Heavy

September 2008

Heavy is the crown that comes with trying to be a good employee, wife and mother. I am failing miserably. There is not one day that goes by that I don’t see the looks of disgust as I leave on time to get my son. I have no help. I am a mother first.

H

I chose to be a mother. But, apparently I’m not afforded the same privileges as my co-workers that have children. I have to choose work over mothering. How the hell can I do that? Why would I do that?

I can’t help that I’ve been out on leave for the last 6 months and that as soon as I get back to work, my husband is now sick. I have a strict schedule. It’s the only thing that makes sense about the situation…

  • I get up at 5 a.m.
  • I shower
  • I get dressed
  • I pack Munch’s diaper bag
  • I leave the house at 5:45 a.m.
  • I arrive at day care at 5:58 a.m.
  • At 6:01 a.m. I am handing him to the teacher in the infant room
  • I leave at 6:05 a.m.
  • I arrive at work at 7:30 a.m.
  • I leave at 4:30 p.m.
  • I arrive at day care at 5:58 p.m.
  • I leave for the hospital to see my husband
  • I arrive at 7:00 p.m.
  • I stay until 10:00 p.m.
  • I get home by 10:45 p.m.
  • I get the baby bathed and in the bed.
  • I crawl in the bed at 11:45 p.m.
  • I sleep to start it all over again.

Heavy. My life is so heavy right now. But, I will choose my son over it all. I just need to work to make sure that the money continues to roll in. We have bills. We need two incomes. I am so very tired. No one understands that there is no choice but me. I watch other people afforded the opportunities that I don’t seem to have.

I sigh.

Adjust this heavy crown. Do it all again. Each and every day. Why? Because I’m a mother. I’m expected to figure it the hell out.

 

This post was part of the A2Z challenge and the letter “H” is for Heavy. My posts will be written as a journal style for the challenge and will be on the theme: Mothering While Black. I hope you enjoyed it.

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

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God

July 2013

God! God help me! I can’t breathe God! The pain is insurmountable. I feel like I’m struggling. The devil is on my heels and I can’t seem to shake him.

God I know that I haven’t been faithful in following your lead. I know that I have chosen to live a life that you didn’t want. I know God. I know.

But, God! This pain is smothering me like a wet blanket on a hot fire. Take it away God! Please! I’m walking around like a zombie. My son is holding me as I cry myself to sleep.

God, I never knew life after wanting peace could hurt so much. Help me God! Help me move past my pain so that I can be strong. Munch needs me. I need him. You have never forsaken me God.

I must keep pressing on. You saved me God! Do it again!

Have mercy on me God! Have mercy.

G

This post was part of the A2Z challenge and the letter “G” is for God. My posts will be written as a journal style for the challenge and will be on the theme: Mothering While Black. I hope you enjoyed it.

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

Motivational Monday Moment – 03.26.18

Today’s Motivational Monday Moment was inspired by this post that states “Sometimes the strongest people in the morning are the people who cried all night.” I love this quote because I’ve been there. I’ve cried all night only to wake in the morning knowing that I had to get up and get going because I still needed to run the race that I am in.

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The thing is that it is okay to cry. It’s okay to cry all night. Heck, I’ve done it. Been there. Multiple times. But, I get up each morning, adjust my crown and keep it moving. Nothing is going to stop me from participating in this thing called life.

See, life is hard. Truthfully, it can be the best of times or the worst of times depending on the season that you find yourself in. Know that it is just a season. It will pass. You will have good days and bad days, but the key is to get up and keep living those days. Nothing should stop you from moving forward. Not even the pain.

In the Baptist church I’ve heard many preachers say that “Joy cometh in the morning” and I used to be mad because I’d wake up and still be in immense pain from the situation that was affecting me. But, I realized as I aged was that the saying was not that your problems would be over, but that you woke up and you lived to see another morning and that my friends is why you should have joy.

You can cry. You can curse. You can wallow in self-pity about your lot in life or the hand that you’ve been dealt, but you have to remember that you are stronger in the morning. Why? Because you woke up and you kept going instead of letting your situation beat you down or hold you down. You are stronger because you kept going.

So, my Motivational Monday Moment is about believing that “Sometimes the strongest people in the morning are the people who cried all night.” You can cry. You can cry all night. But, when the morning comes love…you need to get up and fight. Fight for the new day you’ve been given. You owe it to your family. You owe it to yourself. Everyone has a battle. Everyone has a story. How will your story end?

Happy Monday loves!

 

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

Finding the Beauty in Broken Things

This was one of the topics my therapist and I discussed a couple of weeks ago. She was telling me that I needed to find the beauty in the broken things and stop being so pessimistic. I couldn’t help it. I literally felt like everything around me was falling apart and that life was dragging me along.

I felt alone.

I know you’re probably thinking, “T, how can you be alone if you have this great guy that you love and adore and is good to you?” Easy – he’s not always there. We don’t live together so sometimes I am the one fighting for his attention when he has many other things going on. Not that I’m jealous. He takes care of a lot of people. I know that. I support that. But…

Sometimes my mind makes me believe that there is no one when I’m going through the storm. I can sit there and call my top five people and they are all busy. They will usually call back, but in the middle of my self-imposed crisis, I feel like I’m drowning. In the ocean with no raft.

That’s when my therapist told me that I needed to change my mindset. That I was being consumed by the negative and I needed to see the beauty in the broken things. She was explaining how there is a Japanese art form called kintsugi that uses gold to fill in the broken pieces of bowls. “The Japanese art of kintsugi teaches that broken objects are not something to hide but to display with pride.” – Steffano Carnazzi , LifeGate

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That’s what she wanted me to remember that life may seem broken and I may get overwhelmed, but I need to sit back and see the beauty of all that is around me. There is beauty within me no matter what. She said you’re like that bowl.

She said that I need to stop being overwhelmed by the issues/situations that are affecting me and celebrate some of my successes. So, I’m doing that. Here are three success that I’m sharing with you today:

  • I’m a TODAY Parenting team contributor. I’m truly excited about this. Baby steps.
  • I wrote two grants for my son’s school last year that were approved and will be funded. Pretty cool huh?
  • I pitched two pieces last week and I’m hoping that they will be picked up. Hey, the worst they can say is no, right?

That’s about it. I know that I have a lot of people praying for me and Munch and I truly am grateful. I just need to change my attitude and start counting my successes more than my failures. There are a lot out there and I’m just in awe of God’s grace.

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Note: I do not own the rights to these photos. A Google search showed on kintsugi images showed them.

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

Reblog: Domestic Violence is Purple

October is more than just pink shoes and pink footballs

It’s more than pink wrappers or pink scrubs it’s also about purple

Purple like the bruise on my momma’s face last night

Purple like my sister’s busted lip last week

 

I watch with tears in my eyes as many people ignore the signs

The cries for help

The sounds of fists flying, furniture breaking and babies crying

 

Go unheard because pink is prettier

Pink is silent and doesn’t scream to be heard

Pink is stealth and knows its place therefore it’s worthy for attention

Pink doesn’t seek to breakdown the truth about violence in our country

Pink happens as luck of the draw

 

Purple is what you choose when you stay with someone who you love

You think you can change them that you walk around with bruises

Broken bones, busted lips and no self-esteem praying that you can change

The broken one who beats you

 

But sometimes the purple is not flowing like blood on the carpet

Sometimes it comes in the form of “You’re a Fat Whore!”

Or “No one loves you!”

Words yelled in anger and you hold your head in shame

 

Covering up your purple abused heart because you love too much

You love someone who is incapable of loving you the way you deserve

You love because you need love in return; you crave it the way you give it

Only sometimes you wish this love would come to you in a way that doesn’t make you wish for death

In a pink casket

domestic-violence

 

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

I Know Not

I know not the moment when my innocence was shattered. When my belief in man became so obscure that I thought death was better than life. I’m lying.

I remember.

I remember the day that you touched me as I slept. The moment that my innocence was shattered and I was left to pick up the pieces of the dirty word I had become. I know not why I had to endure that pain.

Maybe someone can explain.

I know not why I was assaulted by two boys on the school bus. Why they held me down and hunched me as I screamed out.  Kissing me. Holding my wrists. Why they chose to grind their adolescent penises in my crotch all to show me their manhood. I know not why no one came to my rescue. I screamed for help.

I remember.

Because I was just a girl. Faceless. I didn’t matter. They were popular. I was a nobody. Or that was how I was treated after the boys got in trouble. I was just an unknown. I asked for it. I know not how a child asks for boys to hold her down as they humped her and she screamed for help.

I know not why I was abandoned.

The isolation of classmates created such loneliness in my spirit that I understood that a nobody liked me must have deserved the unwanted attention as I was just a girl. A child. It didn’t matter. I don’t know why the expectation is that I wanted this.

I know not why I remember the day that my classmate raped me. I remember the feel of his penis pushing through me as I screamed and fought. The words “No one likes a tease” as I laid there crying and fighting for my spirit. I remember praying to God to die as he penetrated me relentlessly.

I know not why I saw me outside my body. I sang a song. A song of comfort. My mind was breaking apart. I imagined singing. I was a young girl. Maybe about 6 or 7. I sang This Little Light of Mine as he raped me. I know not why that song came to me.

I remember. I remember believing that God was protecting me. That walls were being built all around my mind to protect me from the pain. The pain was insurmountable. The memories would be too painful and I felt numb.

I died that day. Spiritually.

Each time I was touched. I lost a piece of me. But, I lived. I know not why.

Maybe it is because God had greater plans for my life than I could have ever imagined. I know not why.

God gave me a son to raise after boys and a man destroyed many parts of my youth. But, He must have a sense of humor right? Cause why would my womb carry a man?

I know not why.

I know not why the answers to many questions remain unclear. Like fragments and repressed memories they fight to come to light. Buried memories of things not spoken about.

But, I know that I have a purpose. I am better than my perpetrators. I am better than my past. I’m better than the man who tries to break me down by accusing me of emasculating my son when I am the one who brought forth light and named him Munch. I know not why.

 

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

Domestic Violence and Silence

Do you hear that? It is the sound of a fist hitting flesh. Bam. Blood dripping off the lip of the victim. She whimpers. Most of the bruises she can hide with make-up. This is physical abuse.

Will you help her?

Did you know? That she left her ex-husband and he’s not supporting his children. He wanted her to stay at home and raise the children. She did. She left and he turned off all her cards and put all the money in the joint account in his private one. She doesn’t have money for food. This is financial abuse.

Will you help her?

Did you know that he called her “b*tch” so much that she thought that was her name? That he cussed her and put her down in front of his friends. Did you watch him make “jokes” at her expense and the painstakingly way she laughed off?  Did you know that he tells her personal and painful history to his new partner as a way to hurt her and humiliate her. This is emotional abuse. 

Will you help her?

Did you know that she endured sex so many times because he wanted it? She hated having sex with him whenever he wanted it but he told her that her body belonged to him. She died each time. This is sexual abuse. 

Will you help her?

Did you know that he sends her harassing emails putting her down and telling her “his beliefs and opinions” about her and what kind of parent she is? He talks about her negatively on social media. This is digital abuse.

Will you help her?

October is Domestic Violence Awareness month. Did you know? Did you know that many women suffer from domestic violence that goes unreported.

Domestic violence does not discriminate. Anyone of any race, age, sexual orientation, religion or gender can be a victim – or perpetrator – of domestic violence. It can happen to people who are married, living together or who are dating. It affects people of all socioeconomic backgrounds and education levels. – National Domestic Violence Hotline

The CDC reports that before the age of 18 – 8.5 million women first experienced rape. I am one of those women. I am a survivor of domestic violence, as I was a victim of rape before the age of 18. I’ve also suffered emotional violence. Violence is never okay.

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Many men don’t see it as emotional violence because they feel that they aren’t physically assaulting you. That’s a myth. If you can’t control your temper and you use tactics to humiliate, embarrass or belittle your former partner, you need help. My rape isn’t my fault. My sexual assault isn’t my fault. My molestation isn’t my fault. Victim shaming is a form of humiliation and is insulting to the victim. You’ve now become a batterer.

I am a survivor and you need to know that violence is never the answer. Don’t ignore the pain of those that may need your support because your silence may kill. Help those that may be hurting.

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Do you know someone? Are you in an abusive relationship? Please get help. Call:

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Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.