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My Breaking Point

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I had to take a break.

I watched as our Black men and boys as well as our Black women and girls rights were being systematically erased and/or that their lives were being snuffed out altogether. The latest being what the hell happened to Sandra Bland?

SandraBlandMs. Bland a Black female from Illinois was pulled over for a ”routine” traffic violation in Waller County, Texas. She was arrested for assault on a public official on a Friday only to be found dead in her cell the following Monday.

The accumulation of stories from Bill Cosby and the defense of rape culture to Rachel Dolezal assuming a Black identity to the horrendous murders of nine people in Charleston, SC by a racist, gun toting, Confederate flag waving demon in their place of worship got to me.

News outlets and social media took a toll. The bile rose in my throat as I lost count of the Black lives that have been so senselessly scrubbed from existence because of the melanin in their skin.

The anger became unbearable as I watched a McKinney, Texas police officer put both his knees in the back of a 14 year old girl clad in nothing but a bikini after slinging her to the ground.

My soul ached at the loss of those nine souls at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church.

I struggled to pick up a pencil and write often going home from my day job and just climbing in the bed, realizing that the abyss was growing steadily and I wasn’t taking care of myself. The anger, hurt and the need to hide or escape overcame me.

WorthyLIFEI stopped posting on FB and IG the hastags #BlackLivesMatter and #insertlatestvictimofhatecrimehere because truthfully, I was done. Folk seem to want to appropriate this culture but not the hardships that come with it because we live in a system that wasn’t designed for us.

I was tired of rallying, tired of screaming about all the racism, balking at those defending rape culture and the homophobic vitriol that has become common place.

Folk were going to have their opinion and quite frankly shelter their ideals of hate no matter what I said. So the taking down of the Confederate flag, even though it made sense, still doesn’t erase the hate in folk who claim said flag is about heritage and not hate (i.e. racism/slavery). The Supreme Court ruling in favor of marriage equality still doesn’t erase the fact that people will use hate instead of love even though their Jesus calls for them to do just that.

I saw articles that issued the charge to take care of yourself because quite frankly ingesting this kind of trauma can take a toll on anyone mentally, emotionally and spiritually. I realize that along with all the other stuff going on in my life I was slipping a little bit. Figuring out how to take care of myself in the aforementioned ways presented itself…again; so on days I just couldn’t bring myself to write, I didn’t. On days I don’t want to have a full on conversation about the latest political halfwit spouting scriptures about what the bible says about marriage, I don’t. I don’t beat myself up when I need to get off a Facebook status that is raising my blood pressure without commenting. And on the days when I want to educate someone on the “real” reason the Civil War was fought, I don’t because everyone won’t get it.

Instead I go sit down somewhere to meditate or pray.  Try to raise my vibrations and find my happy place.

I am learning to pick my battles with myself and with others. I can’t fight them all.  I won’t quit speaking out, but I will just choose when I can and am able to speak out and fight.

 

 

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