I am less than 24 hours from officially surviving the most heart wrenching, traumatizing, emotionally charged, tumultuous, unforeseeable, devastating decade of my life (Jane Austen would disapprove of that many adjectives).
Speaking of Jane, 10 years ago I was obsessed with the movie Becoming Jane (I also had a huge crush on James McAvoy, that is until his overdramatized portrayal of mental illness in Split). Like Austen’s character in the film, I wanted to experience a great love story but then spend my life dedicated to my writing (and writing six of the greatest novels in the English language couldn’t hurt either). Continue reading
I wrote this post almost six weeks ago when I was about to embark on a positive change in my life. My computer is on the fritz so hence my absence since then. I was apprehensive about this move — the last missing piece in my effort to “live my stars” — but intuitively I knew it was the right decision for me. And now six weeks later even in the midst of this country’s current turmoil, I have never been happier. I like to think that being internally fulfilled will only enable me to make positive change externally. “Because when you’re operating from a place of wholeness and value, you see value in other people and you reinforce the belief that there’s enough to go around for all of us. So in this sense your self-worth is a service to humanity,” writes Danielle LaPorte in her book The Desire Map. Such power in that statement. Here goes…
Many folks have used the word “surreal” to describe the year that is 2016. I personally like the following quote a friend shared with me recently: This has not been a good year for women who try hard.
I’ll drink (and march) to that.
But for me, 2016 was a year of serious self-discovery. And although I wouldn’t necessarily categorize the vast majority of those weeks as a reflection of depression, most of those weeks really sucked (my elementary school English teacher would mar me for using that word but I can think of no better usage – okay maybe a few?).
Right before the actual election happened, I was focused on creative living and letting go of the things that inspired little to no creativity. I was also practicing self-compassion, allowing myself to be okay with feeling any kind of pain so that I could understand it and more easily bounce back.
There was just one problem. Continue reading
Today is World Diabetes Day, and since many people I come across often confuse Type 1 and Type 2 diabetes, I want to take this opportunity to address a few myths about Type 1 diabetes.
But before I do that, I want to reflect on the distress of this past week. I’m not much of a political activist, and I was never enthusiastic about any of the candidates this election cycle. But having come to terms with who our country just elected to represent them, I feel I need to be more vocal (at least about the issues that affect me on a personal level), and I need to be better about standing up for those whose rights are in jeopardy.
That is my personal commitment in light of these election results. I will not judge based on your vote, and I will not give into the hate that is now plaguing our country (although it was difficult not to hate the white heterosexual male this past Wednesday but that’s unfair because I know plenty of white heterosexual males who voted in my favor).
But there’s something you have to know going forward. I’ve written about it a few times on this blog but not in depth. Mostly because I don’t like to give energy to negative entities, and I don’t want to draw myself into contentious battles with fellow family members and friends. And even though I wasn’t surprised by the outcome of this election (you have to remember I grew up in a red, conservative state), I was disappointed. Continue reading
“Oh my god something shit on my bed,” I remember telling my roommate on the phone. I was living in the Little Italy neighborhood of Baltimore, and after an eight-hour day at my contractual position at the university, I came home to find a pile of poop on my $20 Target comforter. I was planning to move in a few days.
Of course upon texting both my roommates, they responded with inherent laughter. I didn’t think it was so funny. Once I removed the comforter and ruined sheets, I realized the shit had stained the actual mattress. I’d had this mattress since I moved into my first apartment four years prior. What did I know of mattress protectors?
“Did the landlord let her dogs in here? Why the hell would she let them shit on the bed and leave it?” I didn’t consider myself a bad tenant, but maybe I had done something to make her mad? I would have categorized this instance as beneath her, but I also knew she could be vindictive.
I considered throwing the comforter in the washer. God knows it had survived a few drunken vomit episodes. But nah, I was moving soon, and it didn’t seem worth the dry cleaning. I threw it in the trash. But what about the mattress? I had already sold it to the next tenant. What could I do?
I opened the window and sprayed some Febreeze. And then something came crawling out from underneath my bed, seeming completely terrified. A cat. Continue reading
It’s interesting to write a post like this on a day when I am so incredibly happy and full of energy. But I think this is also the perfect time to write such a post about a time when I was maybe not so happy, and just living in the world felt overwhelming.
Depression, anxiety, and all its root causes have been mostly missing from my life as of late, but when they do appear, I must remember days like today. I must remember that tomorrow is worth it.
On most days, it’s hard to remember how I ever got to that place before. Sometimes it’s nothing more than a chemical imbalance, hormonal changes, or blood sugar instability that sets me down that blue path. But when it does happen, it’s why I cherish days like today, for the mere fact that they exist. Continue reading
A friend of mine asked me to write down this story a while back. With baseball season coming to an end, it seemed appropriate timing. This one’s for you Drake.
I didn’t grow up a baseball-lover, although I played softball in middle school. The day I caught an outfield ball with my un-gloved hand, I decided my career in the sport was over.
There was no such thing as professional sports in my hometown, although we claim pride for being the base of the Louisville Slugger. I attended a few minor league games as a kid and still have a flag for the Louisville Redbirds (now the Louisville Bats and a Triple-A affiliate of the Cincinnati Reds or so Google tells me).
Nonetheless there were plenty of baseball lovers. The first time I came across Cal Ripken Jr. was in elementary school. I was at some classmate’s birthday party at a roller skating ring. I had a crush on another boy there. I don’t recall his name, only that he was wearing a Ken Griffey Jr. t-shirt. So I referred to him as Griffey.
Nothing ever came of it. I don’t think we once said hi to one another. All I knew was that Griffey was some famous baseball player and because he had Jr. in the name, and Cal Ripken was also famous, I used to get the two confused. Yes, baseball lovers, feel free to berate me on this one. I have no shame. Continue reading
Today the FDA approved the first-ever hybrid closed loop insulin delivery system (aka the artificial pancreas). When I read JDRF’s news release I certainly felt inspired and excited for thousands of Type 1 diabetics around the world. Continue reading