You Don't Have to Have Sex, Just Get Out in the City

So there's one little thing about me that I'm not afraid to admit:

I can be kinda lazy at times.

I'm a bit of a homebody. Okay, that's a lie; I'm a huge homebody who is perfectly happy staying home most of the time...spending time with my son, watching movies or basketball, reading or writing, playing Sims...just minding my own business. Sometimes I don't want to do much more than just lay around on my awesome sofa. And lately I've been doing a little too much of that.

Why do I say that?

Well, I've noticed recently that my writing hasn't been flowing as it usually has; it's like there's something blocking the rush of creativity to my brain. I thought it was just your run-of-the-mill writer's block that happens from time to time, but mine usually doesn't last as long as it has this time.

It's an icy night here in Georgia and I'm up late, going through a online course on copywriting (something I've been into for a while now). I'd been at it for hours and needed a break, so I un-muted the TV and watched Sex in the City for a little while. And it was like the proverbial lightbulb finally turned on.

Carrie always got the inspiration for her column from her own life. She actually went out and lived and therefore, had plenty of material.

That was my problem.

I've been holed up way too long, and my creative garden was wilting.

I've never been one to go out that much, but occasionally I'll go to a movie or take myself out to dinner, or just go somewhere and people-watch. And I have the occasional date here and there with my boyfriend (he lives out of state, otherwise it would be more often). But in my recent desire to stay to myself, I've cut myself off from the water that will make my creative garden grow. I've even started getting my groceries delivered, since I hate grocery shopping.

Bottom line, I need to get out of the house.

Now, I'm an introvert and a loner...I don't have a group of girlfriends like Carrie did. I don't like going out on the town like she does (I'm not a fan of large crowds). I don't have a shoe fetish (though I do love me some shoes). And I certainly don't go through the men like she (and her friends) did.

But that doesn't mean I can't have my own little version of Jessica in the Smaller City.

Just that little revelation has me up at almost 3:00 in the morning writing this.

So when you find yourself stumped for stuff to write about, or doing anything that involves some kind of creativity, get up and get out. Go do something. Live. Get out in the city.

But you don't have to have sex.

Unless you just want to. That's your business.


P.S. Van finally tried something new and her life changed...whether or not it was in the best way, I'll leave that up to you. You can get your copy of my book 'Take One For the Team' here and read all about it. Feel free to let me know what you think.

#loveandbooks

Depression Chose Me Out of the Lineup

Let's talk about depression for a minute.

I'll divulge this; I went through this hard in 2015 (and last year, too, though not quite as bad). In the sake of full disclosure, I was never formally diagnosed because I was too paranoid to go to a doctor, but my homegirl was medically diagnosed with it and she said I sounded just like she was. And when I read up on it, I had most of the symptoms:

• sadness
• tiredness
• trouble focusing or concentrating
• unhappiness
• anger
• irritability
• frustration
• loss of interest in pleasurable or fun activities
• sleep issues (too much or too little)
• no energy
• craving unhealthy foods
• anxiety
• isolation
• restlessness
• worrying
• trouble thinking clearly or making decisions
• poor performance at work or school
• dropping out of activities
• guilt
• suicidal thoughts or tendencies
• pain, like headaches or muscle aches
• drug or alcohol abuse

Now thankfully, I never wanted to kill myself and I never used drugs or alcohol, but other than those, I had every symptom on this list. And I had them regularly. Every day was a different mix.

When it first started hitting me, I figured it was just some elongated form of PMS that would pass sooner or later. But it didn't. My moods would switch from irritable to down-in-the-dumps in the blink of an eye, and after a while, I knew something was wrong. I've never been one to just spontaneously burst into tears, but that's exactly what I was doing. And sooner or later, some of my family started to take notice, regardless of how much I tried to hide it. I didn't want my son to see me like that so I always tried to put my game face on around him, and also I just didn't want to answer a bunch of questions about what was wrong with me.

Truth was, I didn't know.

When my sister first got wind of the change in me, she made the comment that I was "moping" around. And I'll be honest, that pissed me off. I wasn't choosing to be depressed. Who would? No one chooses this.

It chose me.

Depression had come down on me like a heavy cloak that I couldn't shake off...I ate any and everything, gained a bunch of weight, then got even more depressed about that 'cause I couldn't stand to look at my own body. I was oversleeping for everything...work, church, whatever. Other nights I would lay up for hours, wide awake and just staring into the darkness.  I never wanted to go anywhere or do anything. Heck, I didn't have the energy to do anything. I was way more emotional than I had ever been and every day was just another twenty-four hours of going through the motions.

My life was a joke, I thought. My love life was an ever bigger joke.

I'd be stuck in two jobs I didn't particularly like forever, I thought.

I was a failure that nobody wanted, I thought.

My son was going to grow up and leave me and I'd die alone and fat and unhappy while everyone else was happy and toned and thriving. I thought.

My friend pleaded with me to go to talk to a psychiatrist, and I looked into it, but I never went. I don't know if it was laziness or denial, but I just couldn't make myself do it. I did eventually confide in my pastor, who was refreshingly empathetic and encouraging. But this wasn't something I wanted to go around broadcasting, so only my friend and my sister really knew what the real deal was (well, and my pastor). I just continued to pretend like I was fine around everyone else and then go somewhere and cry or lay down. Or both.

You know how when you're going through something or dealing with something, you tend to notice it being talked about more? It was like when I started suspecting I was pregnant; all of a sudden pregnancies and babies were all people were talking about around me. Or when I bought my Nissan Altima; I started seeing them all over the place.

Well, I started noticing depression being mentioned or talked about a lot more, and it irritated me how little empathy a lot of people have for this. Like I said before, some people foolishly think depression is something folks choose or want. Or they think it's something we're supposed to just be able to snap out of.

"Get over it," they say. "You don't have it that bad."

It's not even about that; at least it wasn't for me. True enough, sometimes it can be triggered by situations, like maybe your home burning down or losing your job or something like that, but that wasn't the case for me. I have suspicions, but I don't really know what triggered mine. But it was real. And it was serious. Everybody that knows me knows I love my son more than anything on this planet, and I didn't even want to do anything with him. I didn't want to be bothered; I didn't feel like being anybody's mother. I just wanted to be left alone. But I couldn't be, and that just made me even more frustrated.

Honestly, it was also embarrassing. I didn't want to readily admit, even to those closest to me, that I was depressed. I felt like it meant I was being ungrateful. But my homegirl helped me to realize I had nothing to be embarrassed about, and it has nothing to do with being ungrateful. It's a disorder. It's a sickness. And it could happen to anybody.

So towards the end of 2015, I tried to make some changes...I started working out again, thankfully dropping some weight. I tried to be more social and get out of the house a little more (something I've never been good at). And I met my current boyfriend, who did a lot towards boosting my self-confidence and esteem (he didn't know about my depression until way later, though). After a while, I really thought I had conquered the bull...I had pushed that cloak off me. But it's not that easy or that quick, from what I've realized.

Yes, I'm better than I was. But I'm not over it. So many days, I'm still lethargic, still emotional, still irritable, still feeling hopeless...etc etc. It's hard (and frustrating) to accept. But I deal thanks to encouraging friends and family, and lots of prayer. I know nothing is too hard for God. But this is just my cross to bear.

I still might go see a therapist. Talking to a professional couldn't hurt. And it would certainly help to get to the root of what brought all this on.

Just need to get off my bum and go.

#loveandbooks

Pet Peeves, Gear-Grinders, and Other Random Annoyances

There is some stuff I just cannot stand.

We all have them...those things that just bug the stuffing out of us, regardless of how insignificant it may seem to somebody else. And I just felt like sharing some of mine with y'all tonight.

So in no particular order, here they are...

• Too much salt on my fries. (I HATE this; you're ruining my favorite food!)
• Getting interrupted when I talk. I already don't like to talk much as it is; let me say what I'm gonna say so I can hush.
• Having to repeat myself multiple times. With each time I just get more and more arrrgh.
• Small talk.
• People that let their children run around unsupervised in public places.
• Being volunteered for something without being asked first.
• People taking/moving/using my stuff without asking.
• Kids who don't respect their elders (more notably, parents who don't teach kids to respect their elders).
• Arrogance.
• Someone not keeping their word.
• Bad kissers.
• When a car cuts in front of me on the highway and then goes slow.
• When a car cuts in front of me at all when there's more than enough room behind me.
• Traffic.
• Cigarette smoke.
• Excessive cursing.
• Seeing women go after the other woman when their man is stepping out on them, instead of checking their men (and vice versa).
• All the dumb trades the Atlanta Hawks have made over the years (starting with Dominique in '94).
• Dirty nails. Just, ugh.
• Seeing teams automatically run down the floor when a shot goes up instead of going for the offensive rebound. (In basketball; I guess I shouldn't assume you know that).
• Too much cheese. On anything.

I think that's enough.

Now you know some more about me and I've gotten some stuff off my chest. Two birds.

That was fun...now I have to go check on my sick child then work on my latest novel, Emasculated. And I should probably eat some dinner, too.

#loveandbooks

• 
  

Wait for the click. Only you can hear it.

There comes a time...be it with jobs, relationships, whatever...that you just know when you're done.

You might know for a while that the end is coming, but you can't quite bring yourself to break away from it just yet...you still have some unfinished business, maybe, or you're not quite ready to transition to whatever the next thing may be.

It's like the athlete whose been in the league for twenty years and everyone wonders when he's gonna retire. Kobe. Tim Duncan. Kevin Garnett (can you tell I love the NBA?), and I'm sure countless other athletes in other sports...they all had long, (sometimes) successful careers. But as they got later on in those careers, there were the mumblings of 'how much longer is he gonna do this?'...'is he still effective/can he still contribute?'...or just flat-out 'when the heck is he gonna retire??'

Those athletes knew when it was time to hang it up. It's like a click; it goes off when it goes off. And nobody heard it but them. They reached a point where they just knew...it was time. And they could be at peace with it because they did things in their own time and didn't let anybody else dictate when their end should be.

Listen for that click. You'll know when you hear it.

I was in a relationship a few years back that I thought was the be all-end all...I just knew that I had hit the jackpot with him. We were planning to get married and I was on top of the world.

Then he dumped me. In an email, no less.

Needless to say, I was devastated. And it took me a long time to get over it. There were so many times that I thought that he had or would change his mind and come back to me, but I was always left with the proverbial egg on my face. (And I hate eggs).

Then one day, six or seven years after he dumped me, I heard that click. I knew that he and I were never gonna happen again.

I'll admit that over time, after I had begun dating again, I always held out hope. My mind would automatically compare every other man to him. I just knew, that one day, we would end up back together. But when I heard that click, I knew that was it. It was over. And I was fine with it because I knew that I had done everything I possibly could have done. And also, that the demise of the relationship wasn't on me. I had proven myself, pleaded my case, been patient, honest, loyal, faithful, etc...if he still didn't want me after all that, then I didn't need him.

It took years, but I finally heard that click.

Other people might try to tell you when you should be done with something, or when you should walk away, but no one can make that decision for you. No one can hear that click but you. You have to be the one to decide because, if you jump the gun too early, I can almost guarantee you'll regret it. There will be what-ifs, if-onlys, and coulda-shoulda-wouldas, and those suck. You don't want those.

Be at peace with your own decisions.

You know when you've done all you can do. You know when you've had enough. You know when you get to the point where the consequences or changes of leaving a situation are worth it. But only you know that.

That click is like turning out the light on the old stuff and knowing you're ready to move to the light of the new stuff. Don't let anybody try to push you out if you're not ready.


#loveandbooks

This is NOT the End of the World

Me again.

So I get a word-of-the-day on my Dictionary app, and the word for today was Syncretism.

"The attempted reconciliation or union of different or opposing principles, practices, or parties, as in philosophy or religion."

How fitting.

I don't have to say what happened today; we all know. It's been all over every social media site, news program, newspaper, water cooler conversation, and anywhere else it could be discussed. (Just in case you're just getting back from Mars or have been camped out under a rock, I'm referring to the presidential election results).

Now, I don't usually post about political stuff. And one of the reasons I don't is because it's so divisive. A lot of people don't seem to have the ability (or desire) to disagree cordially; there has to be name-calling, finger-pointing, degradation, and all this other unnecessary nonsense.

I don't care for that. So I stay out of it.

A few years ago, during President Obama's first term, I wrote a blog-say (blog/essay) titled 'I Don't Like Politics.' The gist of the blog-say was that I despise all the mud-slinging, diversion from the issues, and pointless minutiae that clogs most electoral campaigns. All of the hatred spewed towards President Obama, and for what reason? What has he really done to deserve that? And he's still getting it (remember the people with the President Obama mask and the noose at the University of Wisconsin football game just last month?).

And now, the same thing is happening again...and this time, it's not only towards the president-elect, a lot of it has been from the president-elect.

There is no syncretism. And there probably won't be.

You would think that things like opposing police brutality, discrimination, racism, unequal pay, etc. would be things that we could all agree on, regardless of what political party we sided with. But shockingly (or not), that's not the case.

All day on Facebook today, I've seen arguments, debates, calls for action, prayers, long soliloquies about how we're now doomed, and everything else. And while I am certainly not happy about how the election turned out...I'm kinda over it.

I voted. The person I voted for didn't win. It is what it is. That's not to say I don't care, 'cause I do. I'm in this country. But I simply choose to expend my energy on things I can control, and that's raising my son, writing my books, building my business, expanding my knowledge, and living my life as I was before last night.

My trust is in God, not the president. Regardless of who it may be.

So no, we probably won't have syncretism any time soon. People seem to be more divided than ever, and the divide will probably widen before it narrows. But, in my opinion at least, this is not the end of the world. We've survived a lot of things in this country, and we will survive this.

Until next time...

#lovewords

13-Year-Old Cold Water

I spent a wonderful few days down in Delray Beach, Florida this past week. It was more business than personal, but since I don't get many vacations...hey, two birds.

It was a long nine-hour drive from Georgia. Endless stretches of highway with nothing to keep me company but a few CDs, my own imagination (I'm sure I'm not the only person that talks to themselves when they're alone in the car) and the fun of trying to find a decent radio station when the local one faded out. I kind of regretted not renewing my satellite radio subscription.

Anyway, I made it down there safe and sound...my room wasn't ready when I got there, but thankfully it was just in time for me to throw on some more decent clothes for registration. I didn't know a soul. And I am usually not very good in situations where I don't know anyone. I'm quiet enough as it is, but put me around a bunch of strangers and I'm as withdrawn as a mouse avoiding the broom.

But the wonderful people at AWAI (American Writer's & Artists Inc.) and all of the attendees were awesome. I've never met a more kind, genuine, welcoming, invested, generous group of people. We were there for a copywriting bootcamp, and that's exactly what it was. We hit the ground running and had pretty much 12-hour days until everything wrapped on Saturday. Three-and-a-half days of constant learning.

I loved every minute of it, though.

Finally, I'm feeling like I'm on the path towards making some much-needed changes in my life. Stress has had a chokehold on me and I felt it loosening with every day that passed. And by the time I headed back home on Sunday morning, I felt so full of energy; my mind was churning and burning with ideas and plans and strategies the whole way back. It was thrilling.

I felt so alive...so invigorated...so inspired. Nothing was going to stop me from really making a move towards the kind of life I wanted. I couldn't wait to get home and really get the ball rolling. Nothing was going to get in my way!

And the first obstacle I got to tackle when I got home?

"So, Mom, what's for dinner?"

Seriously.

Talk about a splash of cold water in the face. I mean...he's chilling on the couch when I walk in and mind you, there were other people here that he could have gotten dinner from. But of course, I was the only one who could pull up an app and order a pizza, 'cause that's all I did. I hadn't even taken my shoes off yet, much less unpacked or gotten the creases out of my body from being in the car so long.

And may I add that the apartment was in a little bit of a mess. And he's just sitting on his phone in the middle of it like it's nirvana.

That was a little bit of a sail-sucker (and, it kinda pissed me off a little bit). But what can you do? He's 13. All he cares about is basketball and pizza. The order depends on the day.

So now, I've shaken that cold water off and dove back in. Updating my LinkedIn profile, doing research, outlining everything I was thinking about on the drive home. I should be asleep because I do start the 9-5 in a matter of hours but I'm pumped. Progress is addictive.

And anyway, Mr. Cold Water is the main reason I'm doing all of this. :)

Take that Mental Rest Day. Or Week.

Hey y'all! I'm just getting home from work and wanted to be sure I got this out tonight, especially since I didn't post one last week.

Which is an excellent lead-in to what I'm going to talk about today.

Last week I took a much-needed and much-valued vacation down in Florida. It was four wonderful days of doing absolutely nothing; no work, no working out, no studying, no writing or reading...nothing. I literally laid around, sleeping and watching television, while my wonderful boyfriend brought me food and encouraged my laziness. It was heaven.

Yeah, I took my laptop with me, with the intention of using it for nothing more than watching Modern Family DVDs or playing Sims. But I didn't even do that. Never even took it out of the bag.

I already know I'm not the only one that has a lot on their plate; I'm a single mother (divorced), I work two jobs, I write books, I'm currently studying and honing my skills in copywriting, and I still do massage therapy whenever it's requested of me. This is all among whatever else may come up (including having a son that plays AAU basketball, so that means practices three times a week and games that take up a good chunk of the weekend). So time to just sit around doing nothing is at a premium. Heck, I have to take a day off if I wanna sleep in...I work six days a week, my only off day being Sunday, and I get up then to go to church. I know there are people who probably have more to deal with but heck, this is my batch and it's enough.

So needless to say, I needed a little break. As we all do from time to time. My mind and body needed rest and I took it. At the last minute I had put the outline for the novel I'm currently working on into my laptop bag, but that was an unnecessary and wasted formality; as I mentioned, I never used my laptop at all. The bag stayed in the same spot against the wall the entire time I was there.

I had already planned to not do much the day after I got there, anyway; I was going to sleep in and just relax. But I figured after that, I would at least go to the hotel gym and get a workout in. An hour a day, tops. But nope. I couldn't make myself get up and it didn't take long for me to give up trying to make myself get up. It's not like I get many vacations like that so I was going to take full advantage of it. And I did.

After four luxurious days of lounging, it was time to come back home and get back to the regularly scheduled program. And while it would have been nice to have a couple more days down there, I felt grateful and refreshed and rejuvenated, and anxious to get back to my studies and my writing. I could come at things that I had been kind of stumped on with a clear and renewed mind. That time away from it just made me all the more excited to get back to it, when it came time to. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and all that.

So many people are stuck on this go-go-go, gotta stay moving, I'll sleep when I'm dead mentality (don't even get me started on that). And while it's certainly great to stay productive, we all need to rest sometimes. We need to give our minds and our bodies a break. Some people don't need as long a break as others; mine was four days...some people might only need one. Or even just a few hours. But it's necessary. We can only rely on coffee and Red Bull and 5 Hour Energy (or in my case, Crunk Juice) for so long before even those things become ineffective. Eventually, your body will take the rest it needs on its own.

I know what I'm talking about with this. Back when I was in massage therapy school, I got to where I was doing so much and not getting enough rest that it eventually caught up to me...I was working a full-time job, going to school at night and on the weekends, working in the massage clinic every possible day that I could (I was determined to be the first one in my class to finish all my required hours), not to mention still writing. And of course, I had my son and whatever else that was going on at the time. And when I tell you I eventually crashed, I mean it. My body just shut down and I went into this coma-like sleep for two days. So I certainly learned my lesson about trying to do too much; when I need rest, I take it.

I hope you do, too. You don't have be a total bum about it like I was last week, but allow yourself to chill out sometimes; it's good for you.


Now, I have a presentation to work on...I appreciate you!

#loveandbooks