Nike as motivation

Saturday, July 25, 2009

I've had a hard time recently. I am battling half of myself. The half of me that likes to convince that it is easier not to try, not to get out of bed, not to bother. This is the half that caused me to drop out of college when I got pregnant. It is very clever at creating excuses that make loads of sense. I used to think this half was simply a lazy gene a high school counselor told me I had as I barely graduated. But I now understand it is depression that I battle. It comes and goes. Mostly goes. But when it's here, it makes sure no one is unaware. I stop answering my phone and won't even check voice mails. Everything irritates me. And everything becomes next to impossible to attempt. Usually, I just lay down, all day, and hope it will leave. Sleeping means I can't overeat, I can't yell at anyone, and I don't have to have the 'recognize your higher self' pep talks my hubby likes to give. He's good at them actually. And they are quite effective after we've gotten past me throwing books at him. When I'm like this I just want to be left alone, however, that tends to be a main trigger of these episodes. When I have nothing to do, I began to feel useless. I detest feeling so. I thrive off of being useful. Particularly, I enjoy being knowledged on little known, yet gravely important truths. And I enjoy enlightening others, unintentionally. I notice I tend to assume everything I know is common knowledge. Therefore, at times, I get exasperated with regular folk. This category includes the undergrads I advise via our Black Affairs Council. I am constantly astounded when I hear myself saying stuff like, you've never heard of Little Brother? You do know the student center has more than three floors; has so may scholarships you can apply for; It's considered inappropriate to tell people what you want to pledge and even worse for you to imitate their strolls and signs; All blacks ain't Christian; Original Egyptians were not the same color as me; The bible was commissioned by Constantine; The banjo comes from Africa; Integration hurt us more than helping us and so forth and so on. I mean these are all little things, but I figured everyone knew this stuff. My point. My point is that this makes me feel useful. I currently have several things I can do to feel useful, but I have had a hard time motivating myself to get to it. Just do it. Nike.

I am trying to just do it. I know I can accomplish any and all I set my mind to. But I can't seem to set my mind on anything. I haven't even been motivated to type. But I am pressing ever onward. I thought to myself today, I have a healthy family, my husband is Mr. Wonders, my kid is the cutest, I'm beautiful, healthy, inspirational (I am told), I am on the path I have set out for myself. I have concluded my human self, as opposed to my detachable spirit, is doing what Westernized humans do. I am trying to find reasons to be unhappy. I have a wonderful life except for this depression that I can't seem to kick. I can ignore it and delay it but it always returns.

I chatted with one of my online buddies yesterday and she was telling me how she has so much she can do creatively but her thing is finding the time. I told her just go after it and time will be made. I need to tell myself that. I just have to do what it is I want and it will get done. Just do it. My new mantra. Just do it.


No response to “Nike as motivation”
Post a Comment | Post Comments (Atom)

Post a Comment

Righteous Black Chic. Citrus Pink Blogger Theme Design By LawnyDesignz Powered by Blogger