Written in 2015, republished in 2019.
In the wake of 2016 I promised myself two things; to publish my writings and to continue living on a healing path. Unfortunately, for the past month or so I have been struggling with publishing a piece I am proud of. Since losing all 100+ of my poems in 2012, I’ve had a bittersweet relationship with poetry. I never forgave myself for losing them, and for four years I wasn't able to write anything, let alone a poem.
So, in order to fulfill my 2016 New Years resolution to break my writers block, I come here to share my healing process with you all (myself). Please excuse any grammatical errors as this is a personal piece.
My healing journey began after a childhood best friend of mine was unexpectedly shot in the leg, which ultimately paralyzed her body from the waist down. I was told this news at my job by another mutual childhood friend. At the time, I just moved into my first apartment and was struggling greatly with my mental and physical health. When I wasn’t at work scrapping food off of plates, I was at home barely surviving. So when she told me the news I immediately disassociated to the point where I was unable to work, and I was given permission to leave.
I felt an overwhelming pain that sent my mental and physical health to crisis mode. Already fallen, broken, and lifeless due to previous events; I began self deteriorating. I became lost in a world full of lovelessness and violence, I grew weak and irritable and began to purposefully hurt myself in order feel.
I fell victim to my own pain.
After a month of intense suffering, I broke from the shackles of my misery and demanded to live, and freely at that. No one force could bring me to such as powerful decision, the decision to live freely, other than the perplexing force of poetry.
Subsequently, I was faced with a great challenge; what does my purpose mean in a society where my worth is compared to animals? What does my life matter in a society where Black queer and trans folks are either ignored or murdered? I forgot while deciding to live, that I am living within the means of White, cishet supremacy.
With the guidance and love of my mother, and the spirits that accompany me, I was able to realize something very important. My worth, my strength, and my life lies within loving myself. As tacky as that may sound, one must be able to listen to, and nurture themselves if they wish to live freely. I decided to no longer center my worth around the ignorance of Whiteness.
Since then I have discovered many things about myself and the world I live in. I am learning to accept the change we live in, I walk slowly and try to exist with the present, when the wind blows I follow it.
