When anxiety days strike

Are you like me when you can be fine for a while, only having the odd anxious moments or generally only being anxious for very specific reasons, and then one day comes where you feel paralysed by anxiety and you don’t know what to do?

I haven’t fully figured out yet how to make it go away(maybe professionals would have a better idea, of course), but I do know thatwhen these days come around I need to take them for myself, take the time toheal and let my thoughts get organised again. I also know though, that the linebetween taking time for myself and isolating myself is very thin, and I need toknow exactly when that alone time needs to come to an end, or it might do moredamage than good.

The thing that bothers me is not knowing what I’m anxious about. Most days it has a reason, but these days it can just come and linger around for absolutely no good reason, meaning I don’t know how to make it goaway (at all).

Sometimes you just need some quiet around you to recharge. And I don’t quiet in terms of tangible noise, but in terms of emotional noise,the negativity that emanates from human beings.

If I can’t be around you it doesn’t mean I don’t like you or that I have anything against you, it just means that my head is too cluttered,and I need to clear it in order to feel okay again. It means that no matter how much I try to drown out the noise, being around others who going against everything and focusing on the negative side of life is getting to me, and that doesn’t allow me to be in peace with my thoughts.

Like it or not, I’m not always strong enough to be able to face your criticism or others without feeling a little torn down myself. That’s why, when you see me fleeing and seeking for this quiet time, don’t take itpersonally.

My head needs time to recollect its thoughts and figure outto make me feel better without outside influences.

It’s only because of this silence that I’m able to keep feeling inspired

Have you gotten like this before? How do you make anxiety go away when you don’t really know the source of it?

Talk to me, how do you deal with your axiety? What techbiques do you have to combat it?

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On a cold February night…..

I thought I had it under control, laugh when I’m sad, smile when I’m hurt, love when I’m betrayed, sing without a voice, but fuck it. Sometimes, the only thing you can do is get away, leave it all behind. Start afresh, on a clean slate, a new chapter.

All these crosses my mind as I laid there in the dark, spent from a session of fake love making, him, breathing ever so serene besides me, there’s no love between us anymore, at best, we’ve become intimate strangers.

I mean, how do you love someone who doesn’t love you back? Where do you master up the energy to keep giving him your all?

I thought love was supposed to feel like a sweet sight of satin sheets gently caressing my skin, but it’s though, it’s as hard as someone’s feet in summertime pavements, as a dick in one’s crack.

You see, for me love feels hopeless, and we all know too well that hope is dangerous at times. I sat there, waiting on him to learn how to love me, to give it a try. I sat there like a blind man searching for new eyes on the internet. Why don’t I just walk away? Why do I sit here and let him keep me in a place of confusion?

For a moment I thought I was crazy, I thought I was over thinking things, but then you remembered what love truly is. It is a maze, a maze I keep turning the corner hoping he’ll be there, it’s a place where the sun shines but it’s raining th the same time.

Love… Love is like bipolar on steroids. I mean, out of all things why would I invest in something I no longer believed in? Maybe it’s me, maybe, in order for me to be immensely in love with this man, I’d had to fall in love with myself. Maybe, if I didn’t feel like somehow the the men in life had failed me I wouldn’t be feeling this inadequacy towards a man whose loved me flaws and all.

But you see, I don’t think I’m willing to allow myself this moment of bliss, to breathe a brand new air and have his love engulf even the doubts in mind. Instead, I’m sitting here in the dark, plotting my escape from a love, and a man who seems to be shaking the very foundations of my insecurities.
Will he understand that it has nothing to do with him, and everything to do with me. That I’m afraid of loving him because he’s everything I’ve ever wanted in man, that he is a man, and then some. Oh God, what is wrong with me?

I am close to tears now, so im gonna just cuddle with this beautiful specimen and forgetabout my inability to be vulnerable with him

Unapologetically me: Black, Queer, Complex and Loving ME😉

The most important thing I want you to take away from this is that you are most definitely, without a doubt good enough. I need you to remember there is absolutely nothing wrong with you.

I know there is a good chance you are rolling your eyes at that statement, you may be muttering to yourself, “yeah right” or “whatever” but mutter away cause it’s true.

It’s tough being the guy who cares too much. The guy who would do anything for those he cares about without wanting anything in return.

I totally get that. It can take a toll on a person.

You’re the guy that overthinks everything. The one who worries about everyone before worrying about himself. You’re the guy who loves with his whole heart. You jump in with no hesitations. You’re also the guy who’s had his heart broken because of it. The one who at the end of the day begins to question everything.

You need to erase this idea that there is something the matter with you. Delete the notion that you’re unlovable, that you have some sort of personality flaw that stops someone from loving you.

You see the problem was never you. It’s the boy you openly gave your heart to, that couldn’t see the value in your love. A guy who took a heart of gold and tried to tarnish it. A guy who doesn’t deserve the love you’ve continuously tried to give him. If he makes you feel like you’re not good enough, he isn’t good enough.

Forget that guy because as much as losing him hurts, there will be someone to pick up the pieces and help you leave him in the dust. There is someone out there who will show you how a real gentleman treats a lady.

Let me tell you, you deserve a man that will lift you up, help you believe in yourself, remind you fairy tales do exist and that you can have your own Nicholas Sparks tale, but it’ll be even better cause it will be your own.

Stop comparing yourself to every other guy out there. You were born to be different, to be an individual. You’re not supposed to be like everyone else, otherwise you wouldn’t be you.

Just because he has some features you wish you had, doesn’t mean you aren’t deserving of the same things he is, it doesn’t make you any less of a man. He may be taller, weigh a little less than you but it doesn’t make him better. Chances are there are things he doesn’t like about himself as well.

The things you see as flaws or imperfections make you the wonderful man you are.

Stop looking at yourself in the mirror feeling disgusted. Stop picking out all the things you hate about yourself. Focus on all the good. Stop telling yourself that if you lost a few pounds everything would be better. Stop convincing yourself your weight is a reason to not be worthy.

You have to learn to love yourself before you can expect someone else to love you. I promise there will be a guy who will love every little thing about you, even your obsession with cold pizza, the way you fall in love with characters from the many novels you have read and collected and every other thing you think is wrong with your body.

Please know that the scale doesn’t define you. You may be skinnier than other guys or you may be a little more curvaceous and both of those are perfectly fine. Embrace it all, because you are beautiful.

Forget those who make you feel any less deserving of respect, love, honesty, loyalty and trust. In fact tell them, ‘Bye Felicia”. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out, because those who refuse to see your worth or helped put the notion that you’re not good enough is someone you don’t need around.

Love yourself. You are wonderful and worthy.

You are more than “good enough”. You’re great, and your strengths outweigh your weaknesses everyday.

You are beautiful, strong, intelligent, witty, sarcastic, funny and worthy. You’re a genuinely beautiful soul and a fantastic man, so please believe in yourself, and screw the haters.

-From one guy who let the world tell him he wasn’t good enough, it’s time we start believing we are.

#Self_Love #Self_believe #Self_worth #Beautiful _is_me

Moving in my own variation

Over the last few years, I started realizing how much trouble we were having communicating with one another. Less so for close friends and family. Much more so when it comes to discussing ideologies with strangers. Having failed at so many of these conversations, I may have learned something. If we want to have more meaningful conversations, we need to do a better job of being honest with one another. And that includes using the most accurate language available to us.

I hear the word disability tossed around a fair bit. There now seems to be a disability for everything. It’s like if you’re anything other than the ‘perfect’ human blueprint, you are somehow lesser. And this is your disability.

Fuck that.

I read something interesting a few months ago about the victim mentality. Someone was asked why it had gained in popularity and what made it attractive. The answer was rather simple: it was an easy way to be powerful. The traditional route to power was through hard work and success, and it usually took years. In a society that celebrates and protects victims, why invest the time and effort into building yourself up through accountability and responsibility when you could get the same result through claiming your victimhood? Why put in the long hours and make the hard decisions when you could look for ways in which you’ve been marginalized and call foul?

Disabled? Why even try? Why would you want to overcome your challenges? Why would you want to try and find your gift? Why not tell the world that you got a raw deal and that it’s their responsibility to make it up to you?

Because of Stephen Hawking and everyone like him.

Put him in a pro football game and I’ll show you someone who is appears severely disabled. Place him within an academic environment where he can research, study, and share his knowledge… I’ll show you one of the most gifted individuals of the last century. It’s only a disability when you apply yourself to the wrong task. That means it’s not a disability, it’s a misalignment. Your genetic variance needs to be aligned with the right task for you to do what you do best. I would imagine Gronk would be about as successful at teaching theoretical physics to a group of PhDs as Hawking would be at catching an end-zone pass.

I think it’s about time we start making an effort to understand the situation for what it is. There are plenty of illnesses which are real. There are all kinds of foreign substances which can be introduced to your body which will mess your shit up. That’s where it’s important to understand how to heal the body and bring it back to a sustainable equilibrium. But I can’t help but think that this is very different from most if not all physical or cognitive ‘disabilities’. Those aren’t disabilities, those are genetic variances.

When I try to think about myself from the perspective of disability, I can see plenty that’s wrong with me. I get pretty bad anxiety moments. My confidencesisn’t perfect. I qualify as a slight depressed. I have a series of lingering suicidal thpughts and lower back pain and metal in my right foot. I have a heavily deviated septum. My sense of sociality sucks. I binge write. And etc. And etc. And etc. And it’s not like I’m unaware of them. I’m working on improving the ones I can, and not stressed about the rest.

It’s funny, I’m thinking back to when I grew up and it the was kind of neighborhood where nobody was short on disadvantages. Everyone was aware of what was making their lives hard. We didn’t complain or expect someone else to change it though, we just assumed the deck was stacked against us. What we would do was use that a measure of whose success was worth celebrating. It wasn’t about who had the greatest accomplishment, it was about who did the most with the least. I can’t help but be grateful that I was raised with that perspective.

When I think about who I am and what I’ve been given, with the perspective I have today… I see something pretty cool. All things considered, I think I got a pretty good roll of the genetic dice. But like anyone else, it’s a mixed bag. The way my brain is wired allows me to do certain thing exceptionally well while it struggles with others. Anxiety ? Why? Because my brain is wired to do things differently than someone else’s? And what if I can do these things better than the average person? Is it a disability? Who’s to say that my unique genetic variance doesn’t simultaneously display symptoms of anxiety while allowing my mind to do all kinds of other cool things that others struggle with

We are all our own deviation from the human blueprint. Each variation of that blueprint comes with its own advantages and disadvantages. And those advantages and disadvantages wills shift depending on circumstance. The best thing we can do for ourselves is understand where we have the potential to be exceptional at and apply ourselves to the best of our abilities. The best thing we can do as a society is to support the discovery of what makes us different, and then to support the pursuit of being our absolute best at it. Through this, I can see a happier, more productive world.

Whatever it is that you are, there is something you do better than anyone else. If you spend your time doing that, you are not disabled, you are gifted.

Falling in love with my flaws

Over the last few years, I started realizing how much trouble we were having communicating with one another. Less so for close friends and family. Much more so when it comes to discussing ideologies with strangers. Having failed at so many of these conversations, I may have learned something. If we want to have more meaningful conversations, we need to do a better job of being honest with one another. And that includes using the most accurate language available to us.

I hear the word disability tossed around a fair bit. There now seems to be a disability for everything. It’s like if you’re anything other than the ‘perfect’ human blueprint, you are somehow lesser. And this is your disability.

Fuck that.

I read something interesting a few months ago about the victim mentality. Someone was asked why it had gained in popularity and what made it attractive. The answer was rather simple: it was an easy way to be powerful. The traditional route to power was through hard work and success, and it usually took years. In a society that celebrates and protects victims, why invest the time and effort into building yourself up through accountability and responsibility when you could get the same result through claiming your victimhood? Why put in the long hours and make the hard decisions when you could look for ways in which you’ve been marginalized and call foul?

Disabled? Why even try? Why would you want to overcome your challenges? Why would you want to try and find your gift? Why not tell the world that you got a raw deal and that it’s their responsibility to make it up to you?

Because of Stephen Hawking and everyone like him.

Put him in a football game and I’ll show you someone who is appears severely disabled. Place him within an academic environment where he can research, study, and share his knowledge… I’ll show you one of the most gifted individuals of the last century. It’s only a disability when you apply yourself to the wrong task. That means it’s not a disability, it’s a misalignment. Your genetic variance needs to be aligned with the right task for you to do what you do best. I would imagine Gronk would be about as successful at teaching theoretical physics to a group of PhDs as Hawking would be at catching an end-zone pass.

I think it’s about time we start making an effort to understand the situation for what it is. There are plenty of illnesses which are real. There are all kinds of foreign substances which can be introduced to your body which will mess your shit up. That’s where it’s important to understand how to heal the body and bring it back to a sustainable equilibrium. But I can’t help but think that this is very different from most if not all physical or cognitive ‘disabilities’. Those aren’t disabilities, those are genetic variances.

When I try to think about myself from the perspective of disability, I can see plenty that’s wrong with me. I get pretty bad leg rash every winter season. My vision isn’t perfect. I qualify as someone with mild anxiety. I have a series of lingerung chronic lower back pain and metal in my right foot. I have a heavily deviated septum. My sense of self worth sucks. I live o na verge of meltdowns. And etc. And etc. And etc. And it’s not like I’m unaware of them. I’m working on improving the ones I can, and not stressed about the rest.

It’s funny, I’m thinking back to when I grew up and it the was kind of neighborhood where nobody was short on disadvantages. Everyone was aware of what was making their lives hard. We didn’t complain or expect someone else to change it though, we just assumed the deck was stacked against us. What we would do was use that a measure of whose success was worth celebrating. It wasn’t about who had the greatest accomplishment, it was about who did the most with the least. I can’t help but be grateful that I was raised with that perspective.

When I think about who I am and what I’ve been given, with the perspective I have today… I see something pretty cool. All things considered, I think I got a pretty good roll of the genetic dice. But like anyone else, it’s a mixed bag. The way my brain is wired allows me to do certain thing exceptionally well while it struggles with others. Anxiety? Why? Because my brain is wired to do things differently than someone else’s? And what if I can do these things better than the average person? Is it a disability? Who’s to say that my unique genetic variance doesn’t simultaneously display symptoms of anxiety while allowing my mind to do all kinds of other cool things that others struggle with

We are all our own deviation from the human blueprint. Each variation of that blueprint comes with its own advantages and disadvantages. And those advantages and disadvantages wills shift depending on circumstance. The best thing we can do for ourselves is understand where we have the potential to be exceptional at and apply ourselves to the best of our abilities. The best thing we can do as a society is to support the discovery of what makes us different, and then to support the pursuit of being our absolute best at it. Through this, I can see a happier, more productive world.

Whatever it is that you are, there is something you do better than anyone else. If you spend your time doing that, you are not disabled, you are gifted.

Rejection Blues and Dating Woes

Rejection?

All men of a certain breed instinctively avert to isolating their true emotions when they’ve experienced this social murder. Visions of public humiliation, ostracizing, and ridicule suddenly go through their heads, but, it doesn’t have to be that way, I want to tell you that rejection doesn’t have to be the anxiety and sweaty harbinger of social death, and isolation it’s supposed to be.

Not only are there ways to make it less life destroying, there are even some aspects that could be considered downright, so it isn’t that bad. I am completely honest with you, yet I can’t believe I have the guts to write this. I am going to be honest about not allowing rejection to kill the life you are granted, whilst trying to understand why I get so much rejection than acceptance, some might say I am a hopeless romantic, tacky as that might seem, I guess it stems from me being a poet (Go figure) whether good or bad poetry, light or dark.

As for me, my rejection(s) have been nothing but a bitter-sweet affair.

Funny thing is, people are always shocked and amazed whenever I tell them I suffered some form of bullying in high school. Being an overachiever, hanging out with what I know realize was the “popular clique,& participating in artistic performance avenue, being a sort out representative to events etc. Nobody, including me saw the bullying coming.

It wasn’t at full force, it progressed gradually, and me being me, thought I could take him on, we were worlds apart, in all aspects, and I thought I could intimidate him, be in his face so to speak, but I was wrong. See, the thing about being at a boarding school is everybody knows everybody’s business, no matter how discreet you think you’d be, and all one had to do was find others who shared the same feelings about you. Worst thing is when your so called friends are amongst them
Long story short, by the end of my matric year (nope not gonna say when, I’m too old), not only did I find myself ostracized by the entire boarding house, I had no friends, no study buddies, I was often alone, discarded like some piece of rag. I didn’t mind that, I mean I had just accepted my sexuality, dealing with raging hormones, too afraid to be discriminated against, or ridiculed. That’s when I started keeping a journal (worst mistake of my life)
I was a loner, and I was enjoying it. Sad at times being all alone, but I didn’t have to answer to anyone and I depended on myself.
I remember one day in Oct, everything changed. They changed my life, suddenly, abruptly, and painfully. And I spent that entire night going through every moment, encounter, word, action and reaction leading up to what happened.
Ended up discarding my journal, nursing a broken leg, busted lip, bruised ego, spent my final months always afraid, had sleepless nights (Thinking about how I might be suffocated by the very people I shared a dormitory room with), stopped participating in everything, isolated myself even more, lost my smile, just became this sad thing.

And after I left, (following a dateless matric dance) I found out that the very people who I associated myself with, weren’t as good as I thought, they harbored feelings of jealousy, amongst others, and it what happened to me was a planned attack, instigated by my roomies, friends and that one guy I was head over heels in love with.

2017 the one guy who was being all of it, reaches out. Asking for forgiveness and wants to meet so he could apologize in person. See, I don’t know how I feel about that, a part of me still hates him (all of them in fact) and it’s wrong and petty for me to think and feel this way but I can’t help it.
Thanks to them, I often question my own sanity, I have a hard time trusting and believing in people who show slight interest into me (friendships and otherwise) I sense a negative feeling (at times imaginary and I run to the nearest exit) friends? I always feel inadequate around the very few who are still here, others have done what I would’ve probably do had I been in their position, walked away.

I’m not okay. I smile, I laugh, I converse, but I’m always guarded (well sometimes not as good as I thought) I watch who I associate with, what I say, what secrets/personal info to share and with whom to share it with. His misunderstanding and ignorance of my feelings for me has scarred me so badly that even when I meet a guy who I am pretty sure would handle all the psycho-ness that comes with me, I always wonder, if he too will misunderstand and hurt me, I guess I was hurt and it doesn’t seem like I’ll ever be unhurt.

I’m working on myself though, I’m healing, maybe not as rapid and quicker as I should, but I’m getting there, and I’m opening up more, sharing my fears and aspirations. I’m writing again too, journals, memoirs, poetry, scripts, stories (you name it) making friends too, I don’t socialize a lot though (I have diagnosed myself with social anxiety) the worst part of my life that is still taking a back seat it’s dating. I’m terrified of it, I want to date, I’ve had encounters (short lived as they may be) to open up to someone, be that vulnerable again, I get this panic attacks and I shut down, push the poor soul away and make some excuse as to why we can’t be together.
If I like someone, I want to hang out with him. It’s as simple as that. Or at least it should be. But in the dating culture to which we are enslaved, it has to be more convoluted than that. If I talk to him too much, I’m needy. If I’m always free when he asks me to hangout, I’m clingy and have no life of my own. If he takes three hours to respond to my text, and my phone is in my hand when I get his reply, I have to wait to answer so I don’t seem too eager. And I am constantly wondering why I play these stupid games.
Why can’t I call someone because I like talking to him? Why does showing I care make me needy? If I act angry when a guy blows me off, I’m just a crazy bitch, so my only other option is to complain to my friends and wade in anxiety until he finally texts me back. And let me tell you something; I don’t want to be that girl. I don’t want anyone to have that power over me. No one should have that kind of power over anyone. I am so tired of living in a world where apathy is more effective in getting someone’s attention than honesty. I’m tired of the manipulative games that men and women play with one another in an effort to maintain control in a relationship that we’re not allowed to define.
So here’s my idea: let’s all stop being little fucks. Respect other people enough to tell them the truth. If someone makes you happy, tell them. If someone inspires you, tell them. If you’re not interested in someone, please just fucking tell them. Don’t ignore people until they disappear. It’s time we grow up and stop leaving people hanging with unanswered texts and cryptic social media posts. Everyone is human and we’re all just trying to understand one another in this messy dating world, so stop treating a relationship of any kind like it’s a challenge to complete. Be honest with other people about how you feel, and don’t get so lost in playing the game that you forget to extend that same courtesy to yourself.

Dating in this era is a mission.

I remember the day we met. We were introduced by a mutual friend and after just a few minutes of talking, we hit it off. I gave you my number and told you to text me. You did later that night and for the next few weeks, we spent day in and day out talking. You actively listened to all the boring details about my day and shared with me about yours. We talked about our dreams, our hopes, what we aspired out of life. We commented on how our thoughts always lined up. I knew I was falling for you hard.

I remember the day you asked me out. It was evening time and we were telling each other about our days. When I asked you about yours, you told me it was so much better now that you were talking to me. A few minutes later, you asked me to be yours and I happily said yes. You were my first real relationship. Just like that, a new chapter of my life began.
I remember the honeymoon phase. Everything was straight out of a Nicholas Sparks book. I woke up to good morning texts followed by paragraphs telling me why you were so lucky to have me. We spent all our free time together. We texted nonstop throughout the day. I was on cloud nine. No one else mattered and nothing else made me happier.

I remember our first fight. We were two months into our relationship, and for the first time, I felt reality setting in. The perfect glass that was the honeymoon phase, shattered. You let your true colors show. After a few months of dating, we were arguing more than usual. It was exhausting and I told you I couldn’t do it anymore. You begged me to stay. You told me you couldn’t live without me and that things would be different. I believed it all.

I remember watching you break every promise.
I remember the manipulation. Your controlling, narcissistic personality caused every day to be mentally torturing for me. I wasn’t allowed to hang out with my friends because you wanted every minute of my time. I was constantly yelled at and told I was wrong. I was criticized about every part of my appearance and personality in the most contradicting way. You told me I was too childish, but that I never did anything fun. You told me I didn’t know how to smile properly, but would get angry when I didn’t want to take pictures with you. When I called you out on it, you told me, “We are at a point where I should be able to say things to you without you always getting hurt”. But when I was upset with you, your words manifested into “I can’t believe you would hurt me like that”.
I remember believing it was my fault. I began to believe all the hateful things you would say to me. I began to think there was something wrong with me. I felt responsible for all of our fights because I was always blamed for them. I kept my mouth shut because I didn’t want to be yelled at again.
I remember reaching my breaking point. Your control on me grew even tighter. I lost my friends and my relationship with my family hung on by a thread. I was done. I didn’t want to be in this relationship any longer. I told you I couldn’t do it anymore.
I remember the anger. I remember the rage. I remember you threatening to kill yourself if I ever left. I remember crying profusely. The one person I should have been able to put my trust in, scared the living daylights out of me.
I remember the vicious cycle. Me wanting to leave threatened your sense of control. You started buying me flowers, posting cute pictures of us, and sending me long texts again. But once you were sure I wasn’t going to leave, the mind games came back. You would yell at me, but also buy me flowers to &make up& for what you had done. You told me I looked fat in all my clothes, but would surprise visit me at work. I felt that because of the occasional nice things you did and said, I owed it to you to overlook the bad. I let you do this to me for another year, until I knew I had to end this.
I remember when it finally happened. I finally was able to muster up the courage to break up with you. But after I did, the next few weeks felt like a blur, I had envisioned a future with you by my side, and I was naïve and oblivious to the factors that led to us parting ways.

“Choosing the person you want to share the rest of your life with is one of the most important decisions any of us make, ever, because if it is wrong, it turns your life into grey, and sometimes, sometimes, you don’t even notice, until you wake up one morning and realize that the years have gone by.” –Rosie

And so, I have realized, dear #Stranger, that no matter, where you are, or what you are doing, or who you are with, I will always, honestly, truly, completely, love you.

Every day, I’m amazed at how I learned to stop worrying and sort of not completely hate rejection

And this, is for all the boys I’ve ever loved, and who did not love me back.