I didn’t feel like getting up this morning. The fog hasn’t returned and I’m not sad again. I just didn’t want to get out of bed. I was comfortable and warm. I’m not sure if I’m sad or not. I’m still waking up so I don’t really know what I am. I was really happy yesterday and my nerves were solid. Except for one mini anxiety attack but it was so small it barely happened.
Spent the whole evening with my boyfriend and his friends. We all went on a car cruise together. It was a beautiful day and they took a lot of pictures with their nice cars. I kind of wish it was just my boyfriend and I. Or at least add another girl to the mix. I felt just a little lonely with him talking about cars with them. The day was so gorgeous I didn’t let it get to me.
Today is still beautiful. But I have to catch up on some writing so I can’t enjoy it like yesterday. Speaking of writing, planning these poems are making me a bit raw. I’m reopening old wounds so I can bleed over the pages of The Fog. My old anxieties and insecurities are resurfacing. I have to fight with these demons so I can banish them forever. But it’s making me kind of numb. I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.
I still haven’t gone to therapy or talked to my parents about anything yet. They know I’m writing a book of poetry but they have no Idea what it’s about. I’ve shown my mom some of my poems so she can probably guess what the collection will be about. I’m not sure if I should tell them before or after therapy. I don’t even know where to start.
Look at these marvelous pictures though!
It was a beautiful day without the fog. I continue to live for days like these.
Sometimes the world is a fucked up place. And sometimes there ain’t shit we can do about it. We are forced to play the cards were dealt. And we have to struggle. But you know what? The world is a constantly evolving place. Ideas change. Tradition’s change. People change too.
There are people out there that help others fight their demons. Some are even fighting their own. And that’s the most beautiful thing about this world and humanity. Stay strong and keep your head above the fog for as long as you can. And always try to love yourself first. Remember that there is someone out there that will listen, be your shoulder to cry on, and love you.
“Gotta have opposites, light and dark and dark and light, in painting. It’s like in life. Gotta have a little sadness once in awhile so you know when the good times come. I’m waiting on the good times now.” – Bob Ross
I appreciate the days without the fog distorting the beauty of the world. I’m always worrying when it’ll come back though. I try not to. But it hangs in the back of my thoughts. I keep it in a small locked box. Sometimes the fog opens it but on these days I’m strong enough to keep locking it and return to my day. I enjoy this strength. This happiness. This beauty. I wish I can keep it going forever. But the fog is only sleeping. It needs its breaks too. This is a constant battle after all.
The trees are a bit greener. The birds sing more beautifully. The sun seeps into my skin and I glow. I smile for real this time. My laugh robust. I share this happiness with others. I walk with purpose. Head high with confidence.
It feels good. I feel good. I will cherish this moment all day.
I started relearning the literary terms for writing. Specifically for writing poetry. I haven’t found a video that’s easy for me to follow. One that doesn’t put me to sleep. I feel like I’m back in school. I hate that. So boring and over complicated. But I have to push myself through it. Or do I? Do I really need to relearn literary tools to be a published poet? That’s something I should do some research on. I’m going to take a break from learning meter and rhythm for now and turn my attention to self-publishing. There’s something I never thought I would be researching in high school. It’s funny how your life changes in a few years.
I’m going to take a break from learning meter and rhythm for now and turn my attention to self-publishing. There’s something I never thought I would be researching after high school. It’s funny how your life changes in a few years. One moment you think you know your direction then life throws loops at you and you’re way off course. You think you want to go this way but you see the road ahead and decide its not for you. You watch someone on their road and you want to follow them. Life can be amazing at times.
Life can be beautiful. The way you change throughout your life is beautiful. Even hardships can be beautiful. Because they build character and flaws. The fact that no one is born perfect but most of us find that someone that thinks we are perfect the way we are, is beautiful. Humans are beautiful. The mind of a human being is beautiful. The way our bodies work without much effort is beautiful. Even the way we adapt to new environments and ways of living is beautiful. I wish everyone can see the beauty inside all of humanity. The world would be a much better place to live if we all accepted that.
I went way off topic… Anyway, I’m going to learn how to self-publish.
Is it weird for me to still love how I look even when I’m depressed? I steal a glance or two of myself in the mirror and think “well at least I’m still beautiful.” That’s the power of self-love. Also the power of my boyfriend’s love. I can’t give myself all the credit, he has a part to play in my self-acceptance. We’ve been together since 2014 and he managed to make me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. He tells me almost everyday that I am beautiful and he loves me. But with depression, you would think that I would hate my looks while I’m depressed.
I didn’t always love the way I looked of course. Like every human being. I hated my dark skin and “nappy” hair. I hated how big my nose looked on my small face. I hated that my eyes were dark brown. I wanted them to be hazel or green. I hated (still kind of don’t like) how thin (underweight) I am. I’ve always enjoyed being short though. I hate cooking while being short. It turns into a workout. I wasn’t like most girls growing up. I wasn’t obsessed with using makeup to “enhance” my beauty. I did cover up my “nappy” hair using weaves and chemicals. But that was the only thing I did to change my appearance so I can at least like something about myself.
I hated that I didn’t look like a “normal black girl.” I had (still have) no curves, small breasts, and a small butt. I was obsessed over this and often googled “how to grow boobs” or “how to make my butt bigger.” I was always comparing my growth to the woman and girls in my family and thought “there must be something wrong with me.” Plus I use to stuff my bra. But that was in middle school and I stopped after watching that episode of “As Told By Ginger.” I did not want to be embarrassed like that so I stopped as quickly as I started.
Like most people I grew up with people telling me I’m beautiful the way I am. Also like most people I didn’t start believing it until my sophomore or junior year of high school. I stopped wearing weaves and learned tried to learn how to take care of my natural hair. I’m still learning but my depression makes me “lazy.” It was a slow acceptance of my own beauty but I am glad that it’s almost complete.
I love my eyes, the color, the shape. Yeah, they aren’t unique but they are mine. I no longer think my nose is too big. In fact, it’s the perfect size for my face. I am obsessed with my dark skin now. I love how it glows under the sun. I love how thin I am but I do think I should put on more weight so I can be healthier. I love my small breast. I don’t have to wear bras or worry about back pain. And I love my natural hair. I need to take care of it. It’s currently breaking off and dry because I don’t do anything to it. In order for my to accept my natural beauty, I need to take better care of my hair and weight.
This probably won’t cure my depression but it might make it easier to deal with. I can not imagine going to the mirror and hating myself through and through. Not able to see the beauty in me. I am grateful that I have accepted looks thus far.