Don't Leave Me This Way

I know, I know. I've not been blogging as much as I should be. Actually, I have been but I've been blogging privately a.k.a. writing in my physical diary. I've got a lot going on in my personal life right now that I'm working through. In addition, I'm preparing to go back to school in 16 days (yes, I'm actually counting the days), mentoring two new people at work, working on getting a new position at work, getting my sons back into a routine (they just came back from their summer break with their dad), and trying to remember to breathe through it all.

When I sit down and actually think about everything I have going on. And, I mean everything. Work, school, parenting, dance, learning the basics of swimming, biking, and easing back into running (though I'm not running right now because of plantar fasciitis), it's incredibly easy for me to get overwhelmed and start shutting down. So, I start backing away and turning inwardly which causes me a lot of sleepless nights. Or nights in which I fall asleep, but I can't stay asleep. This is one of the many ways in which my anxiety manifests itself. Which is when I find really interesting things, get most of my creative deals, or random ass songs (that are absolutely amazing) play over and over in my head. Hence this blog post's title. Because all night long from 3am until 5:17am (when my mind finally shut the fuck up) Thelma Houston's Don't Leave Me This Way played over and over and over. And here is it for your listening pleasure to suck you in...

Because what better way to deal with anxiety than with a thumping ass soundtrack to back it up? Boom, you're welcome.

So yes, in addition to all the other stuff I deal with, I also live with anxiety. It comes in waves, but sometimes those waves come hard and fast and before I can prepare I've been hit with a tsunami. I actually like to name my tsunamis like the weather man does. For me, giving a name to them takes away some of the fear and panic. So the one I'm currently dealing with is Tsunami Galenda. Kudos to you, if you get the name reference. The other night I saw this posted by one of my friends and I thought to myself, goodness someone finally fucking gets it!

Which made me feel really good and helped calmed me down. I love that I have more friends who are starting to get mental health. Or, have always gotten it and are starting to speak up more about it. I'm not sure why the tide starting turning or even when with the media, but it's starting to feel like I'm seeing something almost every day about some kind of mental illness. And, not just the labeling of killers as mentally ill or making fun of Charlie Sheen.  But legitimate awareness of "hey, some people are dealing with this and here's what you can do to try to help instead of being a dick and calling a woman who is upset bipolar or a man who is depressed a pussy." Dare I say in addition to trying to understand there is more sympathy? In any case, I like what I'm seeing for the most part. Especially the chart above (thanks Chera for that).

Eventually, I'll start blogging consistently again. And, yes I'm working through Tsunami Galenda. Battering down the hatches to minimize damage and seeking support from my personal Red Cross team. They won't leave me this way. And neither will I.

Its Easier to Get Discouraged than Motivated

It seems every Tuesday I spend an hour chatting with my therapist like we're old girlfriends catching up on our lives as if we haven't seen each other in months instead of just last week. The hour or so we spend together is definitely one of the highlights of every week. I know that sounds crazy considering most people see a therapist to help them get over or deal with an issue. Not me! Well, I do have my issues. But most of the time, I'm seeing my therapist because she's someone I can openly dialogue with about everything without fear of rejection. You see, that's my biggest personal problem. Fear of rejection. Yes, I know everyone fears rejection at some point or another. Not getting the job, not getting the girl, not getting the answer you wanted...etc.

The difference for me is my fear of rejection cripples me at time. Which a lot of people find hard to believe because, well, I'm Makita. I'm fearless. I grab life by the horns and ride the hell out of it. I kick ass and take names later. While that's true to a degree, it's not the absolute truth. Tied in with my fear of rejection is my fear of success. What the fuck is fear of success? I know, I ask myself that all the time. It's not like I think I'm going to become some kind of overnight celebrity. Actually, let me back up a moment. I fear putting my creativity out into the world and opening up myself for public debate. Case in point, publishing a book. More specifically, the book I've been writing for the past 5 years that details my divorce and how I got through it, dating as a single mom, parenting male children, and other stuff that happens in my life. I fear my writing--my life--being rejected. Maybe my life isn't as awesome as I think it is. Why would someone want to read about me? I'm nobody...

And on the flip side, I worry about it becoming a huge success. Believe it or not, I'm actually really shy. I'm comfortable speaking up, but I'm uncomfortable having a light shined on me. In January, I ran...okay I wogged that shit (walk/jog combo)...and it was a damn struggle getting through that last mile. A struggle!!! I was crying, ready to give up, saying "fuck this shit" in my head and it was all captured on film. Yep, my vulnerability was captured on film by one of the event photographers. Now don't get me wrong, I'm proud of finishing that race. Absolutely thrilled every time I walk past my medal mirror and see that medal smiling back at me, but that moment of vulnerability? I'm not ashamed of it. But it did cause me to have a mild panic attack when it went viral. I was fortunate to have a wonderful sports writer write an article about me because the photo inspired her. And let's be honest here. It's better to have good press than bad press. Her article was great and it went viral. And it a matter of hours I had an incredibly full inbox from strangers around the country telling me how I've inspired them. I know...what a terrible problem to have Makita, inspiring people. Pfft!!! Yet, I was overwhelmed. The success of having completed a half marathon and inspiring people overwhelmed me.

So, I don't even try most of the time to go after what I want. Instead, I get discouraged and I let my motivation to do something get drowned by fears. I like to think that I have an authenticity in my voice. A uniqueness unlike anyone else. I don't make shit up. Why would I? Actually, how could I in this day and age? That authenticity scares me. But it also makes me want to do something. It makes me want to speak up more and to tell my story(ies). I just can't seem to conquer those damn fears though and just do it.

But, I'm trying. Hence the new Facebook page. Sometimes I'm just bursting with so much energy and so much to say that I can't wait to get to my computer and blog all about it. But, more often than not, by the time I get to my computer I've gone down the path of discouragement and no longer have the energy to do it. So I'm going to try to FB blurbs and random thoughts in an effort to stay motivated. Because I am pretty much ALWAYS on FB. It's worth a shot. My goal is to not silence myself. I have a voice. It's pretty funny. It's also pretty loud. Most importantly, it deserves to be heard.

Run. Read. Repeat. Series #1 - Running and Reading in New England

So over the weekend, I came up with this idea to combine my love of reading with my growing love of running and do a blog series on it. But, not just a series on hey, I love to read and run so here's what I'm reading. No, this will be more of a travel series about places I run in different states/areas and all the cool little libraries I come across and a little bit about things I'm currently reading. A few months ago, I decided I was going to nerd out and do the nerdiest thing ever--compile a list of libraries in the United States I want to visit and then go visit them. I came up with this idea before I started running. I know that sounds nerdy to a lot of people, but to me that's what I believe Heaven to be like. A non ending visit to as many bookstores and libraries as possible. Goodness, just giving about all the places I will go (shout out to Dr. Seuss on that one) is giving me goosebumps.

Anyway, now that I'm a runner. Wait, a minute. I'M a runner? I'm A runner? I'm a RUNNER? ... I'M A RUNNER! Yeah, I'm a runner. How bout that? Anyway, now that I'm a runner I've decided to combine the two. More specifically, I want to be a half marathoner. The kind who travels to different cities to run half marathons who just happens to also visit libraries. Isn't that just the bees knees! No? Just me? That's fine. I know y'all will love it.

So since I decided to start this, I decided to back up to last month and have New England be my first post in the series. So without further ado, Running and Reading in New England...

Last month, I went on a retreat with thirteen other women to Charlemont, MA where we visited Shelburne Falls, MA along with Vermont and New York (the last two very briefly). This was a chance to connect with other women walking their own paths in life that crossed mine. More importantly, it was a chance to reconnect with myself. And, I did. I can't even begin to describe how absolutely beautiful and breathtaking it was there.

Gorgeous, right?! I know! And, I had the most pleasure of being able to run through this beautiful. This is what I envision when someone says "God's country." The beauty of it was overwhelming. The weather--at least the first two days-- was incredibly crisp and invigorating. Afterward, it became a little muggy and kind of felt like I was at home, except surrounded by the most beautiful trees ever. Which made me have an "A-ha moment" as Mama Oprah likes to call them. Being surrounded by such beauty, reminded me that we all have a season. Like the leaves on the trees we change, we fall down, and we grow back. More importantly, we have good strong roots to help ground us and weather any storm. I felt alive when running there. 

The second

I wish I had gotten a chance to run more. I did two runs. One was incredibly great and just made me feel alive, but it was COLD! I started my run as the sun began rising and it was incredible. I regret not having my phone with me to take pictures. But, it wasn't about stopping and taking photos. It was about reconnecting with myself and getting a chance to "run it out." I mentioned before I was depressed before the retreat. Truth be told, I'm still dealing with it, but I feel like it's not so heavy anymore. That run gave me that. My run gave me clarity and with each mile I ran, my life path seemed clearer to me again. 

One thing I really wished we had had time for was to go inside this library we stumbled upon. I don't regret it though because I know I'll be back. Plus, we went to so many indie bookstores that it would be silly of me to be upset over that one little library. I did get a picture though and pretend to put

something in the book return box.


 On day 1,  the first thing I noticed as we were going into town to have lunch was Raven Used Books. It smelled like old books, coffee, and dust. Exactly, what I believe Heaven to smell like. It was very difficult for me not to be the weirdo breathing deeply as if I were hyperventilating in an effort to smell all the books. But, I controlled myself and only managed to by one book for my middle son who loves books as much as his mom.

While I was there I finished this really great memoir titled Son of A Gun by Justin St. Germain. I won't go into detail to avoid giving it away, but it's well written story by the son of a woman who was killed. It's poignant, thought provoking, and definitely a good read. I also read a few chapters of Clash of Kings by George R.R. Martin and the November issue of O Magazine. What can I say? I'm a girl who likes to read.

It's Not Being Polite, It's Being Who They Are

So something has been niggling at the corner of my brain since yesterday afternoon when I picked up my two youngest from a birthday party. It was the first birthday party I have ever dropped them off and not stayed. I know! I've never done that. Ever. I've always stayed to talk with the other parents and keep an eye on my kiddos. But, they're getting older and I trusted the environment so I felt okay about letting them go alone, especially since they were surrounded by people who have become a part of my surrogate family.

When I picked them up yesterday, one of the other moms came up to me. I'd never seen this woman so when she came stalking up to me, I almost went into bitch mode expecting her to start some shit. For all I knew, one of my boys had made her kid cry or something. Not that I have boys who do that, but I'd never left them alone at a party so I prepared for the worst and hoped for the best. Color me surprised when she started raving about my middle son who gave up his seat at the table for her daughter. I wasn't surprised he had given up his seat. I was surprised at how floored this woman was by it. She went on and on and on... that I honestly though this was going to happen:

And then she asked me: how do you do it? How you teach boys to be polite? I can't even make my son not hit a girl.  And then I gave her this face:

After giving her that face for a good five to ten seconds (partly because she wants to make him polite and he hits girls), I told her I didn't know how I taught the boys how to be polite. Seriously, I don't. I can't explain our lifestyle. Yes, I taught the boys how to say please and thank you, open doors and pull out chairs for girls. But their politeness isn't something I taught them or make them do. Their father and I set examples when they were young and they picked up on it. The fact that my Seany insisted the girl have his chair, now that blew me away. Can you say proud mama moment?

But it was crazy, it was like she wanted me to write out a step by step instruction booklet on how to treat others. I mean, I could...a guide to treating people right and not dealing with their bitchassness either...hmm...

So anyway, all that has been niggling at the corner of my mind. When did we become a society that being polite, courteous, mindful, etc is the exception and not the norm? Why was this woman so surprised by my son's normal behavior? Why wasn't she baffled at the grown ass men who weren't giving up their seats for the moms juggling babies in one arm and a toddler on the other? Why was that behavior accepted as the norm and not the exception?

Either way, my sons are growing up to be the kind of young men I've always been proud of.

I Know Why I Run, I Know Why I Run With a Group

So today, I had that moment. That moment that most of us who run with a group experience at least once or twice or even a whole bunch of times when they run with a group. That "this is why I run with a group" moment. Today, I did the Walk Run Lead 5K with my run group, Black Girls Run. I came in last, dead last. Let that sink in for a moment. It hit me right around mile 2 that I wouldn't be finishing within my normal time frame of 40 minutes or so. And, I wanted to cry. This wasn't my first 5K, but my body was acting like it. There weren't a lot of participants so it was very clear to me that I was behind. Way behind.

There was one other woman (not with BGR) left on the trail. We were both keeping an eye on each other, slowing down, speeding up, staying in it together. Her name was Martina and she had been left behind by her husband. We quickly bonded and at that point, I stopped giving a damn about not hitting my time. We talked, we laughed, we commiserated. We enjoyed ourselves. We finished together, holding hands, laughing and smiling. We finished strong, we finished together with the help of my BGR sisters. Keisha came back and walked the last leg of the run with us. Ayeesha was at the finish line waiting. Others all greeted me when I made it over to where they were, telling me how good a job I did.

My group (along with Martina) made me feel good about my run. It wasn't about how fast I went or how long it took. It was about the fact that I made the commitment to complete it and stuck with it. It was the fact that I got my ass up on a Saturday morning at a quarter to dark thirty and went out for the run. I know who I am. I know that if I hadn't had my girls supporting me out there, I would have cried on my drive home, mad at myself for not being able to get out of my own head. It's funny because I was just talking with one of the girls before the race about how I left a different run group because I didn't feel supported. Whenever I would drag in last, no one was cheering me on for finishing. No one came back to run it out with me. No one smiled and patted me on the back. Instead, I felt judged and guilty for holding everybody up. There were many days I left that run group on the verge of tears because I felt like the kid in PE class that everyone groaned about when that kid was put on their team.

I didn't feel that way today. I've never felt that way with BGR! Whether they're cheering me on virtually or in person, they've got my back. I smiled on the way home as I thought of all the girls who passed me on the run cheering me on and giving me thumbs up. From "the turnaround is just up there" to "you got this girl" to the "keep it going chica" to the "get it girl", I felt loved and supported. I felt happy to be a part of this group. Even when I saw other BGR girls who weren't running the race, but were getting in their own runs, they encouraged me to keep going too.

That level of support is why I run in a group. That level of support is why I left smiling. That level of support is why I didn't feel like a failure. Because, I'm not. I'm an amazing woman and those women made me feel every ounce of that amazing today. These incredibly awesome women helped me learn how to be okay with where I finished and be proud of the fact that I finished.