Sometimes the load gets to heavy to carry. The weight of the world rests on my shoulders and I feel as though no one can see my pain. I struggle to maintain my sanity when my world turns upside down. To be able to distinguish between fact and fiction when I’m looking through the glass and trying to find meaning.
Is it supposed to be hard? Am I supposed to know what to do with my life? How can I get out of this situation I put myself in? When will the pain end? Does anyone see me crying? Why can’t people stop being so dang selfish and offer to just be there?
All those thoughts overwhelm me and the voices start to tell me that no one is there and that it is all on me. I don’t know if it’s true. I’m grasping for something to hold on to because I can’t seem to get my bearing. I need to find solace. I need to find my strength and regain my balance.
Black women are supposed to be strong. We’re not supposed to show the cracks in our armor. We are supposed to heal. A mental health break is for fools they whisper. Pick up your armor and keep fighting the voices yell. I can’t. I’m too tired. I can’t keep fighting. Am I having a mental breakdown?
I need to get a grip. So, I place my weary body in bed and reach for my Ipad. I need to read. To lose my mind in the pages of someone else’s fiction. To stop trying to fix my life when I can’t stop crying. I click on the Kindle app and read and soon I feel my pain ease.
My mind subsides. The voices become a whisper and I find solace in the pages of an author’s pain. The characters become kindred spirits and I see color. Color is calming. It claims my spirit and tells me that this too shall pass.
I like color. I like reading. I like being. Right here. With you. In this fantasy.