-
Dirty, Pretty Things
Often, after an intense therapy appointment, instead of sitting in my car, folded across the steering wheel before I have the strength to face the rest of the day, I make a detour to the T.J. Maxx on the way home. I don’t always buy anything; I just wander the racks and flip through organized…
-
Don’t You Know That You’re Toxic?
Editor’s Note: Trigger warning, this post talks about the subject of suicide, and was written before the death of Linkin Park’s Chester Bennington. It can be time-consuming, this constant calibration of moods. I can’t predict when it will hit me, when my lungs will close and the room will begin to spin. When I feel…
-
When Vanity Is Self-Care
The salon was busy when I walked in. There was the chatter of stylists gossiping with clients, the whirl of hair dryers and the receptionist laughing into her cellphone. She paused the conversation to ask if she could help me. Before I could respond, the stylist I’d come to see noticed me and waved me…
-
Sometimes, Staying Woke Means Staying Away
Waking up to tragedies of some measure has become the norm over the years. Lately it feels as if every day there’s another hashtag created to expose our worst fears or break what’s left of our hearts. I wasn’t clear on what had happened; all I saw were the hashtags floating down the page. My…
-
Shame and Other Pre-Existing Conditions
I go to stores at 3:15 on weekdays. Lunchtime is crowded with people rushing to squeeze in errands during the workday. Noon to 3 is for the stay-at-home moms killing time before they join the school-pickup lines. Anything after 5 is an absolute no unless I can get there an hour or two before closing.…
-
No, You Have Anxiety
Literally anything can give me anxiety, from a car that takes a second too long to turn over, the gym at its busiest hour, a doorbell ringing, the refrigerator light—anything. Today’s source of anxiety is a text message my friend and big brother, Roger, sent last night: “I need to holler at you. I’ll call…
-
The Anguish of Depression: ‘I Am Trying to Stay Alive’
Many like to use the metaphor of darkness when it comes to depression. My experience is more like a fog: a thing descending slowly; a thick something that surrounds me and distorts the vision of myself and the world around me. One day, there is nothing but sun, and without warning, things that felt like…
-
Why the Whole 'Poor Africa' Thing Has to Stop
In a blog entry at xoJane, Nigerian poet-writer Bassey Ikpi checks in on the debate surrounding the “Stop Kony” campaign and white saviors. She says that while such campaigns are laudable, they merely further stereotypes that Africa is constantly in need of saving. Her personal stories highlight the pain of some these misguided perceptions. ……
-
Black People Don't Kill Themselves, Right?
When the news came Wednesday morning that beloved icon and creator of Soul Train Don Cornelius had died, there was a collective gasp of disbelief. Though he was 75, there seemed to be an understanding that Cornelius was immortal. For as long as we could remember, he was, as a friend put it, “the arbiter…
-
My Odd Fascination With Odd Future
I discovered Frank Ocean one night a few months ago when I was up late, avoiding sleep for one reason or the other, and ended up on YouTube. The young R&B crooner’s unconventional structure and vocals pulled me in. His song “We All Try” became heavy rotation in my headphones as I worked. Then came…
