Soul Conversations #healthruwriting

  Oh boy, where do I begin? Sadness is in the walls; trauma flows as a tub left running, and pain circulates like the blades on a fan. The walls have collected the secrets. Walls there watching, listening, and they have a story to tell. -LaToya Nicole, Alone in the Dark   Do the walls of your childhood home have a story to tell? Would they share things you dare not say because what happened in that house stays in that house? Yes, I’m sure you have heard that phrase. A statement like that is one of many that has embedded into the walls of your mind. It has taken root, making it hard for you to break free. You have prayed for 40 days and 40 nights, but the sting won't ease. I bet those walls know what happened. They know what you are holding on to; they could articulate it better than you.   Have you ever considered the burdens the walls bear holding all of those secrets? I can’t imagine the joy they finally get to share because someone spoke up and got away. They rejoice and mark yo

  “ Around the same time every year, I would sink into the worse state of sadness; every year, it was worse. I recall doing my cousin's hair at my apartment when I said those words, “I think I am depressed.” I had not acknowledged that to anyone before that conversation. There was some relief in saying it aloud; however, recognizing it did nothing to spark the need to seek help. ” -LaToya Nicole     In my new book, Alone In the Dark, I spoke about how the state of mind I lived in went undetected for years. I was not familiar with depression to the extent I am now, nor were those around me. I was a sad little girl. The way I felt most of the time, I thought that is how people identify. Imagine how overwhelming, saddened a person is after losing a loved one; that is where I lived. I left the house from time to time, but that is where I woke up and slept. I had grown physically, but emotionally, I remained on 978, Wondering Why I Was Born Avenue.   The laughs, hanging out with friends

I watched an interview on A&E with a woman who shared her story about being raped and impregnated at age ten. She was nine when he started and had no understanding of what was happening. She told her mother, but her mom told her it did not occur, then later blamed her when she realized it was happening. Her mother told her she was fast. Yes, a nine-year-old being "rapid, quick, or abstaining from food" gave an over 30-year-old man the okay to undress and penetrate her. If I lost you, I included the etymology of the word, fast, and nowhere did I find that it meant as implied. Where did this foolishness originate? I am willing to bet it's right off a plantation, and we continue to abuse and indoctrinate our children with the same ignorance intended to keep us ignorant. Why is that always the go-to when sick people hurt children? That's not it; she was forced to marry the rapist by age eleven. Her parents held the perpetrator to such a high standard because he held a

  Like me, you have had to figure out a lot alone. I can not say when this started, but I have held my feelings in my hands for most of my life as if I were holding a baby, trying to figure out if I feed or change them. It has been nothing I wanted to do, but I had no choice. The way I felt about things did not matter. Having my feelings dismissed when I was feeling down was suffocating. Sadly, I normalized it and accepted it in relationships. It was a cycle that was hard to break. It did not help that I lost my voice, so I sank into a shell even when I wanted to respond or question things. My emotional state was all out of sorts. I gave up repeatedly because of the clutter that I did not know was clutter until much later. The sting of the disappointment faded. I assumed I was okay. I went on with life, did not talk about it anymore, and that was that. Journaling has been my thing since I was a girl, so I released some of how I felt, but not enough to keep it from erecting and sending

  Are you happy? No, not pleased because you have objects. I mean, are you fired up about your way of life? If the material things were not there, would it trouble you?   So what work do you do for a living? Are you delighted about that? Does it contribute to your complete satisfaction to go about your day knowing you have that career to look forward to? Is that your heart's desire, or are you carrying out what the family expects you to?   Did nursing school intrigue you because of the money, or some guy said he loved women in uniform? Maybe your family convinced you to take that route because you have nurses in the family, making that a suitable career. Is that what YOU want to do?   Are your siblings performing well, and do your parents think you should have a career like theirs? You may do piercings and love it, but Tiffany is a lawyer, and Jacob is a banker, and those careers look better on the family resume than what you are doing.   Were you mapping out a plan to start a bus

  Excuse me, where do I find the healer? I am overwhelmed with sadness; I cannot think straight, and my stomach is in knots have no idea what to do with my life. One moment I feel like I am getting a grip on life; the other, I want nothing to do with it. Where is the healer? What direction do I go in to reach where I will find my healer? Please help me! I do not know how much more of this I can take.   No one could help me; they just stood there pointing. When I turned around to see the direction everyone suggested, there was no one there.   I went on with my head down, hoping to find someone else I could ask for directions. As I traveled, I prayed to God; please help me. Please help me to find my way. I am suffering; this is all too much to bear. I want to die. My soul is not at rest. I am fighting an internal war, and the wounds are crippling me. How much further can I go before it is over?   Then I saw signs of life. Maybe they can help me. As I approached them, they stood to greet