mindfulness class.
I got out of bed everyday.
It wasn’t as bad as I expected it to be.