The other day I was reminded of the reason I started to blog in the first place. God/Universe speaks to me through my writing. I was reminded of that through anger. I’ve always thought of anger as being my enemy growing up, because any sign of it would automatically put me inside of a box. That box was the “Crazy Box.” I was placed in anger management all through high school, and I couldn’t attend any extra curricular activities if I didn’t make anger management a part of my routine. I didn’t think there was anything “wrong” with me until they started labeling me. My mom put me in therapy to deal with the emotions that seemed unbearable for me to handle on my own. Looking back now; I actually feel sorry for that little girl. I was told that anger is WRONG, which lead me to believe that my pain isn’t Valid. I believed that any emotion outside of being happy is a sign of a deficit. If I showed signs of being sad, I was automatically suffering from depression. When I was angry, I was crazy; and when I bored, I had Attention deficit disorder. These are serious labels that I’ve been labeled my entire life. What happens when you tell a kid something over and over? They start to believe it, and act accordingly.

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I thought I was no good growing up, and it followed me into adulthood. I believed I was incapable of making the right decisions, and I convinced myself that I would never be able to succeed in life. But one day, one dark and gloomy day I received a message from the universe. The message was subtle, yet clear. I was never a mistake; there was never anything wrong with me. My enhanced emotions were a gift from the universe to express through writing. Anger is not a flaw; it’s an emotion that should be expressed just like every other emotion. They tell us that if you’re anything but happy, something is wrong with you. We weren’t created with just one emotion; we were created with many emotions, all of which are a valid, acceptable part of being a human being. We’re so much easier to tame when we fall into line. They do a good job at convincing us that not conforming to social norms makes us inadequate. They need us to walk the straight path that they’ve designed for us, in order to maintain control over society. When we don’t conform, they punish us until we get back into line. I needed to reach out because I want to send a message to anyone who has allowed someone’s opinion of them to become their reality. You aren’t what they say you are. When you start to believe what they say, you will slowly start to lose yourself. We enter into this world NAKED AND FILLED WITH EMOTIONS. Your feelings are valid, and it’s also your gift. Use them. Don’t suppress them, but also don’t submit to them. USE THEM TO YOUR ADVANTAGE. It’s your gift from the universe for a reason.  I can’t tell you HOW to use them, but I can tell you that they exist for a reason. I like to believe that my heightened emotions allow me to fill a blank page with passion; which in return will fill many hearts with hope, relief, and love. Again, the message was subtle, yet clear. You were never a mistake; you’re gifted.


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Here I am ya’ll; Flawed as fuck. The month of May was supposed to be an extension of an internal contract I made with myself called “Clarity cleanse.” Welp, I fucked that up. Basically I’ve created a process for when I’m having brain fog, depression, intense mood swings etc. The process includes getting rid of all external factors that may contribute to these feelings; such as alcohol, drugs, high sugar foods, toxic people etc. I guess after having such of a successful month in April; I thought I could cheat a little bit, and it wouldn’t hurt me. Well, we all know that’s not exactly how life works. Besides, who else would I be cheating other than myself? Sometimes we forget that our healing process, and the promises we make to ourselves is the most important plan to stick with. We tend to keep our promises to other people, before we keep our own promise to ourselves. I let myself down, and its not the first time I’ve done that. When will I learn that I’m important too? We’re so focused on how other people treat us, but we’re never paying attention to how we treat ourselves. It’s truly the little things that matter; like skipping brushing your teeth at night because your partner isn’t in town, and you don’t have to worry about going to bed with fresh breath. As if you have the power to put the process of tooth decay into deferment until further notice, all because you weren’t worthy enough to spend the extra time and energy it takes to get up and brush your teeth. After all, that is why we brush our teeth twice a day, right? Okay, I agree; that was a shitty example,but we’ve all done it at least once before. Think about how many other little things we skip doing for ourselves when no one is watching. The point is simple; I don’t invest in myself as much as I would do for another person. We put that extra “Umph” into satisfying another person; but when it comes to our own satisfaction, if there’s a corner to cut, we’re cutting it for sure! I’m guilty of undermining my own abilities, but praising someone else’s efforts, as if mine isn’t good enough.

So here I am ya’ll, flawed as fuck! My brain is in shambles, and I’m literally back at square one. Apparently, I wasn’t a good enough reason for me to continue pushing toward my goal. You may think I’m being too tough on myself, but that’s just it; we’re not tough ENOUGH on ourselves. I don’t have people lined up to catch me when I fall, or nurture me when I’m feeling broken. So I have to learn how to be my own guidance. Being my own guidance means wearing multiple hats. I have to be my own personal trainer to maintain the physique I desire; and my own nutritionist to stay healthy. I also have to be a therapist, a lover, a best friend, and a teacher to myself. There’s no map to being successful in life. What we have in this life is WHO WE ARE. We are the promises we keep to ourselves. We are the products of our own investment. No one else is to blame. I made a commitment to tell my story; but once that story is out there, it’s no longer “my story.” So I’m telling you that I let myself down, and I continue to let myself down each time I don’t invest in myself. But now that it’s out there; it’s no longer my story. The great thing about stories is you can always start a new chapter, or even create a series. I’m here to tell you that it is POSSIBLE to REWRITE your PAST. A good story puts you in the perspective of what the author wants you to see and feel. Rewriting your story just means you have to change the way you tell your story. See, I started off being a victim of my circumstances. I told the story of a victim, which in return led me to live a life of a victim for a very long time. Nothing was done “for me” but everything was done “to me.” Each time I pick up a Pen, I have the opportunity to change my story. People often ask me when am I going to write a sequel to “Effie, Effie and ELLiE,” but the truth is, I’m not the same person who wrote that piece. Once I put it out there; it’s no longer my story. That was me as a victim; this is me as a warrior. I am in rewriting my story by changing my perception. All of the years I’ve spent fighting was only molding me into the person I am today. For all of the times I thought I was being targeted; life was actually just handing me gifts. Drake said “I told my story, and made [his]story (history).” The every day struggles I continue to face is just life giving me the opportunity to rewrite my story, so that I can pave the way for another person rewrite theirs. Of course, the only way this is possible is if I continue to make myself A GOOD ENOUGH REASON to put the time and energy that’s needed to achieve my goals. See how that goes in a full circle? We can only help another person if we help ourselves first. If you’re anything like me, and you STRUGGLE with investing time and energy into yourself. If you have a hard time keeping promises, and being just as good to yourself, as you are to another person. If you are flawed as fuck, and you just need the opportunity to rewrite your story once again. If you’re back at square one because you didn’t keep your promise to yourself; here’s my advice to you: You can choose to be a victim for the remainder of your life, or you can choose to be a warrior. You can continue to tell the same story, or you can rewrite your history. So once again, here I am; back to rewrite my story, yet again.

Love, ELLiE


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It all started in high school  with a  burning question that I had no idea would haunt me for the years to come. That question is “What’s your passion?” My teacher at the time, Mr. Carmicheal proceeded to circle the classroom, and made everyone announce their future aspirations. I sat and watched my entire classmates stand up proudly during their turn and announce “I’m going to be a lawyer” said one kid. There were a bunch of veterinarians, doctors, firemen, nurses, and financial advisers who stood up proudly that day. I wracked my brain trying to figure out exactly what IS my passion, and how come I still wasn’t sure of what I wanted to do. Finally it was my turn, and I thought the best thing I could do in that moment was lie. I stood up and stated “I want to be a nurse, because I’ve always enjoyed helping people.” That was the moment that whatever small amount of my true self was left from this brainwashing society, has evaporated into a cloud of doubts, beliefs, and false standards. From that day forward I started to hold myself to society’s standards instead of my own. Before that moment I was like a free bird. I laughed until my stomach hurts, and loved myself unconditionally. Until that specific day I was free of worries, and I was truly my true self. After that day I felt lost, and inadequate. I was no longer that free bird; instead I was a caged bird. I was now a prisoner of society standards; and even worst, a prisoner of my own mind. I convinced myself that I wasn’t enough; therefore I began looking in other directions towards the people who I thought were more like me.

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Looking back now I realized that I gave up on myself after that day. I went home that night, and cried to my mother asking her what’s wrong with me? How come I didn’t know what I wanted to do? In attempt to comfort me, my mother said something that I’ve held onto for years; she said “Don’t worry, you’re still young. You’ll find your passion soon.” Of course those words somewhat comforted me for the time being, but its once again left me searching and waiting for years to come for something that I would never find. School felt meaningless to me after that day. I started to question God, because I felt he left me passionless and I had no purpose here on earth. I went to college switching majors like I would switch my panties. Each time I went to see an advisor, it ignited that burning flame of shame and hopelessness inside of me; they all asked the same exact question, “What are you passionate about?” Each time I wanted to scream out loud I DON’T KNOW! STOP ASKING ME! DON’T YOU GUYS HAVE A CLASS FOR WANDERERS OR SOMETHING?!

Overtime I watched my friends, and family walk a straight path towards success. They knew exactly what they wanted, and they stuck to the plan. Then there’s me who bounced around to every single profession attainable. I’d always get the initial rush at the beginning of anything new and exciting; but once it becomes repetitive, I experience boredom and have the urge to break free. Actually, I get REALLY depressed when this happens, because I’ve always wanted to walk a straight path along with everyone else. After YEARS of searching I’ve finally come to the conclusion that maybe I’m not supposed to fit in. Maybe God has structured me with creativity and versatility purposefully, so that I can be one of the free souls who spread their knowledge and love all around. Maybe focusing on one goal is not my purpose, which is why I’ve been so uncomfortable for all of these years. Maybe I have so much to offer to the world that God couldn’t allow me to be comfortable with just doing ONE of those things. Maybe I’m meant to bounce around, and be the free bird I’ve always been to enhance the world around me. When I roam freely I’m able to spread bits and pieces of myself to those who need it the most. I’ve been blessed with THE GIFT OF FREEDOM.

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All of this time I assumed I’m suppose to be narrowed down to one passion, but that’s just not how my world works. There’s no specific box that us humans should be in, which is what society has taught us. I’m never content with doing what I’m supposed to do, but I’ve always been happy with doing what I desire to do. There’s nothing wrong with not having a passion. Life can be your passion; Life IS my passion, and I plan on being a career butterfly. If I can go back to that day in high school knowing what I know now, I would stand up and say proudly “I WANT TO BE CAREER BUTTERFLY, SO I CAN SPREAD MY TALENTS ACROSS THE WORLD.”  I have too much to offer to just be narrowed down to one goal. My passion is a lot broader than most; but I’m convinced that I’ve found my purpose finally after years of searching. My purpose is to give to others the gift of sight; as a wanderer I’m able to see things from different perspectives. I’m an Unrooted evolutionary tree in life who brings the true essence of creativity, love, and wisdom to those around me.

In conclusion, if you’re reading this and you’re like me; don’t let the word passion control your life. Be free. Be exactly what you’re created to be, because the universe makes no mistakes.

Love, ELLiE


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Lately I’ve been feeling stagnant, so I’ve decided to go back to the beginning where I felt the most growth. I’ve never stopped working on myself, but I will say that I’ve gotten comfortable with being content. Going back to my foundation basically starts by detoxing my mind, body, and soul. I cut out coffee, alcohol, processed sugar, drugs(mary jane), and any other addictive habits or substance I relied on to alter, or even just enhance my perception of reality. This detox also included toxic relationships, and whatever else isn’t contributing to my growth. The next step after making the conscious effort to cut out external toxic factors is to retrain my brain.  The best way I know how to do this is by listening to inspirational podcast as my daily morning routine. Finally and most importantly, I WRITE. I write in silence sitting in my own thoughts. When all else fails on this road of life, this is my charging station; but it’s not as easy as it sounds. The moment I decided to strip away the crutches I used to carry some of the weight I was carrying through life, is the moment I crashed. Something as simple as not having my morning coffee nearly crippled me. Not having a drink of alcohol while socializing bored me, and I couldn’t even rely on food to fill that void. You notice a lot when you’re stripped of everything. I noticed that food and sugar was also my drug. I got really depressed and I couldn’t indulge myself in all of the foods I love to eat to ease some of the stress. It dawned on me that junk foods stimulate the reward system in the brain in the same way as any abusive drug. I hit ROCK BOTTOM.  I’ve always been super in tuned with myself and a overall conscious being, so making even the slightest changes in my life causes me to be extremely sensitive to these changes leaving me vulnerable. I had no idea I was using external sources to cope with my reality until I eliminated them. I thought by not over indulging myself in a particular substance or habit would prevent me from losing control, but this is not the case. Even if you’re a social drinker, you’re still a drinker. If you’re a social smoker, you’re still a smoker. I used the excuse of “only drinking while I’m hanging out, or when it’s the weekend,” but think about how often that can be. Monday through Thursday I wouldn’t drink, but I was still active in other habits like coffee, smoking, and eating a lot of sugary foods. All I did was switch from one bad habit to another and I found validity in doing so. The worst part of it all is I wasn’t even aware of it, until I decided to go back to my foundation. After three excruciating, hungry, angry weeks; I’m finally starting to feel the benefits of it. I think craving something and NOT getting it is one of the worst feelings any addict can experience. I’m finally at the point where mostly all my cravings have diminished, and my head is a lot clearer.


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I’ve never gotten over certain traumas, and it’s affecting my life in the worst way. I don’t think I’ve ever recognized what I’ve been through as being traumatic, until I recently started showing signs of PTSD. My body has an automatic defense mechanism of going numb when it senses any signs of danger. For this reason, when I do experience something really traumatic, it’s almost like I’m not really there. Physically I’m present but mentally and emotionally I’m hovering over my body witnessing the most brutal attack. So it makes sense that I’ve never connected those situations to being traumatic; it never really felt like I was THERE, even though I was the one being assaulted. For the first time in a very long time, I sat with myself with nothing holding my hand. Nothing was keeping me from falling flat on my face suffocating in despair; and there I was drowning in years of pain that I’ve kept buried inside of me. OUCH… THAT SHIT HURT! I actually allowed ME to feel bad for ME. I never allowed myself to hurt, because I thought “shit happens; move on,” and that’s what I did. Well at least I thought that’s what I was doing. The act of “moving on” requires a certain level of acceptance, and embracing your emotions BEFORE you let them go. See, I skipped that part. I went through the traumas, dusted my shoulders off the very next day, and “moved on” to tomorrow while suppressing yesterday. I didn’t actually “move on,” instead I left my soul back in yesterday, and just took my body with me. I was a walking shell going through the motions without feeling anything. Knowing what I know now has me thinking “Damn, how could I have abandoned myself? Why did it take me this long to realize that I deserve to be loved?” I’ve abandoned myself for years. I didn’t love myself, because if I did I would’ve paid more attention to ME. How could I seek attention without first giving it to myself? I’ve neglected the hurt in me for so long that I turned into a zombie. I wasn’t living my life at all. I was living a life of who I thought I’m supposed to be. I thought I was being tough and resilient; but real resilience comes from facing your own truths. Being truthful to your self is the hardest thing to do, especially when the truth hurts. I learned about what triggers me, and why; most importantly I’m learning how to love me first. Did you hear that? I LOVE THE FUCK OUT OF ME! And you know what else? I’m finally free. Free from the prison of my own mind. Free of fault, and the feelings of inadequacy.  Breaking down didn’t break me down; it freed me. I needed my heart to break, and tears to fall.  I needed to feel my body go limp as I dropped to my knees. If I didn’t take away all those factors out of my life, I would’ve never been able to meet myself again. I exposed myself to get to know myself. I stripped myself naked, and walked into the dark; only to find out that within the darkness was always the light.


Initially, this journey was only supposed to be for one month. The fact that I’ve just had another breakthrough 1 week prior to finishing on my detox journey, tells me that there’s much more work to be done. Although I do miss having my occasional glass of Grand Marnier, and stuffing my face with ice cream; oh yeah, and coffee in the morning (UGH)!  I’m choosing to continue on this journey, and see how far it takes me. It’s time to dig those skeletons out the closet, and do some spring cleaning. After all, what ALREADY happened in the past cant hurt me anymore.




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Suffering in silence is common within the African American community. If you’re a woman we’re taught to be tough, hence the common phrase “A strong Black Woman.” If you’re a man you’re taught to hide your pain, because it can be seen as a weakness. I remember being a very emotional little girl, but it was hard for me to embrace that because I would get teased for being “too sensitive”. I learned early on that if I feel offended or hurt by something, the best way to deal with it is by burying it inside, and displaying a tough exterior. As an alternative to displaying vulnerability within our community we joke. We’ve managed to turn our pain into what we like to call “Cuttin Ass,” which basically translates to teasing. This is our defense mechanism. You know the saying “I laugh to keep from crying”? Well, we basically mastered it. If you didn’t grow up within our community, you wouldn’t last a minute without leaving feeling less than you did upon arriving. Walking into a room with my family is similar to walking into a room with Madea and Joe. There’s literally a ROASTING SESSION (another term for cutting ass) every single time.

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When there are serious matters on hand we revert to saying things like, “I’m good, and I will always be good, because I got me!” Which also translate to, “I’m hurt and I need help, but I feel alone.” I guess ill be the first one to admit that, at least the first person I know. Our pain is not seen as being pain because we display anger more often than any other emotion; hence the term “Angry black woman.” How could we show any other emotion when that’s the opposite of what we were taught? Remember that sensitive little girl I told you about at the beginning? Well she needed to survive her surroundings, so naturally she developed an alternative to displaying vulnerability by putting up a wall. What happens to our emotions behind the wall over time is they start to build up. This is why suffering in silence for me is no longer an option.

I know some of you were wondering about what’s the big deal on being vocal about dealing with a mood disorder, or dealing with anything for that matter.  Well, there you have it. We are so quick to post on social media about someone elses suicide, or suicide attempt, and say “suicide is real. Bullying is real,” but fail to realize that it is also real inside of our own homes. Burying our own feelings can lead to suicidal feelings as well. We say “Black people don’t attempt suicide,” but that’s not true. Why do we give more props to the woman who post things like, “I’ll always be good, no matter what! I never crumble!”  Than to the woman who post “I’ve been depressed for a while now, I wish I had someone to talk to.” We pride tough exteriors, and we judge and belittle sensitivity. We see it as being annoying and weak so no one wants to be affiliated with a weak person, right? If you think about the strength it would take to show your true emotions, you’ll realize who the truly weak person in this matter is. It’s very easy to hide behind ANY wall, or tough exterior. It takes guts to show who you truly are, and what you truly feel. It took me until this year to realize that I am now tougher than I’ve ever been in my entire life. I’ve cried more now than I’ve ever did, and I talk about how I feel and what’s going on. I’m subjected to criticism and being judged, but you know what? I’d rather be myself in this world, than to hide behind a character I’ve created to mask who I truly am. That’s all we’re really doing in life. Putting on a character for those to see what we assume might be a better version of ourselves, but it is not truly ourselves. We are not who we display, even to the closest people in our circle.

When did the definition of being human become flawless? We are meant to be flawed. If you’re a man who is told not to show your emotions, please understand that you are not just a protector of a household. You aren’t just the muscle of the family, but you are also entitled to having emotions as well. My nephew came home from school one day and said to me that he and his friend made a pact that when they got in trouble, no matter what they wouldn’t cry. My nephew was 9 years old, and it’s something that stuck with me because he’s already learning, just as I did about sensitivity being a weakness. I could understand how as a parent you wouldn’t want your child to display any type of vulnerability in front of other people because then he/she will be a target. I can also understand why our parents were doing the best they could to protect us growing up, and teaching us those same techniques. Without having any words left to say to my nephew about his new pact, mainly because I understand that it’s a survival technique inside of our community. I still feel for him and every other child who has to be taught to survive, rather than just be the best version of themselves, in order to maneuver in the world outside of our homes. I’m not sure how it works in any other community outside of my own, but I know that where I’m from has taught me resilience.

Being vocal about anything personal is a BIG DEAL. I guess you can say I’m stepping out of my comfort zone, and into the unknown. My goal is to set a new trend within our community. This trend will hopefully alter our perspectives on what we view as being weak, and ultimately allow enough space to be who we were born to be. This obviously won’t happen over night, but it will open the door to freeing our souls from hiding behind the expectations of our community.

-Love, ELLiE


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The moment I decided to separate Effie from Ellie marked the start of a new journey. For years I’ve blamed myself for being inadequate, and seemingly weak. I never understood the revolving question “Why me?” It wasn’t until recently, after years of searching outwardly for answers that I finally decided to ask a different question. Why Not me? What entitles me to being exempt from the defects that come with being human? After all, no one is perfect right? In my world dealing with PMDD is the worst thing to live with, but is it really? Well, of course not. Still, this is my truth and my struggle, so I deserve to express that too. I’ve searched everywhere for my own truth. I’ve looked towards doctors, family, drugs, alcohol and money for definition. I needed to define myself because I couldn’t differentiate who I am, compared to who I thought I was. Who I thought I was is nothing more than a comparison of myself to society standards. I’ve spent so much time feeling as if I wasn’t enough; but who set the standards? Who am I building myself up to be enough for? When I realized that the answer to those questions is ME, it totally changed my perspective. If I’m living up to my own standards, why do I care about what anyone else thinks? What is the pride in hurting in silence? Why can’t I be beautiful while displaying all of my flaws?

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The thing is I’ve known all of this, but at the same time I didn’t apply it. I’ve posted inspirational quotes on Facebook, but was I living in my truth? No. I only displayed what I thought people wanted to see and hurt in private. I displayed the fun, inspired, party girl; while hiding the depressed, suicidal broken girl. Now I’m not saying that everyone should go and tell all of their business on social media of course.  What I’m saying is if pain and suffering is a part of being human, why are we only talking about the upsides? Why are we taught to hide our flaws, instead of embracing them? The truth is embracing our flaws leads to a wholesome, more complete feeling. So why does society teach us to hate ourselves? The reason why is because businesses feed off of our emotions. Their job is to make us feel as if we’re missing out (FOMO), or missing a piece of ourselves because it’s the only way they can make sales. Weight loss commercials aren’t even about health at all; it’s literally about image. Why aren’t there more commercials about coping techniques and support groups? Society does a good job brainwashing us at an early stage. It took me 29 years to figure it out, so BRAVO! For 29 years I basically was a slave to my own brain. I’m rambling about all of this to say this is what led me into falling prey to the effects of PMDD. Everything in my world up until now consists of problems, and quick fixes. I see a problem and guarantee there’s a product out there to fix it, or at least mask the symptoms.

So for years I’ve searched for quick fixes to my problem; only to realize there’s no quick fix, only “PAUSE.”  I can press pause on my problems, but I can’t fix them. Why? Because you can only fix what’s broken, and I am not. I’m only human, and being human is beauty AND flaws.

Separating Effie from Ellie for me meant taking ownership of both sides. No matter how much I hate the down side of dealing with a mood disorder, I also embrace it. It’s no longer a hidden topic.  What I didn’t expect is what happened next after embracing my WHOLE self. After years of searching for happiness, guess what happened next? This might sound like a bit of a cliché, but the moment I consciously stopped searching and found peace with all sides of me; that’s when it all stopped. I was no longer a victim searching for answers. For the first time in my life I had control of my own life. Instead of searching for a quick fix, I started to record when I experience shifting in my mood, and what it feels like. I also pin pointed when I felt closer to my true self (Ellie), and I separated the two while still embracing the oneness of both identities. Doing this granted me full control over my life. I no longer see PMDD as the enemy, but as a tainted part of my being. It’s my flaw in this imperfect world. My storm because the sun doesn’t shine forever; my darkness until there’s light. The more I acknowledge the differences, as well as the oneness; the less control Effie (PMDD) has over me. So here’s my F*CK YOU to society Standards.

-Love, ELLiE


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Talking about my struggles have both freed and challenged me at the same time. It’s easy to hide my problems acting as if they don’t exist, while blending in with the rest of the world who appears to be more functional than myself. Although I’ve made it my mission to be open and honest, it’s still difficult to bear when you have people openly judging you. It’s easy to say I don’t care about what other people think, but that again will be a cover up to what I really feel. I do care about what other people think. That has been the main source holding me back from achieving anything authentic in my life; what lies right beyond that emotion is fear. It seems like fear plays a part in every thought and action in life whether it be good or bad. There’re times when I’m superwoman without the cape tackling all obstacles, and everyone surrounding me is exposed to my infectious energy, as I spread smiles all around. During these moments I’m making all the right decisions, and saying all the right things. My energy is through the roof and whatever problems yesterday held, no longer has an impact on today’s outcome.

“It’s easy to hide my problems acting as if they don’t exist, while blending in with the rest of the world who appears to be more functional than myself.”

When I’m in this state of bliss, the only thing that can damper this moment is a reminder of the damage PMDD caused, and will continue to cause. We all have a past but what happens when that past is reoccurring in your present life, and we have no control over the damage it causes. I wish I could wake up one day and put it behind me, or at least put it into remission. The scars from PMDD are UGLY and REAL. Each time I look for a job, or try to rekindle a broken friendship; I’m reminded of the scars that’s still lingering. Will a school understand that you can be a straight ‘A’ student for a month straight, and suddenly become their most unreliable student? Will a job understand why getting up to actually go to work at times is nearly impossible? Will a person get that you’re a great friend some of the time, then other times you’re emotionally unavailable to them? I’ve been so afraid to start projects because I have a record of not finishing them, and I’m reminded every single time I’m forced to look at my progress. Holding on to meaningful relationships is even harder when at times I’m seemingly not the same person they fell in love with. It gets depressing knowing that I have what it takes to conquer anything in life, but I also have a disability that hinders me from achieving mostly everything I set out to do. Acknowledging that I deserve a chance to be great is what keeps me in the game. Scars represent healing, strength and resilience. It shows that you’re indestructible and you didn’t quit.

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I haven’t written anything in over a month because the fear of constant exposure has been haunting me. During this time I’ve been so disconnected with myself it’s almost unbearable. How can I give up when so many woman need to hear my story? How can I give up when so many of us are silent in fear of being judged? A close person once asked me “How many people do you think attempted suicide in their lifetime?” This forced me to search suicide statistics, and according to “On average there are 129 suicides per day. Suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in the US. In 2017, 47,173 Americans died by suicide. In 2017 there were an estimated 1,400,000 attempted suicide attempts.” (1) This isn’t shocking to me, but the question that followed is what triggered something in me. She asked “Well how many brothers do you have? How many of them do you think attempted suicide, and never spoke about it?” That question still brings tears to my eyes. I was so worried about coming out about my suicide attempts that I lost sight of the purpose of this whole website Speak’N Up. My main objective is to talk about things that we don’t talk about ENOUGH.

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We hide our pain and scars to present a tough exterior, but at the same time forgetting that our souls need freedom too. I told myself that talking about my struggles with mental illness and suicide attempts is not an act of weakness; it’s an act of courage. It’s the strongest I’ve ever had to be in my entire life. I want people to be aware, and understand that the person next door from you could be struggling, and you wouldn’t know. The prettiest face in the crowd could be struggling, and you wouldn’t know. The wealthiest, seemingly happiest, healthiest person can be struggling, and you wouldn’t know. As a black woman in America I’m often portrayed as being dramatic, or hormonal if I were to show any type of emotion. This made it difficult for me to voice what I felt growing up in fear of being thrown into that box. I’ve mastered being a Strong Black Woman on the outside, while hiding inside of the bathroom and attempting to slit my wrist, and coming back out covering myself up with sleeves over my wrist with a smile on my face. I grew up around my brothers who I’ve never seen them cry. I could imagine what their holding inside of them, and for what? This is what we do as a society. We don’t talk about the major truths, but we praise the illusions we’ve created to cover them up.
There’s beauty in the struggle, don’t be afraid of your truth.

-Love, ELLiE

If you need help, and you’re dealing with suicidal thoughts, please visit and also