Gettin To Better!

What the hell have I been doing?   Well Lovely's, if I had an ounce of shame in my body, I would be wayyyy to embarrassed to tell you that I've been watching Netflix. But since my shame went out of the window when I started talking about my sex life 22 years ago, Netflix it is.

 I think I've watched about ten years of television shows in a sum total of 4 months. Well, honestly it's more than 10 years if you add up the 8 seasons of House, 4 seasons of The  Killing, 2 seasons of  House of Cards, 3 seasons of Law and Order, 2 seasons of Star Track the Next Generation, 6 seasons of Star Trek Deep Space Nine, 6 seasons of Luther, 9 seasons of Criminal Minds, 8 seasons of Foyle's War, 3 seasons of The Borgias, 5 seasons of Damages, 4 seasons of The Tudors, 2 seasons of Hack, 8 seasons of Dexter, 3 seasons of The Guardian and 1 season of Lie To Me. Not to name the movies and documentaries I've watched.

Yep, Netflix has been my go to as I go through this depression. If you recall, back at the beginning of the fall I confessed that I was tired of my complicated ass life and in the back drop of my dog Sophie's death, it all sent me into a depression. A part of me wanted to give up, but I didn't want to die. So Netflix replaced anything remotely productive in my life.  You can read my original blogs on my depression here. 

Seriously, these last 7 months have been interesting to say the least. I found myself in a space that I loathed but accepted in a healthy way so that I could get back to a better place. The overachiever in me made a difficult but smart decision, that is, to de-pressure myself from be all and do all. I just accepted my right now. I found that accepting my current state of mind gave me the space to really work on my dark places without the added pressure of, "I have to be OK because that's what everyone expects." 

While Netflix was my safe place, therapy has been the place where I've worked it all out. Both my therapist and psychiatrist have worked feverishly to help me.  I'm fully medicated now and we think that my hormones are leveling out. This menopause stuff is no joke and when you add that on top of the depression, I was one lost woman. 

I can see vast improvements from those early days. Espically in the days right after I lost Sophie.  I was so grief stricken that I couldn't function. My new puppy Chloe is 8 months now and spoil beyond any honest explanation. Other than, I was so grief stricken when I got her that I spent all of my time with her. She was only 3 pounds when I brought her home and I took her every place that I could get away with. But now Chloe is so attached that she expects to walk out of the door with me every time I go *smh* I created a monster. LOL  But her feisty personality was what I needed. She demanded that I live. Who knew that six pounds of fur could be that demanding and so full of life.

I knew that I had to get to a better place, so I started out slowly. I started with things that didn't require much of me.

Chloe demanded that I got out of bed each morning. That was my starting place. I had to get to better, but I didn't pressure myself. I just took it one day at a time. One project at a time. I did stuff that was easy, like de-cluttering my house. All I had to do was sit on the sofa and go through papers while I watched Netflix. LOL, but for real. This project didn't require that I dress up and be the center of it all. I went through years of papers and when I finished, I had like eight garbage bags, but most importantly I felt accomplished but not overwhelmed.

 As time went on, I began to gain interest in those  things that I enjoy the most. We take for granted the small things. I was so paralyzed by depression that even reading required to much of me. People tell you to just do it, but they have no idea how hard it is. I'm happy to say that time has gotten me to a better place and I'm reading and knitting again. My two favorite things on the planet. I also started painting. Many of you may know that I've been collecting art for over 20 years, but you might not know that I've always wanted to paint. About a month ago I got me some paint and brushes and the rest is history. I even enrolled in a drawing and painting class. YEY! for trying something new.

The hardest part for me has been work. I managed to get my 20 Collection completed by the time the Essence article was released celebrating the 20th anniversary of the iconic cover story. I kept up with the bracelet orders for the most part. A few people fell through the cracks, but I did my best each day.

I've completed a couple of blogs after the one about my depression.  I wanted to blog more but staying focus has been a challenge. While I have all these thoughts floating in my head, writing them down seemed like torture. I didn't force it. Adding pressure only added to my misery. Remember, one of the root causes of my depression was my super woman complex. I had to let her go to heal.  At least I got this blog completed and I see more in my future. Thanks for hanging in here with me.

I am also happy to say that I've been editing my memoir, Unprotected. I decided that it was time to tell the whole story about my crazy life that made me crazy. I've held on to the manuscript for seven years. When Hypierion Publishers walked away from the book deal I was crushed. 

Looking back, I understand that this is "my" story, not "a" story. I'm taking my ownership back, not just of the physical property but also the intellectual property. I have a right to tell my story how the hack I want. I said in the recent Essence's article on me that my memoir was to be released in March. I've pushed the date back because unrealistic, breakneck to get it done is not good for my emotional state.  May 2015 is the new release date. I'm planning my photo shot for the cover in April.    Thanks to everyone that have already pre-ordered my memoir. 

Honestly these last seven months have been one heck of a journey. The most useful thing in getting to a better place has been setting goals that are realistic. For example, my psychiatrist gave me the task of taking a shower everyday and I made the necessary adjustment to get it done.  I knew that I had to follow the plan to get better. What I found though, if I didn't get in the shower right after I brushed my teeth, it just might not happen that day. For real, I'm serious. It was so bad that showering required to much of me. Depression has this haunting way of interfering with your life and I've had to take baby steps to get to space that I'm in now. 

So here I am! I've made so much progress. My sadness is gone and the biggest thing for me is working on my anxiety. I'm not quite where I would like to be, but I'm better than what I was. For sure, I've taken it all in stride. I've done it one day at a time. Yep, I'm gettin to better! In the meantime, I'm honoring the space between no longer and not yet.

Reflecting on Essence at 20 Years!

This time 20 years ago, I was the talk of Black America. My cover story in the December issue of Essence magazine had hit the new stands. Essence had dared to put a woman on the cover of their magazine that was not a celebrity or a super model, but a typical young black women, living with AIDS.

I was every young black woman who thought that she was doing everything right in her dating life. Despite of the fact that I had grown up in a physically, emotionally and sexually abusive household, I had managed to escape, drugs and alcohol. I had gone to college. I had a professional career.

I had done everything I thought to do as a young woman living in the 80's. I never had a one night. I never had sex on the first date, but I was in search of the right man to live my fairy tail life, for the rest of my life. You know, a career, a husband, a house and 2.5 kids, that's two kids and a dog. With dating came sex. There were very few virgins in the 80's. This was the era of Marvin Gaye's "Sexual Healing and Diana Ross, "Love Hangover." Sexually Transmitted diseases were not on the radar. The first cases of AIDS were primarily white, gay and male. Even as late as 1987 Cosmopolitan magazine told women if they only had "heterosexual sex," they could not get HIV.  For the most part, the rule for young women of my generation was to not get pregnant out of wedlock and embarrass your mother. We saw "protection" as birth control pills.

Until 1991 when Magic Johnson announced that he was infected with HIV most of us in Black America only saw HIV/AIDS through the eyes of our gay relative on one end and our drug addict cousin on the other.  Or the television version, white, gay, male that looked like death was knocking at their door. Even then, we thought Magic was an exception to the rule. Many dismissed him as a "special case." Rich, good looking, and famous, we concluded that he probably had enough sex for a hundred men, thats how he became infected. Since most of us don't have that kind of sex, HIV was out of our reach, so we thought.

Then came me and the Essence cover story.  I had only been speaking for about six months when Susan Taylor asked me to be on the cover and tell my story. At the time, I had been infected with HIV since 1983, but I didn't learn about my status until I donated blood December 1986.

So when I appeared on the cover of Essence, I had actually known my HIV status for 7 years.  But for the most part I had basically kept my status a secret. Other than the men I dated, those first seven years I only told 5 people. When I made a transition to AIDS in 1992, I started to disclose to my friends. Then on a fluke, about a year later or should I say in God's purpose and plan, I started speaking locally in Chicago high schools. Then I met Susan. It all happened so quickly.  I had no idea the impact my story would have on the lives of others or on me; or that it would place me in the national arena and change my life forever.

In retrospect, it was our density, mine and Essence magazine. Even among Essence staff there was a debate over my cover story. It was pure audacity at the time. I thank God for His perfect plan and for giving both me and Susan Taylor the, editor and chief of Essence  the courage to follow that little voice inside of us, that said "this feels right. "For years women have told me the impact my story had on their life. Women still bring that magazine to speaking engagements for autographs.

There were other controversies around the cover story. Many AIDS Activist were angry with me because of the title., "Im Young, I'm Young free, I'm Dying of AIDS." Declaring that I was dying on the cover of a national magazine they said, made HIV/AIDS dark and hopeless. But honestly, AIDS was that dark back then and to give some pep talk contrary to the current situation would have been a lie. I was proud and not deterred by criticism.

Twenty years later, my Essence cover story has become one of the most iconic articles of the HIV/AIDS pandemic and I humbled.

I am equally thankful that I lived to see the 20th anniversary of this cover story. I thank God for my doctor who never gave up on me when  medications barley kept you alive. She was always looking for next; And no matter how complicated the next treatment was or how sick it made me I did it.

 I am also grateful for the continued relationship with Essence magazine. You can check out the 20th anniversary feature story on me in the December 2014 issue. You can also watch my video interview with Essence HERE

If you missed the December issue featuring me at the newsstands, you can read it HERE

Foot Note: In Celebration of the 20th anniversary... RLT Collection is 20% off! Coupon Code RLT20 And take a peak at the 20 Collection  that I designed in honor. Fab Bracelet designs all in red. SHOP HERE
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

One Day At A Time!

For the last few months I've been sitting still. Not because I didn't want to move but I've just been stuck. Depression has that way on you. It seems to just grab you and not let go. It paralyzes you in the worst kind of way. 

Over the years I've had mild bouts of depression but nothing on this magnitude since I transitioned to AIDS twenty- two years ago. Back then I thought that I was never going to get AIDS and when I did, it caused the worst mental health crisis of my life.  I cried all day and I was barely making it through my daily routine. I started medication but I think the turning point was when I started speaking at high schools here in Chicago. God gave my life new purpose and meaning and that turned things around.  

But this time there has been no turning point just slow progress. 

Over the last couple of years I've had so much trauma in my life. Any one thing could have triggered depression but combined they were the monster that paralyzed me. People take trauma lightly, but it has an impact on ones life. Over these years my health has required so much to manage. 

On and off IV medication to treat the drug resistant herpes because my immune system can't fight it off with regular pills. My veins becoming occluded as a result, not one but two ports placed that didn't work. Diarrhea I couldn't control, then constipation with no relief. And I still have 15 pills to take a day.  My finances hitting so rock bottom with no speaking engagements in sight. It's more than a notion to have to choose between groceries or  your light bill. Then being kicked out of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority over my tweets and the unkindness that followed. Women who called me sister turned on me because I dared to speak up. And quite as it's kept, some still dig at me via social media. Then my precious poodle Sophie died in July. One week she was barking for bacon and then the next week I was told she had cancer.  She became so sick in a matter of a week I had to put her down. 

Then let's not forget, HIV itself effects the neurons in the brain that effects your Serotonin.  Those living with HIV are prone to depression. So over the years I've been on and off antidepressants to keep it in tack. But I was caught off guard when Sophie died. I had been off Zoloft for a few months and before I realized it I was so far gone into a deep depression. Depression is a strange illness. It not only takes away your joy but simple things like daily living. It paralyzes you in a way that even taking a shower is to overwhelming. 

The fighter in me knew that I was in trouble back in August. My therapist and I shifted gears. For a while I was having sessions twice a week. Then she referred me to a incriable psychiatrist. The psychiatrist wasn't taking any new patients, but when I called she was the one to actually answer the phone, and bam I'm in!  So she's been working to get me properly medicated these last couple of months. And they both have been working to help me fight depression as best as I can. The way God works is awesome. He seems to get me what I need, you just have to be willing to go for it.

At first I was guilty that super woman hadn't kicked in. I kept telling myself, "Pull it together girl." But honestly, I didn't have the energy to push or pull. Depression takes away everything but your breath.

Then I had to accept that this is an illness like any other and you have to do what you can each day, one day at time.  Now, for sure you have to do something or it will consume you. But I had to accept that my something is baby steps. But baby steps are better than no steps.  This has been hard for a super woman like me. But I accept my victories whatever they are and however they come.  Like I've showered everyday for the last three weeks and actually read my morning devotional with tea. I was going two-three days without a shower. For real y'all. The last two weeks I've opened my computer that was a victory a small step that got me here today writing a blog for the first time in two months. Understand something, depression is so overwhelming that even opening the computer can be to much. 

So I take my small victories in this war on the way to winning this battle. But I'm not letting shame or pressure to be what people need me to be to guide what I do or don't do. If I feel like posting on Social Media I do. If I feel like talking or responding to a text or call I do. But if I don't oh well, prayerfully there will be another day.  

For sure I can see progress. I have come a long way since my Sophie died. I know that God still has work for me. I have not given up, even if it seems like I have. I'm just fighting this battle, One Day At A Time.