4 Months Til' I'm 25
God, please continue to bless these twenty-somethings.
On November 10th of this year I’ll be turning 25 years old, which is crazy as fuck to type out. I couldn’t always see myself at my current age, let alone 5 years from being 30. Around 15yo my anxiety started attempting to convince me that I’d somehow tragically pass away before then, thank God for Zoloft and CBT. I’ve always needed a little help staying on the happier side of things, and as I’ve grown I’ve come to attribute it to prior trauma as well as the trauma that I still carry in my body from my ancestors. (I’m writing this mainly to experiment and decipher if the pre-frontal cortex rhetoric is really real LMAO)
Just since last December I’ve landed a corporate job making $55k/year, got the car from my vision board, lost my corporate job making $55k/year, got engaged, and enrolled back into college, volunteered at a local farm. I started going to a psychiatrist instead of a therapist, I started Lexapro + beta blockers, and my current circumstance doesn’t require me to work a traditional job. I’m interviewing this Monday to potentially start coaching girls soccer. I’ve secretly always been able to see myself as a kids sports coach being that I was a student athlete myself, and my reality is randomly starting to reflect the joy I find in impacting my community’s youth.
Its almost like everything I have every wanted just flooded into my life at once after I decided it was time for me to accept ease. It was painful, embarrassing, and my old co-workers @ my corprorate job literally saw me crash all the way out. I wouldn't change it for the world though. I enjoy the fact that they were able to see my humanity more than anything else and I’m proud of that. Corporations don’t make happy employees, they make survivors and that simply was never my portion. I’ve survived enough. My suffering isn’t a badge of honor, it’s actually quite the opposite. It’s the fuel behind my most lethal insults, and the bane of my existence.
I found such comfort in my pain and lack of wellness. I appreciated that it showed me parts of myself that I didn’t always know existed, and gave me a chance to desensitize myself to discomfort, though not always in a healthy way. Nonetheless I’m grateful for all of the experiences that have led up to this time in my life. I’ve come to love the best and worst parts of who I am, and am always open to change. I accept that my desire to protect and preserve myself has always been a strength, never ever a weakness. I love that I’m passionate about literally any topic I find interesting, I love that I’m motivated by guilt and am able to not allow said guilt to keep me bound in cycles of self-shaming, I love that I’m empathetic and compassionate. I love that I’m a woman. A black woman. And I love that I’m doing well. I love that I’m letting light in after a hard time and am connecting with people I love. I love that no matter how guarded I attempt to make myself, the real real always finds me. Or maybe it’s ‘some Scorpio shit’, I don’t really know.