Charlotte, NC, USA

The Feeling...

April 2, 2019

 

I thought I was growing but… maybe I’m not. I had someone tell me today that the things I do are corny and that I’m full of bad energy so what did I do? Of course I went off and wanted to understand how I could be full of bad energy when throughout the ups and downs, my life overall seems to be great. Key word here… SEEMS.

 

 

Being told about yourself by multiple people saying the SAME thing is a clear sign that it’s time for a G check moment. Because I am committed to growing and doing so in a healthy manner, instead of beating on myself about the fact that I was in yet another negative exchange of words, I decided to feel what I felt. I just wasn’t ready for what I felt.

 

 

Some know, some don’t, but there was a time when I did not want to be a living, breathing, human on this earth. I felt unworthy of love and I was disgusted with who I was as a person. As I read back the text message telling me that I was negative I began to cry and even worse, I began to have that “feeling”.

 

 

It’s the feeling that I’ve lived with since I was 7 years old being given perms and combs on my birthday instead of  barbies but being told I’m vain when I took too long in the mirror growing up.  It’s the feeling I’ve had to live with every time I finished performing sexual acts  as a  5 year old only to go home and get my ass whooped for reading sex novels.  It’s the feeling of being told you’re too skinny by the man you love even though you’re losing weight because you’re depressed. The feeling of being called ugly by your family members. The feeling of crying out for help yet nobody will listen. The feeling of being misunderstood.

 

 

I know that I’m a handful and then some but I also know that every single person who has chose to judge me for the way I turned out is the reason I’m this ridiculous ball of unfiltered energy as I type this. There's really no love out here for the damaged Black woman. For the hurting Black Woman. For the ANGRY Black woman. I thought I was okay you know? “Fuck what people think about you Imani”…. That’s what they say to me but that’s not what I say to myself.

 

When I’m talking to myself I’m crying my eyes out because I hate being so hard to love. I hate being so angry about so many things that nobody will ever care about except for ... me. I’m easy to fall in love with and I make friends easily but once the layers of who I am begin to peel back that’s when the people in my life fall back.

 

 

I’m proud of myself because although nobody cared enough to help me up no matter how many times I’ve begged, God and I did the work to push me past the point where I fall victim to the “feeling” and I pick up those pills again. 

 

 So now here I am. Pretending to be okay, telling everyone else it’s going to be okay, all while making a skeptical of myself in process. The only difference now is that I’ve learned to love what I hate about myself and be okay with being a skeptical to others who just lack the compassion to understand that some people have a lot to overcome before they become the kind of person you think is worthy of your respect. Although I hate the fact that I’m a victim of traumatic events, I love myself for wearing my scars like Armour and shining no matter who thinks I’m extra, lame, or whatever other thoughts make me do Instagram rants justifying my actions because I just want to feel loved not misunderstood.

 

Sure, I’m opinionated, corny, negative, crazy, the list goes on. But that list does not define me and that’s the part about me that I’m working on understanding. I seek validation from people who are committed to misunderstanding me and I don’t focus on the ones around me that do. I have people that lift me up but it takes one comment from someone who doesn’t think I’m great to make me think that I’m the person some people say that I am.

 

 

It’s hard dealing with the fight in your mind and it’s harder doing it alone. I hate talking to people about things that I’ve gone through because when things go left they throw it in my face. “That’s why you have no friends”, “that’s why your best friend left you”, “that’s why you don’t have a relationship with your family” THAT’S WHY THAT’S WHY THAT’S WHY. But what is “that”? Circumstances you couldn’t control effecting your mental? Lacking the resources for quite some time to help myself mentally?

 

I don’t want to be the girl known for outbursts and not being in control of her emotions but that’s who I am and it’s not by choice. I live with a level of anxiety and depression that I would not wish on my worst enemy. I wake up feeling like Beyonce but cry by 12:00 because someone said I’m this is or that and it is the worst part about  me. I hate the fact that I give everyone else the power to make me hurt but right now it’s where I am.

 

It’s where I was as a little girl when my innocence was taken.

I’m an opinionated loud mouth because I never got to speak my truth until I broke the chains of the trauma that has kept me locked into pattern of  mental instability up until last year.  Maybe this is just one of those days. Maybe I don’t really feel the way I do. But right now I’m crying my eyes out asking God why I still don’t feel fulfilled in certain areas. Why don’t I have a bunch of people that I know love and adore me? Why do I feel like I don’t when I do? Why do I care? Why am I me? Why do people who don’t care about what I told them I’m fighting have the power to make me cry? Why do  I care about people who don’t care?

 

That was a glimpse into the mind of Imani on this Tuesday. I hope that you haven’t decided to judge me too. I won’t be this girl forever and I hope that you get to meet the woman God intended me to be one day. Day by day, I’ll get there. Today is just not one of those days.

 

 

 

Sending Love & Light,

 

Imani Blaize 

 

 

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