so the seventeenth

day 17: when was the last time you indulged yourself and how?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

     Honestly... I am the queen of Treat Yoself and it truly is a problem. I'm going to keep it light and easy: I bought GoodFellas and Horrible Bosses on Vudu last night. I'm working on building up my digital movie collection and those two have been on my mind lately. 

     I don't know if this counts, but I told my mans in Walmeezy today that I wanted to get a hair wand in passing and he told me to put it in the cart so that was a good time.

“The best things in life are free. 

The second best things are very, very expensive.” 

― Coco Chanel

see the sixteenth

day 16: what is the most loving thing you've ever done for yourself?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

     When I first moved to Texas three years ago, I started going to Alcoholics Anonymous to get out of the house. I mean, I thought I was an addict but wasn't entirely sure. My aunt encouraged me to go. "If nothing else, it's free entertainment," she'd say. I looked up a schedule online and landed on this gnarly halfway house. I only attended a few times before I found two other meetings I felt more comfortable at. I browsed a pamphlet called Is A.A. for You? Twelve Questions Only You Can Answer, shocked at how many I identified with.

1. Have you ever decided to stop drinking for a week or so, but only lasted for a couple of days? 

yes [x]     no [  ]

2. Do you wish people would mind their own business about your drinking — stop telling you what to do?

yes [x]     no [  ]

3. Have you ever switched from one kind of drink to another in the hope that this would keep you from getting drunk?

yes [  ]     no [x]

4. Have you had to have a drink upon awakening during the past year? Do you need a drink to get started, or to stop shaking?

yes [  ]     no [x]

5. Do you envy people who can drink without getting into trouble?

yes [x]     no [  ]

6. Have you had problems connected with drinking during the past year?

yes [x]     no [  ]

7. Has your drinking caused trouble at home?

yes [x]     no [  ]

8. Do you ever try to get “extra” drinks at a party because you do not get enough?

yes [x]     no [  ]

9. Do you tell yourself you can stop drinking any time you want to, even though you keep getting drunk when you don’t mean to?

yes [x]     no [  ]

10. Have you missed days of work or school because of drinking?

yes [x]     no [  ]

11. Do you have “blackouts”?

yes [x]     no [  ]

12. Have you ever felt that your life would be better if you did not drink?

yes [x]     no [  ]

What’s your score? 

Did you answer “Yes” four or more times? If so, you are probably in trouble with alcohol.

I was like:

     

     I've met so many great people in the rooms. Veteran meth addicts/alcoholics in recovery that speak to my heart and verbalize feelings I thought were uniquely mine. Smiling at you at 9am on a Saturday, eager to fill your Styrofoam coffee cup to the brim. Being the most vulnerable— disclosing the shame they felt after waking up from a using dream, the sadness coursing through their body because it's their grandson's birthday (the one their daughter won't let them see for years now due to their drinking & drugging), the pain they feel after their parent dies without being able to see them get sober. Silence permeates the air but it's never tense or weird. Just a room full of drunks nodding, we get it♡.

     But there's such beauty too! The wisdom. The hope. The celebrating of days, months, and years being clean. Conquering demons once deemed insurmountable. The repaired relationships with kids, lovers, parents, and siblings. The hope. How smiles get brighter & brighter every time you see someone. The jobs, the promotions, the cars, the homes, and the respect regained. The hope.

     There are concepts within the steps and traditions that are truly profound because they work. The seventh tradition is "every A.A. group ought to be fully self-supporting, declining outside contributions.” Eighty-seven years going strong of electric bills, rent, Big Books, coffee filters, and sobriety chips all being funded by alcoholics themselves. One of my favorite traditions is 11: "Our public relations policy is based on attraction rather than promotion; we need always maintain personal anonymity at the level of press, radio, and films." My first sponsor encouraged me to live rigorously honest; I keep this at the back of my mind at all times. Someone mentioned One Percent Better: the method of doing something 1% every day eventually adding up to a major goal. Asking myself what's my part in this? has been a huge game changer as I used to think I was innocent in my actions (plot twist: I wasn't). My boyfriend is ten months sober off meth and alcohol (well... off everything but those are his DOCs) and what helps him most is the AA adage: take it one day at a time. Sometimes that's all you can do. No need to ruminate on the past and no one is a fortune teller so there's no point in trying to predict the future. Focus on the next 24 hours. Or hour. or minute, if you need to. 

     I've heard some hilarious stories in the rooms, too. Most alcoholics have a great sense of humor. They have to. Shit like:

• I'm not much, but I'm all I think about.
• The look you get when a rehab commercial comes on and everyone stares at you.
• I heard there's a pill that will cure addiction... I wonder what two of them will do.
• You can't smoke meth like a gentleman.

     AA has given me so much. I've felt genuine love within 5 minutes of meeting someone, had a place to go when I need to get out of my head for an hour, unpacked ugly thoughts in the safety of those four walls, and (hopefully) I've said something or merely showed up & impacted another life. I truly peeled back some layers of who I am and took a better look at what was going on. Outside of the club, I created a morning and night routine, got back into yoga, and developed goals. I learned the Serenity Prayer and other great tools to help me cope and live a less toxic life.

     I was able to be sober from November 2019 until around April 2020. It's the longest I'd been drug free in eleven years. (A drug is a mind-altering substance so obviously alcohol falls into that.) My drinking ebbs and flows, though I have cut back and am more aware of my behaviors now, plus the emotions I'm feeling when I choose to indulge. I think stepping foot in those rooms shifted something very critical in me. It has to be one of the most loving things I've ever done for myself. 

following the fifteenth

day 15: what are you afraid to ask for? what do you need to speak up about?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

     For the most part, I feel like I'm able to ask for things I need. Borrowing money. Questioning whether my friends have the space for me to vent. Encouraging my mom to take out the trash because I have the last six times. Inquiring whether I can attend Thursday's lab instead of Tuesday's because I'll be out of town (at a KoRn concert, I leave out). Sometimes these requests invoke anxiety yet I manage to follow through anyway. 

     What I've been increasingly hesitant about is the increasing severity of my mental health. Sometimes I get very debilitated, unmotivated, withered. Unfortunately most Americans aren't too educated, experienced, or empathetic when it comes to mental illness. They perceive a symptom as a negative attribute instead of a side effect of a brain malfunction. For example, a person with bipolar disorder who can't keep a job might be seen as lazy versus being weighed down by the world as a whole being in degradation for far too long, society stunted and insufferable as ever, the plutocracy America simmers in, all the injustice/inequality, and how Beyoncé got cheated on. I have a huge fear that the elusiveness of my impairment leads to it being disregarded and that I am not looked at with a holistic scope. I need to speak up about the signs, symptoms, therapeutic interventions, as well as the general empathy required when interacting with someone who has bipolar disorder. Because if it's stressful for you, imagine being forced to live it.

flew the fourteenth

day 14: what would your self be proud of you for today?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

     This couldn't have caught me on a worse day. However, this is called a self-care challenge and implies I should be gentle with myself. Meet me where I'm at. 

proud (adj)

1. feeling deep pleasure or satisfaction as a result of one's own achievements, qualities, or possessions or those of someone with whom one is closely associated.

    • (of an event, achievement, etc.) causing someone to feel proud.

2. having or showing a high or excessively high opinion of oneself or one's importance.

    • having or showing a consciousness of one's own dignity.

     In the last year or so I have refrained from complimenting anyone with "you're strong" because it doesn't sit right with me anymore. I don't think our capacity to endure pain is something that deserves accolades since more often than not, it's not our choice and it's not a choice. Not persevering is a luxury few can afford. Don't get me wrong— I can be despondent with the best of 'em. I get in my purse all misanthropic-like and don't want to continue living in this unfair, busted ass world. Inevitably, I prevail. I shed the anhedonia and re-emerge, ready to try this shits one more time...

     In this moment, I have three college anatomy & physiology assignments I need to finish, some medical terminology ones, a lab practical on muscles to study for, paperwork for medical appointments that need filled out, to send a convincing letter to a judge in order to pay two speeding tickets in installments, a list of therapists on the fridge that I was supposed to call to find out rates last week, a brother who just relapsed on meth after 9 months sober who won't stop peeking out the windows and going through my shit, a mom who's been enabling him for a decade + who forces me to be her emotional support daughter, a man who loves me even when I'm erratic & hurt him, and I started a new job today. 🤡

     A few years ago a therapist diagnosed me with adjustment disorder after our first meeting. When I got my session notes, I looked it up and found: "An adjustment disorder is an emotional or behavioral reaction to a stressful event or change in a person's life. The reaction is considered an unhealthy or excessive response to the event or change within three months of it happening." I wasn't and still am not keen on the verbiage "excessive response". Please, do tell me how I should cope when the bullshit is happening entirely way too consistently. I'd love nothing more than to see how someone else would mange my life experiencing the things I do; internally and externally.

     So if you held a gun to my head and said, "What are you proud of yourself for today?" between gritted teeth, I'd say my ability to persist, even though it's the absolute last thing I want to do most days. I wake up, look at the peeking sun and whisper, "Time to suck today's dick <3" and keep fuckin' trekkin'. One of my all-time favorite quotes is by Charlie Chaplin when my man said, "Nothing is permanent in this wicked world, not even our troubles.”

toward the thirteenth

day 13: take a selfie, just as you are. find one thing to love about it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I've always been obsessed with my mole.

It's too cute. 

^.^

total is twelve

day 12: what things make you feel happy to be alive?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

in no particular order

• my mom, Marcus, sometimes Joshua, sometimes Olivia, Cassius
• my best friends: Anthonyy, Brian, Emily, Kanisha, Kassandra, Keith, Kyli, Mallori, Maria, Roberta, Whitney
• my favorite cousins: Izabela, Jasmine, Nina, Shalynn
• my uncle/godfather/mentor Ricky 
• my babies: Falia, Gabriella, Grace, Ilyanna, Klarissa, Samuel, Sol
• Tyler the Creator, J Cole, Kendrick Lamar, Megan Thee Stallion, Cardi B, Dr. Dre, 2006 & older Eminem, Pink Floyd, Fleetwood Mac (mostly Stevie Nicks), Excision live
• my favorite movies
• Rodizio's
• the memory of rolling on molly w Keith and Emily in the rain at Red Rocks during Adventure Club
• the informative/artistic/hilarious/moving content I find on Instagram
• TED Talks
• the books that inspire & entertain me
• apple pie à la mode
• Halloween
• the iota of hope I have that the future could be better for me
• love
• warm, sunny days 
• dank memes
• Sailor Moon, One Punch Man, Mob Psycho 100, Afro Samurai
• Eeyore
• writing!!!!!
• Rihanna as a person, not a musician
• Beyoncé as an artist, not necessarily as a singer
• my favorite comedians: Dave Chappelle♡, Michael Che, Neal Brennan, Taylor Tomlinson, Jim Jefferies, Demetri Martin
• this random meal I made up at Red Lobster: a Maine lobster tail, Caesar salad, and baked potato
• amusement parks
• Barack Obama existing
• otters, skunks, sloths
• slick quotes
• movie theater popcorn
• oversized sweaters
• volleyball (sometimes)
• traveling in airplanes
• concerts

east of eleven

  day 11: how would you describe yourself, in a loving way, to a stranger?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

     "Who's Janessa?" the stranger said. "I've never heard of her."

     Whoa, really? I'm surprised. And that could go one of two ways... You could know the younger version. When she was young, wild, and free. Optimistic about life and the future. Down for fun anytime anywhere. If you needed someone to drive 30 miles with a pong table hanging out a back door of a 1999 Chevy Lumina, she's your gyal. If you, by chance, needed someone to reply strictly in song lyrics or movie quotes, hit her up. If you needed someone to roll over to a hatin' ass bitch's apartment and snatch her up, call Nessquik.

     I feel like she was very misunderstood, with that rough exterior and whatnot. And, shit, I wouldn't blame you. But if you took a second to actually listen, she'd go into detail about how Tech N9ne will only get his flowers once he's gone even though he has a consistently fire catalogue for three decades. She'd tell you her infinite theories about religion and what's plausible and what's just stupid. She'd recommend "The Perks of Being A Wallflower" by Stephen Chbosky (Future Nessers will encourage you to avoid the movie). So yeah, they'll say she's hard and too mouthy and her laugh is too loud, but those things transform into something more magical once you peel back the layers.

     Now, back to the future... Sometimes there's glimpses of Old Nessie, but it's rare. Time and trauma and tides have rearranged her ectoplasm, which isn't necessarily bad. She's more mellow, slightly more level-headed. Not so eager to get buck anymore but she's working on being a better cook, fine-tuning her misandry (lol jk it's not real), and still definitely talks in movie quotes more than ever. Humor, intellect, compassion, and playlists on point. Her heart is gigantic and she only wants everyone to live authentically & safely. Okay, and to also go back to Six Flags Over Texas.

to the tenth

 day 10: how can you set better boundaries in your life?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

     If you ask my dad if he's an alcoholic, he'll give an unequivocal no before you can even finish the question. I only drink on the weekends, he'll assure you. And I don't even do that anymore. One perspective surrounding alcoholism I learned in A.A. is it doesn't always depend on the frequency of the drinking as much as how you behave once that poison hits your bloodstream. He used to stumble home around 2am, wake me and my brothers up, and fuck with us. That or provoke a fight with whatever girlfriend he had at the time. It really depended on the night. Sometimes he'd wrestle my brothers, which was funny when they were in elementary school. It stopped being so silly once they were in middle school and older. 

     In the same token, he used to do this thing where he'd ask us for a kiss. And it's hard and maybe even psychotic to try to defend this but I feel like there truly is something that needs to be discussed. Is this action weird as shit? Yeah. Definitely. Still, my dad isn't some gross pedophile of sorts. He merely suffers from narcissistic personality disorder and enjoys exerting power. If anything, that's what makes him a sick fuck.

     So my dad used to get wasted and force his kids to kiss him. When we refused, he'd pin us down by the wrists and boom, "Give your dada a kiss!" And like I said, it was funny when I was 5. But he did to me when I was 16 and also in front of two of my best guy friends when I stopped by his trailer to grab something. That shit was fucking humiliating. 

     I'd like to pose this question: how can you set better boundaries in your life when you were taught at a very young age that your reluctance to participate in situations is considered insignificant by one of two people who were put on the planet to protect you? I've always been loud. Outspoken. Crass. These traits do not equate emotional intelligence nor steadfastness. If anything, they aid in the façade that I have control of my life, the conversation, of myself. I could make noise but I didn't have a voice.

     I'm 28 now, somewhat distant from the angsty teenager I once was; in some regards, I'm still the same. I truly do feel like I have agency over my life at this juncture. Everyday I attempt to strengthen my resolve and demand the respect I deserve. I can vocalize when someone offends me, communicate to my lovers what I will and won't tolerate, and defend my beliefs when someone challenges them. In the second half of this year, I have been working on not offering unsolicited advice, over-extending myself and resources, nor answering any calls or texts if I don't have the mental stamina for it. I could be better at saying no. I get bogged down with babysitting kids, cooking meals, and accompanying my family on errands all while I have assignments due, laundry to be folded, and just general alone time to recharge. I get so wrapped up in my commitment to being loyal or reliable that I tend to abandon myself. Who can I possibly rely on in this world if not meself?

near the ninth

day 9: what's something in your life that you need to get rid of?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

     I have an older sister who is obnoxiously opinionated. (Can you imagine me feeling this way? The audacity.) We don't always see eye to eye, but occasionally she hits the nail on the head when revealing her thoughts on how I'm managing my life. There have been a few people in my circle who she loathes— thinks they take advantage of my giving nature, make me miserable, and labels them toxic. I've aggressively refuted her observations but once I sat with it and considered her reasons, I agreed. This has been going on for years now. 

     There was a guy I'd been friends with since I was 15 who I had a strained relationship with. It was strictly platonic, but it was intense and we are both bruised souls so we latched on to one another trying to keep ourselves afloat. Unfortunately, what finally nudged me to let him go was when we took acid with a close friend of mine and he almost killed us. That was a very extreme and apparent situation. What's more insidious is when people smile in your face or verbally gush over how great you are but then don't gift you anything on your birthday or offer much intellectual conversation; just catch you up on the negativity in their life and the town gossip. There's no reciprocation or alignment in effort, life trajectory, or passions.

    What I need to get rid of in regards to improving my self-care is vacuous relationships. Ones that only take & take & take and don't contribute to my level-up journey. I can think of four people who epitomize my ideal standard for a friend, and if peeps don't match their energy, then I swear I don't want it.

even the eighth

day 8: where in your life do you need to slow down & take your time?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

     I've always been a hasty person. Anyone that knows me is constantly referencing my impatience, and I want to deny it. But catch me walking into Walmart behind an 80-year-old on an unsuspecting Tuesday and you'll observe a moment where I snap, sidestep, and scurry on by. I've got places to be. I'm a notorious speeder; my mom's always like, "Mario, slow down." Well... I've got places to be. 

     Not so much now, but K-12 I was obnoxious with trying to be the first one to finish tests. And my teachers begged me to slow down; that I'm very smart but I skip over important information because I'm going too fast. I ignored them.

     When I first started partying at 14 years old, I mostly drank alcohol. Within a couple years, I cared more about marijuana and being stoned. After another year or so, I did cocaine for the first time and loved it. At age 21, I did lysergic acid diethylamide for the first time (LSD really changed my perspective on a lot of things). I tried dimethyltryptamine for the first time two years later, which... DMT is by far my favorite drug. So as you can see, that timeline escalated quite quickly.

     When I was 23, I started seeing a guy I'd distantly known for three years or so. We were talking in December, in a relationship by March, and living together by June. We broke up by July. So yeah... that one-year lease was the biggest awakening of our lives. [He and I are great friends now but, oh fuck, that was a tumultuous era.] I don't even know that I've learned too much, because I've been dating my current boyfriend for 6 months and I've said: "...we could have child together." Brings this to mind:

     I also get in modes where I scroll through TikTok for two or more hours filling my mind with history lessons, comedic bits, and inspirational TED Talks. I can do the same thing with Instagram, fixating on celebrity make-up, obscure art, and social justice posts. I watch movies back-to-back and constantly have my Spotify playlists playing as the soundtrack to my life. Just recently my mom shut off the tv and I asked her why, to which she said, "Why can't we have some quiet?”

     "Because a thought or emotion might arise and then I'll have to deal with it," I joked, though I wasn't. I can keep my surroundings going 80 miles an hour so I keep discomfort at bay but we all know that's not sustainable. I need to slow down and take my time in so many aspects of my life. The whole thing should really be put on a leash so I can only go the length the cosmic rope allows. I'll say this is most applicable with my attention: it would be beneficial if I concentrated on being present and kept my instant gratification monster a football field away.

so the seventh

day 7: name a thing you love about your body and personality

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

     My initial response to naming one thing I love about my body is to outsource the answer. Should I text my boyfriend, friends, and countrymen to poll their perspective of me? Tell me you don't trust yourself without telling me you don't trust yourself. My mans would say something perverted like my ass, which would never be my first choice. 

     My go-to is my eyes. There are so many magical ways to describe blue/green/hazel eyes but I'm still searching for the words for brown. When Tyler the Creator sang, "It's them rose-tinted cheeks, yeah, it's them dirt-colored eyes," I was like: okay, now we're getting somewhere! There's that joke about having brown eyes due to being full of shit, which is stupid. Besides being compared to chocolate (so two thousand & late), they're reminiscent of mud, tree bark, coffee, caramel... either food or earth related.

     When I was a sophomore in high school, I was a part of this Little Buddy program where I'd hang out with a second grader from time to time and get her little gifts. She made me a drawing I've kept all these years that really means a lot to me.

     My eyes are so dark they reflect the light, illuminating like the flash of a camera. I felt so seen when my girl gave me this art piece. I find them warm & hypnotic & alluring. They say the eyes are among the first things you notice about someone upon meeting. Mine would say I have a hundred stories and a thousand secrets behind them.

     To accompany these deep-honey orbs (still food), I'd say I love my sense of humor or intellect. I remember in elementary school I was obsessed with reading biographies. I'm talkin' sitting on the library floor in third grade just gettin' down on Harriet Tubman unprovoked. Frederick Douglass. Sojourner Truth. George Washington Carver. Booker T Washington. My mom and grandma enjoyed reading and they cultivated an environment that made it very apparent how important education is. My angel James Baldwin said, “Children have never been very good at listening to their elders, but they have never failed to imitate them.”

     Similarly, my mom and her siblings have always been goofy. They didn't mind sarcasm or jokes being told or playing pranks. There was a lot of chaos in my life growing up, but my maternal family still found ways to laugh and exercise their wit. This has been an integral part of who I am and what I'm about. By the time I got to middle school, I fell in love with stand-up comedy. Dane Cook was the first comedian who captured my heart. My best friends and I would listen to bits by '07 Kevin Hart, Demetri Martin, Amy Schumer, and Nick Swardson on our bus rides to junior high volleyball games. My senior year of high school is when what we know as memes became really popular. Combining my technological savviness with my humor, I became fucking unstoppable. Lexa, play "Gift & A Curse" by Megan Thee Stallion.

since the sixth

day 6: what do you need to forgive yourself for?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

     When I slip into a depressive episode, I reflect on my 28 years with complete disgust and remorse and shame. Walking off the volleyball court in the middle of a homecoming game when I was a junior in high school. Meeting up with a 22-year-old man I met on Facebook when I was 16 and having sex with him even though I wasn't entirely comfortable with doing so. Shirking research papers in high school so I could argue over petty shit with girls on MySpace. Prioritizing drinking and drugging above pretty much everything in my life for ten years. All these and more run through my mind like an endless movie reel and I feel so debilitated.

     Sometimes my mom catches the brunt of my ruminations. As our sole caretaker in the trailer, she gave us wayyy too much freedom. Trusted us too much. Or even on rare nights she told me I couldn't do something, I'd wait until she fell asleep and sneak out in her car. I was 15. One time I was pulled over 28 miles south of town, on my way back from visiting friends at 11pm. (For the record, I had a tail light out.) My mom didn't yell, punish, berate, or even address the situation. She brought my brother to drive the car home and I rode with her, the hum of the radio being the only audible noise.

     During moments of clarity I give myself permission to laugh at the outrageous shit I've done. I can admit a certain appreciation for the lessons, experiences, and relationships that bloomed from my tomfoolery. I need to forgive myself for being a wounded, misguided, erratic American youth. The day I give myself the same grace I give my loved ones will be joyous, indeed. One of my favorite quotes recently is by humanistic psychologist Carl Rogers:

“I realize that if I were stable and steady and static, I would be living death. 

So I accept confusion and uncertainty and fear and emotional highs and lows 

because they are the price I willingly pay for a flowing, perplexing, exciting life.”