Me vs. Myself vs. I

The victor: my anxiety
The reigning champion: my depression

I would have never thought to see the day where I let my anxiety get to me. I’m stronger than this – I fucking KNOW I am… But here I am, succumbing to the depths of my own [negative] thoughts, allowing myself to be consumed by the backlogs of my memory, being absorbed by the white noise of whatever is going on in my mind.

It’s hard to explain to someone, really. That’s why I don’t talk much. Also because I know the catalyst of my situation and I don’t want to be judged for it. But it’s whatever – it’s always whatever.

Don’t get me wrong, though. I am more than grateful for the individuals in my life that have reached out and uplifted my mindset. I am more than grateful for the individuals in my life that always radiate love into our conversations, joy, happiness, laughter. Words cannot express how thankful I am for the handful that have kept my spirits up.

But I am so exhausted of living like I am full when really, I feel nothing. I’m numb again. My happiness can only last for so long and I cry every time because I’ve missed such a feeling. I’m really tired of this constant up and down of emotions, the continual fluctuation of feeling up and ready versus down and out. But more times I just don’t feel like doing anything.

It has reached the point where I feel the need to be intoxicated to hit the tip of the iceberg that is my so-called happiness. Lol shit makes me sad just thinking about it as I typed it…

You win, anxiety. You beat me again, depression.

I’m off it.


An Open Reflection: Views

If you’re reading this, I still hope that you are doing well… I hope that you no longer find refuge at the bottom of every bottle… I hope that you are taking care of yourself… I hope that you have found the love within yourself that you have been longing for.

It’s the one year anniversary of the release of Views.

Nothing note-worthy to most, but to me this album brought a lot back into my life.

I was in this toxic cycle with this guy for two years. I say toxic because it did a lot of damage to me emotionally and mentally yet I kept going back; I don’t know the repercussions he had to go through but I can imagine they were somewhat similar. (I eventually found out about the things he had to go through, but I’ll get to that later.)

I will start by saying this: we were both young and had no intentions, period.

Yet I managed to fall first and fast, and somewhere along the line he did too. But here is the catch (ironic of me to use this word), we never talked. We never once spent the time to get to know each other – it was only trivial. We traveled distances yet never took that same effort to start a conversation. It was a constant back and forth of days of lust and only hitting the surface levels. I misunderstood our connection for something more and so I craved it because it felt good to me at the time. I thought that because we vibed so well and knew each other without words, it was something deeper. And once upon a time ago, I thought he was my soulmate because he just got it. He simply understood my passions and saw them, too. He played the right music to get into my mind… He knew what to do to get into my soul.

This went on for two years. Yeah, two fucking years. Though I met people in between, I was always looking for him in the men I sought. It was pieces of him, whether it was his knowledge of music, his passion for the music, his humour, his gentleness… I would always search for his name in others’.

I laugh as I write this now because I have learned so much from my experiences with him but what broke me almost entirely is what unfolded last year.

I remember a lot of things, most things – I remember the things that hit me in the heart… Sometimes they haunt me, sometimes they remind me of how much I have grown, sometimes they remind me of what was lost. Nonetheless, a remembrance of a learning experience.

I still remember the day that he finally asked me out so that we can get to know each other better. This conversation was a whole entire 6 hours of him implying I was his dream girl, how I can be his tour manager and how we could fuck up the world together, (me reflecting on this now) him feeding me nonsense… But I remember how happy I was because this was what I was waiting for, for two fucking years. We were to go before he left for vacation before the end of the year.

What crushed me was the fact that it never fucking happened. I even gave him the benefit of the doubt and waited until he came back in the new year. Days turned into weeks until I got fed up. So fed up that I deleted him off of everything. Mind you, during the two years of back and forth and all of the others in between, he was the only one I had kept on my social media – everyone else was deleted, blocked, or simply forgotten.

I wasn’t hurt until one night (months later) I went to a party with my cousins and he was there. I’m smiling as I type this because I remember the night so vividly. His attempts at trying to catch my attention were petty but I noticed them, just paid them no mind.

Then I went back to that same party the next week, this time with just one of my cousins. And yup, he was there. And yup, he came back with full force, this time grabbing my full attention by drunkenly serenading me to Bryson Tiller’s Don’t.

God, that night was a drunken hot mess.

We ended up talking in the back of the venue – him going on to explain EVERYTHING. How sorry he was for putting me through the whole ordeal, how it crushed him when he noticed that I unfollowed/blocked/deleted him off everything… How my action put him in this state… How he should have told me he wasn’t ready… How he suffers from anxiety (at this point I told him I was diagnosed with depression)… How he felt lost… How I didn’t deserve any of this…

Then I let him kiss me. If you got this far, you’re probably screeching HOW COULD YOU?! I didn’t let him just kiss me, though. It was one of those it’s-been-forever-and-I-really-wanted-this type joints. Those I-crave-you type joints. Them I-love-you type joints. Maybe it was love, maybe it was lust. But it was definitely the liquid courage that powered all of this.

And I left with his number in my phone again. (My mistake, right?) (You say, Right.)

And my mistake that definitely was because when I reached home (aka my cousin’s place for the night) after this scene, a lot more happened.

We ended up talking until the sun rose…

We ended up talking about Views because it had dropped that week, and well, he dedicated the album to me. Told me he thinks of me whenever Redemption plays. Said he wants to get to know me to Fire & Desire. Said I was his muse… Said he has so much love for me… Said it’s been me all along…

And of course I gave him another chance (this is where the audience sighs in disappointment). I wanted to see what would happen – what finally could happen.

Fast forward to present day, I can say that you can take a wild guess at where we stand now.

We don’t.

We talked everything out, some more things occurred… And, well, at least we are okay with each other. No bad blood, no animosity between us.

The biggest lesson here is to obviously not wait for no man – EVER. I knew I didn’t deserve to be used for convenience yet I still stayed. Why? I guess it’s because I wanted that partnership no matter how faint it was. I guess it’s because it was all I really knew so I settled for that. I guess it’s because I didn’t act on knowing the true value of who I was as a woman. And it took me two years of this shit for me to accept it and move on, knowing that it was not meant to be. That we were not meant to be.

I knew I didn’t deserve it at all. I knew he didn’t deserve what I had to bring to the table. I knew I deserved to be treated better. I knew that there was more for me out there. But I settled for the thrill, the temporary high, the almost enough.

Almost is never enough.

And the day that I finally let go of our possibilities was the day that I felt freed.


An Open Reflection: My First Time Going to Church in Two Years

Tonight was the first time I had gone to church in two years.

It was weird because even in being in that church from the last time I had gone in January 2015, I had stopped regularly going to church back in 2012/2013. I would only go to church for Easter/Lent and Christmas. So my attendance was extremely sparse in that time.

I always saw myself as more spiritual than religious and had refused going to church regularly as I grew into adolescence and young adulthood. I thought it was useless and a waste of my time, to be honest. At first it was a rebellious act against my parents forcing me to go every Sunday (it was a part of our traditions/culture). But as I got older I wanted to explore the spiritual world as separate from religion.


Walking into church for the first time in two years felt so… nostalgic. I grew up in this church. It was the church that my family and all of my cousins went to, and we all grew up there together.

I thought it was odd for me to have not forgotten the prayers and the mannerisms… I literally remembered them all without even looking at the projected words. I was surprised at myself but at the same time this was ingrained.

One of the priests there was talking about Jesus being the light for the man in the dark… I started to tear up from then because I started to think that I was the man in the dark… I’ve been in this place of darkness for so long now and I didn’t know what to do so I thought church would be a plausible solution for my spiritual self. I didn’t know how to help myself anymore so I thought that maybe God could help me… I started thinking of my prayer as he was speaking…

When I got up to take the bread, I started to cry.

Then when I went back to our pew to kneel and pray, I closed my eyes and cried even more.

God, it’s been two years since I’ve last been here and spoken to you. I don’t know what to do anymore. Nobody can help me. I am no longer able to help myself… I don’t know how to help myself anymore. I thought that I would be able to but I’ve hit my absolute bottom so I thought that coming to You would be of help. And I think that when people sink to their absolute bottom, they seek God for help. So here I am… Trying to look for help…

I don’t know who I am anymore… There is this gaping hole in my chest. I am still capable of love, believe me, I am  full of love, but my heart does not beat the same. My chest is heavy, my head is heavy, my heart is heavy… I can’t seem to get back up sometimes but I promise you that I’m fighting. I’m fighting so hard because I don’t want to die again. I do not want to die again.

I just wanted to thank You for blessing me with my friends and my family and an outlet to release my pain… I want to thank You for giving me them because I would have probably killed myself already. Although I know I do not have the strength to do that, I know I do have the strength to think of doing such things… So thank You for giving me them.


I’m not going to lie. I don’t know if I will be back at church next week, or the week after that and what have you. I needed You so badly tonight, though. I needed that light.

I don’t know how much longer I can push myself but I promise I’m still fighting.









My favourite play in the book
but I stand frozen
unable to take the shot…


This is what I like to do when I go through some shit: isolate.

I isolate myself from everyone because I don’t want to burden them with my problems. I don’t want to burden them with my negativity. Nobody wants to deal with another’s problems. Everyone has their own shit to deal with, so why add onto their plate?

They’re my friends, they’re there for me, supporting me. I get it.

But I’d rather deal(suffer) on my own… I know they’re tired of hearing the same fucking story. Shit, I’m even tired of telling it because I hear the same responses repeatedly.

You’re one of the strongest people I know
You’ll get through this
You’ve been through this before, don’t worry
You’ll be fine
It gets better

Shit like that. It’s endearing but quite frankly I’m tired of it. I feel like I have to be strong to show everybody the power of resilience and picking yourself up again and mending your heart, blah blah blah, because that’s who I “am”. That is how I’ve built myself – from the rubble up, countless times.

But I’m convinced that the world doesn’t want to see a weak me.

I’m sick of pretending that I’m okay and getting by and dealing with it.
Are you okay?
No I’m not fucking okay but I’ve written so many lines on my face that it looks like a smile, that I look like I’m okay.

I thought I was getting better but it seems I’ve gotten better at suppressing how I truly feel.

I’m exhausted.

I just want to stay isolated and not interact with the outside world. Just leave me alone and let me crumble in peace (or pieces).




You look slim.

Well, yeah. I’ve been carrying my own weight on my back for the past three weeks. So of course, I’ve lost some of me along the way.

I don’t know how much longer I can continue like this, to be honest. I’ve fallen before and it took me one whole month of darkness, followed by the anguish of crawling out of that hole, to realize that I was the light at the end of the tunnel.

But I don’t want to fall again. I’m trying so fucking hard not to fall again, believe me. I do not want to fall again.

That dark place frightens me… I was the most numb I have ever been in my life and I do not want to go back to that lack of feeling anything.

But I know I’m slipping. I feel myself slipping. It never hit me until my sister told my mother to hug me because I was sad. Was my emptiness that evident? Of course it was – I always forget that my eyes never lie.

It never hit me until my friends told me that they needed me here, that I was irreplaceable, that they wanted me to stay. A simple four letter word, yet I laid in my bed bawling because I think they were thinking I was going to leave… Like I was even thinking of it………………. Maybe. But where would I even go? I can’t just fall off the face of the earth… Though I have started to slowly remove myself from the social face of the earth… I’ve already off’ed myself from there. I no longer care to show face on these platforms.

I no longer care to put on a show for people.

It never hit me until I prayed to God to make sure that I’ll be okay.

You stay asking me if I’m okay when you know me better than I know myself (sometimes… most times). I know you know that I’m not. What the fuck do you want me to say? What do you really want me to say?

That I’m still only functioning because I have responsibilities that I cannot stray from?
That I’m still only functioning because I’m working towards achieving my goals?
That I’m still only functioning because I’m forcing myself to be strong for one more day?

Do you know how fucking hard it is to “normally” function while having another episode?

Everyday is a new battle with the same boss in a different form.

Please believe me when I say I’m fighting it. Please believe me.
Please believe me when I say I’m trying. I’m trying so hard.
Please believe me when I say I come out a winner every time.

And I do. But is there even a point in me winning when I have nobody to share this victory with? It’s not the same.

I come out more victorious than the last but I can feel my demons creeping up on me. They’re creeping up ever so slyly and I know they’re going to strike out of the blue one day.
I tell myself I’m much stronger than this and that I’ve been through much worse and have pulled through. I tell myself that I’m a much bigger boss than these levels I face but everyday is a new battle and I never get a chance to rest.

I said I would be waiting for you at the finish line
but I don’t even know if I can take another step.

I know there is no expiry date on recovery or healing time but I’m exhausted of dragging myself to fight myself another day when all I want to do is just lay down and sleep for a long while…

I’m trying, I swear…



The things only you would understand

  • Good morning
  • Apples have become onions – I can’t stop crying when I slice them…
  • I feel like Pablo but who is Pablo without Tata?
  • I don’t know if I can continue watching Narcos…….
  • I walk on the inside of the sidewalk
  • I check my phone before walking into the subway station, ready to send that station text
  • I check my phone the second I ascend from the escalator, ready to send that station text
  • Who am I supposed to text saying I got home safely?
  • What about when I almost miss my bus stop?
  • Safe, civilized suburban streets
  • I want to get 6+ hours of sleep (7-8 is the goal)
  • Smoking isn’t the same no more
  • Smile
  • It’s hard to listen to vibes when you’re not around
  • Hands clasped, thumbs pressing
  • Dramatics
  • Party Animal
  • We Can
  • Pine & Ginger
  • It’s a not o
  • Brownin
  • Waste yute
  • I’m wearing earrings again
  • Who’s supposed to be my dance partner?
  • Who am I going to read my articles to before I send them to my editor?
  • I’m slowly retiring from concerts…
  • Who the fuck am I supposed to send all these memes to?!
  • Bitmoji lovers lol
  • I started praying again.. Not every day but often
  • I prayed for you
  • I’m considering going to church again
  • You were my first prayer in almost four years
  • I can never DNA you
  • I will never DNA you
  • I said it because I meant it, because I am grateful for all that you’ve done
  • I don’t know where you were years ago, but I was lost… You wouldn’t have wanted her
  • Nobody will deter my dreams
  • Writing is therapeutic but you’ve become my muse
  • “What’s wrong?” *confesses my stresses after the third ask* lol
  • I thank God
  • Sleep well
  • Good night