I called Al-Anon. In tears. Ugly, snotty, gasping for air type ass tears. The lady on the other end of the line was patient as I struggled to ask for where the meetings be at. Knowing good, damned...
12 years, 10 months. Approximately 4,687.27 days. A few drug regimens. Stigmatizing traumas. A HIV- negative child. What feels like 1,000 and 1 doctor's appointments. 502 stabs to my left arm. Because...
I dunno. Yay February!?! These short 28 days of Black History! A time when the world tries to act like they actually give a damn about Black people.
Awwwww shit. Here comes the uncomfortable feelings. The ones that come when I don't have a man by my side. I'm going to try to explain what I'm feeling, which is hard because I don't really believe...
Do you know what I am going to do IF I HAVE TO ATTEND ONE MORE GOT DAMNED VIRTUAL MEETING?
You ever met somebody who had ALL the STDs? Welp, that would be me. Well, maybe not all of them. But I have enough. So you know about the HIV. Blah blah blah. But I wasn't so pressed to tell you about...
Never would I ever think that I would be the one telling the story from this side. But they told us never to say never anyways, so I guess that is where I first went wrong. The second misstep happened...
Heal, they said. It will make you feel better, they lied. Whew, chile! I must say that my healing adventure has been quite a one.
I talk often about finding the silver lining in the dark times in our lives... ... yet, I am fully aware of how difficult this can be at times.
¿Recibe nuestro boletín?
Sign up for our monthly Newsletter and get the latest info in your inbox.
Suscríbase a nuestro boletín mensual y reciba la información más reciente en su bandeja de entrada.
