December 4th.
To so many in my life it’s JayZ’s birthday (I’m from New York, so yes, this is a thing)
A lot of my male friends celebrate Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity’s Founders Day.
I scroll my Twitter and other social media timelines to see birthdays, anniversaries, memes … Happiness. Milestones. And I always smile softly at the fact that December 4th is another day (or even a joyous day) for some.
For me, December 4th is the anniversary of my Uncle Clyde’s death. His Homegoing. 2 years ago I got the text from my mom let me know my only uncle on her side had passed. The man whose smile started at his eyes. This day is sombering. Humbling. No longer overwhelming, but always present. The reminder creeps into my brain while walking the halls between meetings or restocking my pancake bread at Trader Joe’s. That’s the funny thing about death… for me anyways… it’s always lingering. Even before people pass away, the thought while they are living and breathing and smiling next to me is still sitting on my soldier. Reminding me this person you love and can’t imagine my life without, won’t always be there.
This day last year, I sat in a hotel room, bawling as I wrote here about how he is the reason I moved to San Francisco. I didn’t want to let his death be in vain, so I decided to embrace the things that scared me shitless to really live my life. I said “I had to change how fear dictated my life” and I meant it with every fiber of my being.
Cliff notes: I failed. Miserably.
My life has been a roller-coaster since October 1st 2018. I looked towards 2019 for solace just knowing that after everything 2018 brought, 2019 could only get better right? I literally did the opposite of what I planned. Maybe I pushed too hard or took too much on. I have been known to be overzealous from time to time…Fear OVERTOOK my life. I could have thrown away my alarm clock because anxiety woke me up every morning. The pressure on my chest letting me know that the sleep I just got was in vain. My anxious thoughts made me physically cringe and jump under the safety of my sheets. My body might be rested, but my mind… yeah right. Oh, and because I’m an overachiever, I went a step further and gave myself anxiety attacks. Nothing really solidifies the fear dictating your life like feeling like you can’t breathe and you’re going to lose consciousness. I was at the point where I feared my fear. I reached super saiyan levels.
I think of every goal I had wanted to accomplish, written down carefully in a notebook in December 2018. I planned on visiting that notebook every day to remind myself. Smiling as I looked back at my completed list. Envisioning the richer, slimmer me, happier, more successful me bringing in 2020 and my year of 35 finally being the person I always imagined myself to be. Month by month passed, and with each month I avoided eye contact with that same notebook. It sat neatly on my dresser, next to the TV where I binged shows I wasn’t even really watching. Convincing myself I deserved to relax because I work hard, but did I? And no, this wasn’t imposter syndrome. This was reality. People would tell me the amazing work they see me doing and I would literally have to smile through the lump in my chest because I felt like it was catfish. That one day the truth would come out and they would be disappointed that the prayers and hope they had for me was wasted. My anxiety had hit my work. I always managed to complete my work even excel in some, but it was different. I questioned my intelligence. My skill. My expertise. I had worked so hard to build the last 11 years of my career and here I was throwing it away with in 365 days. I let the anxiety coax me into a place I hated. I had to FORCE myself to be myself. Every idea I had, excited at first thought, would be stuck inside my head because I let fear convince me to. I let it fear win and I was ashamed. It wasn’t depression, or at least I (and my therapist) don’t think it is. I was happy. I enjoyed things. I can function. I genuinely laughed and smiled. I had moments of inspiration. And I was ALWAYS available to help someone push fear out the way to make sure they were good (which has always been the theme for my life). However, when it came to the execution, I overthought and doubted myself until I felt the familiar pressure in my chest start to form. Weighing me down. Slowing my movements. Sometimes I would stare at my laptop or notebook, internally yelling at myself that I can do this, I was better than my fear. But anxiety always was there to tap my shoulder and say “aht aht…. Are you?”
In hindsight, I’m starting to think the angel and devil/ good and evil on people’s shoulder that would happen on TV and movies was actually your real self and anxiety battling … but that’s a different post.
I hid this for months. My closest friends didn’t know what was going on. One day, as I was on the plane, and I felt the heaviness building. I was on hour three of a six hour flight and I was panicking about my panic. I talked myself down and that’s when I realized I had to do the thing I was avoiding. I had to address it. I had to understand that this wasn’t going away, and avoiding the problems, the triggers, wasn’t fixing my fear. That this wasn’t going to be easy, but that wasn’t the excuse. I was literally feeding my fear. I was giving it exactly what it wanted. I not only let fear stop me from walking in my purpose, I stopped myself to allow that it did.
These last few months, I slowly but surely rebuilt. Facing consequences for anxiety ridden actions. Being clear on who I was with when my anxiety went on its lunch break. Grateful for the moments when I thought fear would pop up like an unwanted ex. When I told my therapist about my anxiety attacks, she asks how I am handling them. I told her I usually try to talk myself down or try to be mindful to get pass them or avoid my triggers. She complimented me for finding things that work. I laughed and said “I don’t want them managed, I want them fixed.” She looked at me and said, “Not everything is a quick fix… You need to learn to trust yourself, and especially your voice, more“ I realized then that some things need to be managed versus completed. And it was my reminder (again) to focus on the journey (good or bag) and the lessons that come with it versus just the goal/end project.
Everyday is different. Some good some bad. And this post isn’t for sympathy (they never are). It’s a reminder to myself and hopefully others that life isn’t like Instagram. We can’t make it pretty with a few quick edits or filter. The struggle does not end unless you let the struggle end you. It’s a reminder that I am still changing how fear dictates my life. Now, I’m using it be more mindful. More intentional. More purpose driven. Not just for my uncle Clyde’s legacy, but for my own.
And I pray every day that you are on this earth, you are doing something that you would be proud to leave behind and that you aren’t letting fear navigate your path. Now I just remembered to add myself into the prayers.
Happy December 4th. ❤
