Jessica Jamese

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Are you there God, it’s ya girl...

Today I had an outburst of emotion. The kind you can’t even bother to control. I was overflowing with emotion. I’d been nervous for days that I hadn’t heard anything from HR after accepting my job offer. Long story short...it fell through. I went from feeling relieved I’d paid some bills up in preparation to be back in the salaried, benefits boat only to have the whole thing capsize in one afternoon. I felt furious. 

There was no one to cry to. That’s what hurt the most. I dreaded talking to my mom. My dad’s cancer has monopolized everyone’s emotional energy for the past 9 months and before that it was his heart attack. I realized I’ve been holding my breath hoping this man won’t die for two years. TWO YEARS. 

I thought about the last time I felt like this. Eboni was there and she rubbed my back and told me everything was going to work itself out. A few weeks later I was calling 911 and once again alone in the midst of crisis asking myself WHAT NOW? 

Im so angry. I’m furious really. For so many reasons. My dad’s shitty health has held us hostage for two years. My own issues have made it damn near impossible for me to stand upright for long. I have great friends and family but I still do not have a partner. Someone who is checking on me and pouring love back into me. I’m depleted. I feel like I’ve been giving and giving and giving and giving and now I’m dry. 

My thoughts feel unappreciative. I know lots of people pray for me. Have given me advice or a listening ear, he’ll even money to pay my bills when I needed it. Still...it does not replace having to go to sleep alone and wake up alone with your own most self-destructive thoughts. 

I know I probably romanticize the idea of relationship. But god I just think how I don’t want to sleep alone tonight....and I hear Demi sing the words “mama I’m so sorry I’m not sober anymore....it’s only when I’m lonely.” And I cringe because I understand what it’s like to want to escape the palpable sound of only your own thoughts. 

Jameal, I’m using the money you sent to go to yoga. I suppose to some it might seem frivolous to spend money on something superfluous when I’m close to being evicted, and every single bill I have is past due. But what I’ve learned being here before, is that without my mind and my soul in tact, I’ll never make it out of this hell.

Since it seems to be my lot in life to be alone, I guess I just want to learn how to be okay with me. Just me. It made me cry to write that. Because it’s not truly what I want. I want love but if I’m being honest? I’ve been asking people to love me for far too long. 

I want my mom to love me even though I smoke. Even though I’m unemployed. Even though I got fired and can’t seem to get my anxiety in order. Maybe she does and I just project disappointment onto her; though I’m pretty keen at discernment.

I want my friends to love me. Even when I can’t make them laugh or am too caught up in my own thoughts to give sound advice. It always surprises me when friends remind me of my talents and abilities. My friendships are sometimes the only way I know I’m a good person.

I want a partner who I never have to ask to hold me, listen to me, or dream with me. I’ve survived horrible and traumatic things but none more scarring than having a man awaken love inside of you with no intentions of sustaining it. It does make you bitter and guarded. And it makes me wonder who I have to be to get reciprocity?

Most of all I want to continually, unshakably believe that I deserve that kind of love. Love without condition. And I want to be strong enough to walk away when anything less than what I deserve is being offered. I asked Greg to come over tonight. To forget the competing obligations and to choose me. As I sit here alone, I think God—I want someone who chooses me...and God? I never want to have to ask them to.

God, I just want to be at peace. That’s why I need yoga more than I need to pay my cell phone bill...and why I know my days here in this place are coming to an end. I have tried and tried to make home My Home....but I fear just as I romanticized love, I romanticize Atlanta.

This city doesn’t fit me. Not anymore. And I’m tired of trying to make it work when it’s so clearly just not going to work. So God, please order my steps. Keeping in mind my heart and my soul can’t take much more. I want love, God. I want to feel love vibrating from my next move. I want to feel appreciated. Seen. Valued. I want to feel my whole self has a place in the room and a voice at the table.

I feel like right now I have nothing to lose...I’ve lost everything. My car. My condo. My credit. Best friends. Lovers. Gone. And I’ll never get any of it back. I’ve stopped wishing for it back. What I want now? It’s all about love. I want to be deeply in love with my life. And what I know now is that, that love? It is not here.

 MY NAME IS JESSICA JAMESE WILLIAMS. I AM AN ENERGY WORKER WHO IS PRIMARILY HEALING MYSELF. I AM ALLOWING THE WORLD TO WITNESS MY IMPERFECT PROCESS. I AM STRONG ON MOST DAYS AND I AM WEAK ON OTHERS, STILL EVERYDAY I AM TRYING.  I HEAL THROUGH MY ART, AND THIS IS JUST ONE MEDIUM. IF I CREATE SOMETHING THAT MOVES YOU, SHOW LOVE THROUGH SHARING THIS POST, BOOKING A SERVICE AND/OR SENDING A DONATION:

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