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, and clubbing provided a temporary fix, but I had to return home. Imagine your mental state is a home (because we live there where we choose not to heal). Wouldn’t the first thing most do when the house is dirty is clean it? Of course, it is! Think about the state of your physical residence when you are feeling down; that is how it looks internally. Who wants to sit in that filth all day? Can you imagine the stitch? MY LIVING ENVIRONMENT NEARLY KILLED ME because I did not know what to clean or what products to use. The conditions were not safe for anyone. Although I hated being there, I made no change for decades to change the circumstances I controlled. 


In my thirties, I acted on the instructions. At over thirty, I became an adult. The tears I cried became the mop water to clean and do the inner work. It was time to clean in a way I had never had before. My counselor and coach got their hands dirty and helped me clean my house. Little LaToya, ready to break free from under years of chaos, gave me the strength I needed. She had lost all hope for some time. She felt like nothing would silence the house walls that constantly screamed how pathetic she was. But a new day came, a fresh morning, accompanied by new mercies.


 I did not know how to clean my house for a lengthy time. I walked around in a deplorable state, inviting others to my mess and birthing a child. My unborn tasted everything that went on inside of my residence. It intensified once she was born, because she has witnessed experiences accompanying what she sampled. Desperately, I tried to keep her from the dirt, but she got to it, anyway.


Man, it seemed like forever before I could see my flooring. There was an excessive amount of clutter covering everything. There is still so much to do, but I can see the sunshine through a window now. I am constantly cleaning with the tools provided and maintaining areas that are already clear. An unwillingness to do the work is a reason we stay stuck. Who’s ready to clean up all that debris?


While decluttering, I wrestled with some things, so I get it. I understand wanting to hold on with a tight grip, but it helps nothing. When something should have been in the trash pile, I kept moving it to the keep area. Many times, I broke down and cried for the rest of the day. After I awoke on a soaked pillow, I got back to work. I had to call in reinforcements to guide me when it got hard. Having a coach is essential. They help guide you when you want to leave everything dirty. Everything in those boxes I needed to get rid of. My coach helped me unpack it and walk it to the trash bin. Doing certain things myself strengthened me more than I realized. I submitted to being rescued and brought to safety, which taught me how to save myself.


Thanks for reading; if this blog helped you consider purchasing a copy of my new book, Alone In theDark, where I take you on a more in-depth journey through and out of Depression Lane.

Let’s stay connected; visit my website at www.latoyanicoleinc.com to sign up for weekly updates. 


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