The Unique View

As I close out my day, I am sitting here thinking about the journey I am on. Being diagnosed with clinical depression is one of wonder and curiosity, frustration and bewilderment, anger and fear. Since that dreadful day, April 6, 2016, I have found myself embarked on a journey of seeking knowledge and understanding about this illness. I woke up this morning with a strong desire to cry, scream and shout. I had a dread in my spirit that tried to consume me. I needed to clean a little, but as I started, I got stuck and had to sit down. Knowing that depression will cause you to shut down, I forced myself to accomplish my intended task. This was extremely hard mentally and physically. The dark cloud that loomed kept sounding the alarm beckoning me to stay in bed. I fought it and today ended up a good day. I willed myself to get up and get out. I took in two hours at the gym and got my one load of laundry done. Though my eating is slim to none, I did toss some chicken wing...

I am still here. You may have been wondering, where is she? My last post was April 3, 2016.  Well, let me tell you, I have been on a journey. I am suffering from depression, medication and all that comes with it. I have not been able to write, read, let alone function clearly due to the wall I crashed into, or should I say, the wall that crashed into me.  It has been a month now, and I am doing much better, but this journey is what it is. I can only take the one day at a time granted me by the Father.  The post you are about to read is what I wrote a few days after that dreadful day, April 6th.  My brothers and sisters, depression is real. The masks that we as African-American men and woman have been conditioned to wear must be removed. We must allow the process of life to flow through us no matter how it looks and while life is flowing, we must acknowledge who we are and what it is for us. Wearing the super cape, putting on the vibrant smile, saying we are oka...