For Remembering to be Proud

I had no idea what transferring jobs would do to my mental health. I somehow managed to impress enough of the right people & landed myself in this great position. Honestly, most times I don’t fit in here. I feel like I don’t belong here. My background doesn’t mesh with anyone else in this building. Everyone is so successful & highly educated. I feel ashamed often. This may contribute to the feelings of worthlessness that I’ve been struggling with. I’m not comfortable in personal conversations with co-workers outside of my team. I can’t relate to most of these people because they are just leaps & bounds ahead of me in life. It’s far too easy to see all the things that I don’t have, the things that I fall short with. I don’t have my own house. I don’t have a luxury car. I don’t have a kid going to an Ivy League college. I can’t help but compare & it makes my achievements feel very small.

I’m doing my best to keep things in perspective. My head is very jumbled. I’m still very angry at life. As hard as it’s been, I’ve managed to keep hold of the reigns of my fury. As good as I’m sure it would feel to unleash some of my hostility, I know that it’ll also make me feel awful when I manage to calm down. The good thing is the negativity isn’t crippling me. My life isn’t all that bad. It’s not easy. Most times, it’s really, really difficult. I’ve always felt things too much. I’m self-aware enough to understand that. I tend to make mountains out of molehills. Am I rationalizing? Maybe, I am. Is that so wrong? A person should be rational, right? I have to remind myself how much worse things have been in the past & how bad life could really be. It helps me be okay with where I am in this moment. I need to remind myself of the reality of what became of the other girls that I grew up.

My cousin made it out of an abusive relationship to run into the arms of another criminal. She struggles with drug addiction & lost custody of 2 of her children to the monster that beat her. At almost 38 years old she’s given birth to a new baby girl. My cousin still lives in the house that we grew up in. The gang activity that marked our house 26 years ago still plagues the very foundation. I can’t imagine trying to raise that beautiful little girl in the middle of all that violence. My cousin does the best she can for a woman who was thrown out of the house as a 13 year old girl. I remember watching my aunt throw my cousin’s (her own daughter’s) clothes out the window. I stared in utter shock when in a fit of rage my aunt flung the entire stereo system, speakers & all into the middle of the street. My cousin has only ever felt loved by my grandparents. I was very proud to hear that my cousin’s daughter (who was born when my cousin was 15 years old) graduated high school. The graduation photos nearly made me cry.

We had another girl in our group that was viewed as our protector. She earned her title by being fearless. This young girl would throw down with anyone that dared to cross her or the ones she cared about. Neither male, female, nor beast can intimidate this woman. Her ability to stand firm in the most chaotic of circumstances shined in a neighborhood full of chaos. Her willingness to endure beatings at the hands of any one also made her a very notorious gangster. She danced in many circles that very few women would dare to enter. She’s also given birth to 4 kids with an extremely dangerous man. That man is serving many years behind bars for the few crimes that the system can prove. She works tirelessly & provides for their children without this man’s help. Her loyalty keeps her faithful to a chronic jailbird who will spend more time behind bars than in her bed or with their children.

These are the success stories of the girls in the group that I grew up in, other girls haven’t been so lucky. I know girls that have been lost to drugs, eating disorders, abuse, prostitution, domestic violence, & sexual assault. Many different soul destroying wounds bled the girls that I loved as children until they’d disappeared or left this existence entirely. I had to battle & overcome some of these painful events for myself.

I need to remember what a gift my life really is. I live in a beautiful, safe home. I drive a comfortable, reliable car. I have a fully stocked refrigerator. My job is flexible, yet challenging & pays me enough that I don’t worry about my finances anymore. All of my loved ones are healthy & strong enough to make me wanna choke em on some days. My son is secure enough in his self-riotousness to think that forcing him to do extra chores makes me the devil incarnate. I have both of my parents to talk to when we are stable enough to put the dysfunction away.

Is my life hard? Yes, it is. I have to remember how proud of myself I am for living it.