Reset

I thought about taking my life in April of 2021. Thought about it …. Prayed on it, prayed for salvation and prayed for rain. My mind never prepared itself for  mud. I imagined what life would be like for those around me; the nieces and nephews I never got to see grow up because, in a moment of sadness and despair, I felt as if it was my only way out. I thought about the person who would find me, and how they would live with that trauma … would they get counseling? Would they persevere? Or would they be so overcome with remorse that, they too, would see no other way out? 

I reflected on how tremendously devastating it was when I lost my sister in 2009, and my brother in 2016. It was one of those out of body experience; sure, I lived it. I recall those days, so vividly, when I couldn’t even get out of the bed. When I would close my eyes and see their faces - I thought about our last conversations, and if I could go back, the things I would say differently. That final, “I love you sis/bro.” 

It would’ve hit differently.

I thought about my calling in life, and how I’ve been so close, yet so far from achieving all of those dreams. In an instant, all of it would’ve been gone.  I’ve always felt as if I needed to be strong for the world around me, because I spent my time encouraging others and telling them how amazing they are and yet, I looked in the mirror and couldn’t do the same. I had been dealing with too much pain, and couldn’t process fully. 

So, I challenged myself to write …. Just write. Because, it saved my life once before, and somehow, I knew it would again. And yet, writing still didn’t seem to be enough. So I turned to the ones closest to me for just a little bit of inspiration, a little bit of power to get me going. No, nothing was solved overnight. I realized it took time … patience with myself. Because, for the first time in a long time, I was finding a way to “re-build” Alana - not the “Alana” I once knew. Somebody …. Better …. Somebody happier. By no means am I perfect, but I’ve been trying and it feels damn good. 

I’m becoming who looks in the mirror and was proud of the person they’ve become. I’m going to therapy, and learning to set boundaries with the people around me. From the outside looking in, it may seem like I have it all together - people want to constantly push that, “You’re so strong,” narrative, and on the inside, we’re crumbling.

They want to tell you how they, “couldn’t imagine being in your shoes,” and trust me, they wouldn’t want to. That smile you carry everyday, frail as it may be, simply hides all of the pain you’ve been masking. I thank God for better days, and I thank those around me who may never know, but they saved my life.

To you, I am so grateful.

No, this hasn’t been easy. It’s funny, of all the classes I took throughout my years in school, there was never one that prepared me for “Life.” No classes dealing with sadness, nothing on grief …. Nothing on setting boundaries for yourself and truly learning to love the skin you’re in. Then again, I don’t think I would’ve listened. Not because I was a bad student, but because I always assumed I would never be “that person.” How truly selfish and naive I was to believe something so silly. 

You see, we never know when those feelings or thoughts will take over, and when they do, sometimes we simply feel stuck. To my family and friends, all I can say is, “thank you.” Thank you for those phone calls randomly throughout the day … for getting me out of the house, and for letting me cry when I couldn’t do anything else. Looking back, I only wish that this pain would’ve gone away sooner. In the end, it all happened for a reason and I needed to embrace the change happening in my life. The darkness surrounded me …. It consumed me. I was simply … numb. Eventually, there’s light … and I am so grateful I found it. And in that light, I’ve found peace, joy …. Black girl joy. All I can say is … I love it here.