Self-Analyisis

It's only been three weeks since I've decided to take a break from school, and so many self-discoveries have been made. My depression still seems like this big mass of confusion. It's like the world's longest math problem and I have no idea how to even begin to tackle it to solve it. So I don't even try. It's been so present in my life it's hard to dissect it, and it's hard to differentiate between facets of my actual personality, and facets of my depression.

My anxiety is a different story though. I think I've always been slightly anxious but it's relatively new because it didn't really flare up until this semester. So far I've been able to determine where most of my anxiety stems from. However, I don't really know what to do after that. Hopefully I'll figure that out as time goes on. My anxiety themes are irrational thoughts and fears I have that can be triggered by specific or minuscule events, or thoughts that I have when I am in a depressed state.

1. Irrational Fear of Laziness.
I feel extremely guilty whenever I spend time relaxing, which is why I spent time joining so many clubs in school. However, I wasn't able to give anything the time it deserved. I constantly don't want to be seen as lazy, because I think that lazy people deserve what happens to them. I also come from a family that is financially stable. I want to prove to everyone that I am not spoiled, and that I have a good work ethic, therefore I over compensate.

2. Poor body image.
I feel very unhappy with my body despite the weight I am at. This stemmed from middle school when I was going through puberty and had to deal with negative comments by my parents. Throughout middle school I was ridiculed for my appearance, and I am very insecure about my teeth. Whenever I have a stressful time, this is where my teeth nightmares stem from. I also feel bad about my skin-tone because I was teased for it throughout high school. It makes me feel undesirable, and as though people are attracted to me out of pity. I am able to acknowledge that I am photogenic, but I wish I could change multiple things about my appearance. My height makes me feel awkward and heavy as well.

3. Questions over morality, and if I'm a good person.
This comes from sexuality issues but also issues with my parent's money, similar to number one. I feel as though my mental health issues cost my family so much money that I am a bad person for being so selfish and always talking about how sad I am. I feel guilty going to therapy and taking my medicine because so many people can't do that. I feel like a bad person when I express negative emotions because that will make other people feel sad as well. I had no problem taking my medicine until recently until I was triggered by someone jokingly implying that I was lazy. Now I am filled with anxiety before taking my medicine because of my irrational fear of being lazy or spoiled.

4. The obsession with being the best/Perfectionism
If I'm not the best at something I will not attempt to do so. If I see someone else being better at something it makes me feel anxious and depressed. I must appear to have it all together. I cannot admit my flaws or mistakes to people.

5. Fears that no one likes me.
This is mainly me thinking people talk to me out of pity, or they are going to drop me when someone better comes around. This makes it difficult for me to trust people, and irrationally jealous sometimes. This jealousy is more internal, and causes me to think negative thoughts about myself and my appearance, and use that as reasoning for people disliking me. I also think that people are lying when they say nice comments to/about me.

6. Insecurity over my intelligence.
I have always tied intelligence to grades, and I always convince myself I have horrible grades. I tell myself that I am not really smart, and that people can tell. I also tell myself that certain people will not associate with me due to my lack of knowledge.

It Can't Wait

Hi yall! 

For those who don't know, I actually have a younger brother named Deji. He's 12 years old and we used to fight like cats and dogs, but now I can tolerate him in small doses. Since I'm 20, there's almost a decade between us. The 8 year age difference impacts us in multiple ways. We can't relate to most pop culture references, I'm focused on grad school while I'm pretty sure he doesn't even know what grad school is. Also, the 8 year difference means that my parents have A LOT less energy when it comes to having conversations with my brother. Which isn't their fault. I think that's normal with all parents.

However, now that I'm home I've noticed my brother making statements that have been troubling to me. When trying to explain systematic oppression to my dad, I heard Deji grumbling in the background saying that I was being mean to White people when I talked about White Privilege. I've heard Deji complain about White people not being able to use the n-word. He's asked why people in Ferguson are "rioting" and said that "black cops kill white people all of the time." 

It's not Deji's fault though. We live in a society that is founded on these thoughts. As pro-black as his sister is, he can't escape the impact of white supremacy. It's not his fault. It's the system's fault. However, I don't think that he should been thought of as a lost cause.

I think it's very easy for parents to hear their kids make statements like this, and brush it off as something they'll learn about later in life. It shouldn't be like that. Internalized racism is something that takes years to unlearn, and can impact the lives of people of color greatly.

I'm a prime example. I'm significantly darker in complexion than my mom, and I have always had coarse afro-textured hair. Starting from the age of 5 I was made to believe that my hair was unprofessional and undesirable, and in order to be "pretty", I must keep it straight. I think most Black women can relate to this kind of thinking. This started an unhealthy relationship with my hair and self-confidence that still impacts me to this day. My skin-tone is something that I've been taught makes me ugly or undesirable to all men. I didn't stop getting teased for it until Senior year of high school. I remember looking in the mirror and wishing I could just be a teeny bit lighter, so a boy could finally like me. 

All of these things will obviously have a negative impact on a girl's self-esteem. Especially a little black girl that lives in a society that only values Euro-centric beauty standards. Sometimes I didn't want to hear my mom reminding me that I was special just the way I was. Sometimes I didn't want to hear that my classmates were jealous of me. 

But I also didn't know what I needed to hear. All of these compliments and reassurances felt hollow and dry but at the age of 16 I couldn't figure out why.

Fast forward to the age of 20, and I'm a self-proclaimed social justice warrior. I'm able to articulate what exactly I did want to hear from my mother. I wanted to hear that we lived in a White supremacist society. I wanted to hear that colorism has been used as a tool to fuel oppression for years. I wanted to hear that nothing was wrong with my hair, other than the fact that it didn't resemble White hair. I wanted to hear that the other Brown girls in my class were just regurgitating the same BS force-fed to them since they popped out of the womb. I wanted to hear that it would be difficult for me to find my self-confidence and appreciate my beauty, but eventually it would be possible after years of correcting harmful thoughts ingrained in me for years.

But of course I didn't hear that. My mother is a nice lady but she is not a social justice warrior. She's an HR manager. She doesn't have the tools to even begin to make those statements because it's not something presented to her often. And that's not her fault but it also isn't mine. I'm left with picking up the pieces and grasping to find some level of confidence just like she had to, and my grandmother had to do before.

I think every teenager goes through their rebellious period. Some turn to drugs or alcohol, or sex. However, my form of rebellion is activism. I think most of my friends who want to be involved with social justice feel the same. This stuff is so serious, but so interesting, we really don't understand how anyone could not be passionate about it. It's awesome going to panels and listening to people's views. You get so fired up and you're ready to have more intellectual discussions!  It's not that awesome going home and listening to your family make i uninformed statements that go completely against your views. It's hard to draw the line between disrespecting your parents, and actually educating them on something that you clearly know more about. It can lead to you feeling disheartened, and misunderstood. 

Who knows what will happen to Deji in the future? Maybe my parents will educate him about police brutality and racial profiling, or maybe they won't. Maybe hearing me talk about racism and seeing me going to protests will lead Deji to open his mind and realize that he can't always listen to his brain-washed peers. Or maybe Deji won't do anything at all. Maybe he'll continue to believe that Black people are responsible for racism against them, and maybe he'll believe in respectability politics. 

All I know is, if I have a say in anything, that can't happen. I refuse to sit and watch my brother fall victim to internalized racism. Because I know that at the end of the day, when it comes to police brutality, his respectability politics will not save him. 

I don't think people understand how it feel stripped of your identity. It's more than your name. It's what you're defined as, it's the role you fit into. I became defined by my involvement. I became defined by extracurricular activities, and a sense of business.They were a part of me. They were me.

I used to be the prodigy. I used to be an example of what happens when you do things right. I was an example of someone who used all that Higher Ed had to offer, to the fullest. 

Also, it took years of hard work. And my illness was able to take that from me within a couple of weeks. 

Now I can't do any of these things. I can't even answer an email. I am not even sure who or what I am now. Also, I had to medically withdraw from this semester. I'm just trying to re-define my role on this campus, and life in general. 

This isn't a pity me post. This also isn't a post about how strong I am. It's just me checking in. Thank you to everyone reaching out to me and supporting me, I love you all! 

Respectability Politics.

This didn’t happen because we didn’t vote.

This didn’t happen because we didn’t pull up our pants.

This didn’t happen because we curse.

This didn’t happen because we listen to rap.

This didn’t happen because we are on Twitter.

This didn’t happen because we watched reality TV.

This didn’t happen because we didn’t educate ourselves.

This didn’t happen because we smoked weed.

This didn’t happen because we stole.

This didn’t happen because we speak Ebonics.

This didn’t happen because we are ghetto.

This didn’t happen because we are ratchet.

This didn’t happen because we call each other niggas.

This didn’t happen because we aren’t beautiful.

This didn’t happen because we are unworthy.

This didn’t happen because we aren’t humans.

This didn’t happen because we werent the backbone of America.

This didn’t happen because we weren’t resilient.

This didn’t happen because we aren’t amazing people.

This didn’t happen because we aren’t soulful people.

This didn’t happen because we aren’t people who still rise.

This happened

Because of our white supremacist society
Institutionalized racism
A flawed justice system
And Darren Wilson.

Why I Went Missing

This post is going to be as personal as the last one. It's also going to have mental health themes, so if those are triggers for you this is a warning. 

Anyways, if you read my last post you've probably realized that I've had a very bad week. Well after I wrote that post, things got significantly worse. Because I was so worried about my missed work, I had another anxiety attack. Which made me unable to study for my next test. Which caused another anxiety attack. One thing lead to another and eventually I was hospitalized, then "involuntarily" put in a mental health hospital until yesterday. The hospital is probably different than you were expecting, but this post isn't about where I was. This post is about how to not end up in the same position as me. 

I think everyone who knows me knows how busy I am. I'm in 7+ clubs, two exec boards, a fellowship, and a job. Along with trying to maintain a social life. This isn't to brag about how I'm able to balance it all, because clearly I wasn't able to. 

In my group of friends, some of us can be thought of as diamonds. Higher Ed professionals see so much potential in us, they just want to sharpen us. That way we can shine brightly. Well I'm what happens when a diamond isn't really a diamond. I could be thought of as a ruby. They're totally cool, totally valuable. They're just different than diamonds. Well I kept trying to shine myself, over and over and over again. The more I was shined, the more apparent it was that I was NOT a diamond. However, I just wanted to be a diamond so bad. Eventually I was put up to the test, and I crumbled. Not because rubies are weak (in scientific terms they aren't as strong as diamonds), but because rubies aren't even meant to be doing the same thing as diamonds. Both are beautiful and valuable, they just serve different purposes.

I know that I want my future to revolve around writing, social justice, and advocacy. So why was I constantly signing up for clubs and opportunities that had absolutely nothing to do with the things I'm passionate about? Because I wanted to be perfect. Perfect is subjective and nonexistent. But in the mind of a depressed/anxious person, it's totally logical to strive for perfection. I had to join ALL the clubs and do ALL the things because I needed to be "the best." 

But I wasn't happy. Every night was spent anxious and sad. I had so much stress bearing on me, at such a young age. I wasn't enjoying college, I wasn't enjoying living. It all felt like a chore. Something I had to do to get to where I wanted to be. It was happening to my other "diamond" friends as well. Mental breakdowns among involved students aren't really anything new to me. It was something that I accepted as normal. But it clearly wasn't good... 

So I crumbled. I should've seen it last semester when my grades were horrible but instead I decided to join more clubs? But this mental breakdown was 8 years in the making. After being depressed for 8 years I'm actually surprised it didn't happen sooner.

One of the things I learned in the hospital is that you don't have to do things that make you unhappy. It was a concept that had never crossed my mind before. I don't have to force myself to do things that sacrifice my happiness, or mental health. I am worthy of happiness. I am a good person, and I am worthy of happiness. I shouldn't feel guilty when I relax alone. I shouldn't feel like a bad person when I hangout with friends. 

I also learned that my mental health comes first. I wasn't maintaining it at all. Anytime I ran out of medicine I was too stressed/busy to make a way to the doctor. Eventually I would go, after suffering withdrawals. I need to make filling my prescription a priority. I also need to be on the right medications. That's something I learned in the hospital. In addition to those mistakes, I also wasn't going to therapy, which I need to go to once a week. I just thought it got in the way of meetings so it wasn't important. That's not how things work. Our bodies/minds are so fragile. You can't put off caring for them until later. They need to be cared for all of the time.

Lastly, I've learned that school does not come first. I come first. I can get a degree but what good is that degree if I'm too depressed to see the fruits of it? So things are going to change. Whether it makes sense to anyone else, or not. If that means medically withdrawing, so be it. If that means quitting things, so be it. If that means graduating late, so be it.

I am okay, and thank you for all of your sweet messages. I know many people suffer from mental illnesses and it doesn't get talked about. Please, let this be a learning lesson. I'm excited to start taking care of myself. 

This post mentions anxiety and depression, so if those are triggers I wouldn’t recommend reading this. 

Okay so on Sunday, I had the worst anxiety attack that I’ve ever had. I couldn’t breathe, and my heart rate was through the roof. I had a test that Monday, and I tried to study through the night, but mentally I couldn’t. I honestly shouldve called the hospital, but I didnt. Oh yeah, I’ve already been clinically diagnosed with chronic depression, and anxiety. I was having suicidal thoughts and considering relapsing.

The next day, I felt weak and unable to take the test, let alone go to any of my classes. I called Health Services and they told me to come in. When I came in, my appointment happened during some of the time I would be taking the test. My doctor gave me two tablets for severe anxiety, so I could sleep through the night. She also re-filled my prescription for my anti-depressant. She gave me a note for my missed classes, and had someone walk me over to the counseling center to make a 3:00 appointment.

I went home to relax, and at 3:40, I am finally seen by a counselor who seems to understand where I am coming from, and all of the stress I am going through. We were only supposed to talk for 15 minutes and ended up talking for 40, which I am grateful for.

Before my counseling appointment I emailed my professor explaining the situation and the documentation. I did not tell him my specific medical reason, because I did not feel like being stigmatized. He responded, asking me when the earliest I could take the test was? Since I had spent all day dealing with my anxiety once again, I definitely couldn’t take the test the next morning. I emailed him saying I could bring him the letter the next morning, and take the test that Wednesday afternoon after looking at his office hours. He does not respond to my email.

At 8:30 AM he answers my email by saying NO I couldnt take the test Wednesday. I needed to take the test immediately that morning, and he would be in his office for 1-2 hours. 

Okay so first of all, who says that I have the physical capacity to get there when I literally told you I couldn’t take it until wednesday. Also, the odds of me checking my email that morning when he sent it, were very freaking slim.

I called the counseling office to ask if my new counselor could write my professor a note because clearly I was not in the right mental state to take the test. The secretary informs me that my counselor won’t be in until 10, so she would take a message. After consultation with some people, I decide to contact the Dean of Students office. 

I personally know the assistant Dean, so he called me back on my phone and informed me that he would have no problem emailing my professor, I just needed to sign a waiver to allow the counseling center to talk to him and let him know I was not in the right mental state.

It is 11:00 and the counselor still has not called me back, even though the secretary claimed that she would leave a message. I call once again, and let them know that I would need the waiver. The secretary tells me to come in.

It’s 11:30 when I come in, and I am given the waiver. However, the counselor is in another meeting so I had to sign the waiver then wait for her. Mind you, my next class starts at 12:30. Anyways, at 12:00 the counselor exits her room and speaks to the secretary rather loudly about my situation. The counselor says she does not understand, and sounds annoyed. 

She comes to me in the PUBLIC waiting room and says what is this? I have no idea what this is? What is this about? I try to explain in the lobby but inform her that I do not feel comfortable telling her there. As we walk back to her room she tells the secretary in front of me that she is annoyed, because Kristina (me) needs to realize that she is on her lunch break and she does not have time for this.

I’m going to break this story up into two parts.

In this part of the story, I am upset. I am upset because my professor is being illogical. I am upset that the documentation for mental health episodes isn’t really put into place. I am upset that my counselor dismissed me, and made me feel worthless. I am weak, I am hungry, I am tired. I know that I would not have to experience any of this had my illness been one that was able to see physically. I feel frustrated. I do not understand why I couldnt take the test wednesday, and I do not understand why I have to miss class again, and I do not understand why the counseling center was giving me the runaround. What if I had been suicidal? You do not make comments like that in the counselors office. Mind you, I have had NUMEROUS unprofessional incidents in the counseling office. It’s stuff like this that makes people drop out of school. Dealing with administration, and counselors that don’t care.

Part Two

At the office she is dismissive and says she can’t say anything about my anxiety since that was the first time seeing me. She is annoyed with me for being there, even though I offered to leave. She also said I had this woe is me vibe and I should think about how that could be detrimental…. I said I don’t feel as though people are out to get me. I feel as though people don’t care. I mean clearly they don’t because she just complained about seeing me..

Okay, so after the counseling office, I’m in tears. I call my mom telling her that I have nothing I can do. I don’t have the option to fail the class, without losing HOPE. I can’t take the test and get a zero.

She tells me to try to see the Assistant Dean of Students personally. I go to his office but he’s in lunch. At this point I feel like giving up. But he comes back, and clears his schedule for me. 

We talk, and he empathizes with me. He says he understands that it is not in my nature to miss a test, and he knows I wouldn’t do it intentionally. He says he understands there was a reason that I was given prescriptions. He emails my professors today, and tells them that I can’t make class. However, he still can’t email the class I had a test in without permission from the counselor who is apparently still on break.

He also informs me that I have a right to file a complaint against the counselor. So basically,I’m just waiting to see if I will be cleared for missing the test. The thing is, even if I’m cleared, the professor still has every right to deny me the chance to take the test.

I’m feeling scared. I’m feeling like I have to prove the severity of my mental illness, which is ridiculous. What if I relapsed and had visible cuts? Then would I be sick enough? What if I went to the hospital? Then would I be sick enough? That is not how this works for any other illness, why must I prove myself now. I also feel dehumanized. It is very traumatic for someone with a mental illness to have to explain deep personal parts of their life several times to people who are relatively strangers. I also feel as though professors shouldn’t have the right to just refuse to listen to the Dean of Students. I feel like I’m so alone. I’ve put so many hours into promoting this school, I’ve been overworked by this school, and definitely underpaid. I do it because I love it, and because this school made me feel as though I was at home. But now I feel as though people don't understand that that my future is in the hands of these people that I pay thousands of dollars to, and I feel as though I've been mistreated. So we will see how everything plays out. I almost had to go to Nutrition but I emailed my professor. He was nice and allowed me to take my test on Thursday, and turn in a project late with no penalty to my grade. So now I’m just waiting. 

If you've made it down to here, I say all of this to let people know that I FINALLY understand why people need to withdraw from school. I get it. I understand. I have never been so tempted until today. The back and forth, the added stress, everything. I get it. 

Had this been any other medical issue I would not have had to do this, and the fact that I did confuses me and makes me upset.

I LOVE my school, but this isn't a Georgia Southern problem. The stigmatization of mental illness is society's problem. 

There's no nice version of street harassment.

I haven't written on here in a while because I've been working on a series of short stories and poems that are probably not suitable for blogspot.

Anyways, by now we've all probably seen the infamous Street Harassment video. If you are relatively involved with social justice, or just happened to stumble across articles written on the video, you've probably seen some analysis of the video. You've probably heard about the fact that all white men were edited out of the video, and the video's director has strong ties to gentrification.

Even though those important aspects of the video sucks, I think that the video brought up Street Harassment, and also sparked many conversations.

I've heard many men confused at the fact that they "just can't say hi," to women anymore.  These men are completely capable of understanding that hollering , whistling, or saying crude things to a woman is not okay. They see how these things can be considered harassment, and they know they would never engage in that type of behavior. They want to remind women that #notallmen. 

That's cool or whatever, but I think we are missing out on a key fact. The fact is, if a woman does not want you to talk to her, she does not have to respond nicely when you do so. 

I don't think men realize how annoying it is to be on the phone, or late to a meeting, and a seemingly nice guy comes up to them to start a conversation. Women simply don't have the time. 

Sometimes women don't want to talk to men because they are not attracted to them. Sometimes the men smell. Sometimes the men are too short, or sometimes the women don't even like men. But now they have to take time out of their busy schedule to feign interest in a guy they will never see again.

Why don't the women just ignore the men? Because they could literally be murdered. If you think this is an exaggeration, turn on any news channel. School shootings have started over women rejecting men. 

I don't think men understand the instant fear that enters many women the second they see a guy eyeing them out of the corner of their eye. It's stress-inducing and sometimes scary. What if women have been victims of sexual assault? What if they have anxiety?

Why must our comfort be sacrificed for the confidence boost of a stranger?

I'm a firm believer in the idea that someone's reaction to something that shouldn't have happened in the first place, can't be judged. Meaning, if you have no business talking to me, I shouldn't be judged if I don't take too kindly to the fact that you're talking to me.

Men have been conditioned to think they are God's gift to women. They have been conditioned to believe that the fact that they took time out of their day to talk to me, is doing me a favor. 

Remember this.

If you aren't paying my bills, if you aren't a relative, if you aren't relevant to my life in any way, I am under no obligation to be nice to you. Especially when you're hitting on me.