A Story of Yesterday and Today
When I woke up yesterday, I could feel the weight of my body and my burdens. Pretty immediately I felt nauseous and wanted to vomit. I did. Then I cried. All within ten minutes of opening my eyes.
I took my medicine, nearly choking it down, my body not wanting to cooperate with me, and I wrapped myself in my robe and went back to bed where I would remain the majority of the day.
In my mind, the thoughts swirled of how lonely I felt. Loneliness scares me. Loneliness is what lead me to call the man who raped me. Still, I craved intimate companionship. Not necessarily romantically, but I was craving something I couldn’t put a name on.
I began to mentally punish myself; I told myself I was too fat and spent a good hour researching various weight loss options, from the in home workout to bariatric surgery. I told myself things would be different if I had more money. I berated myself for my credit situation. Letting myself fall from a 780 to a 588, how? Severe depression, and anxiety disorder, not working full time, caring for a dying parent and basically just.completely overwhelmed by life to worry about bills.
I punished myself for being desperate. I told myself that my faith wasn’t strong enough and if I truly believed in all the things I espouse that I wouldn’t be feeling this way. I called myself a fraud and I honestly and truly let myself have it.
It was an ugly, ugly day.
Three things happened that brought me out of that space. The first? A reminder from facebook ten years ago where my dad proclaimed, “I think you’ve found your purpose!” He commented it on a post where I was soapbox pontificating about how misunderstood anxiety and depression are and how they can impact so many other areas of your life. Not only was it an on-the-nose reminder of my purpose, it also broke me down because i was a message from my dad. I know it was 10 years ago, but it was also right then in that moment. I know that I was supposed to see that message from him right then because I know he’s still with me. He read all my blogs, and posts, and musings and I really didn’t appreciate or understand the gravity of that at the time. But, he was interested in knowing me as a person, not just as his kid. My dad was actively working to See me and to Hear me. Coming to that realization brought a lot more tears, the recollection brings tears even now, but more even, it brought a crack in the wall depression had built around me, keeping me from feeling all the love from my tribe.
The second thing that happened was an accidental call from my friend, Candice. We would later discover it was a butt dial, but the significance of it being her is important. Though we went to high school together and were friends through our social circle, we bonded and truly became friends as adult women battling anxiety and depression. In our moments of feeling low, we would text one another “Your Depression is a liar!” We would remind one another that the story depression was telling, wasn’t the truth and we helped one another, ultimately, remember who we were. Though her call was an accident, when I saw her name across my phone, it was a Pavlovian response to say out loud, “MY DEPRESSION IS A LIAR!” I revisited an instagram post I’d made earlier in the day where I wrote
I often feel alone and unsupported. Unheard and unseen. I, then, attribute my loneliness to some deficiency and a whole spiral of shame begins. A narrative that paints me out to be not enough. Unworthy of love. Unworthy of being truly Seen and unworthy of being truly Heard.
I am hopeful that in time I can change the narrative, but right now in this moment? It’s relentless.
Earlier, some friends, obviously trying to show love and support commented hearts. I had deleted them. Angry. I felt, I am crying out to be seen and affirmed and all you can muster is an emoji? I knew then I wasn’t in a place to receive. But after seeing the call from Candice, my mood shifted. Your depression is a liar . I reiterated the fact to myself. I went back to my post and I saw more comments, specifically one from an old roommate and friend, Nikki, she said “
GIRL, YOU ARE FUCKING EVERYTHING AND DON’T YOU EVER THINK ANYTHING LESS!
I told her I heard her, and I did. the words came in as a whisper and it was the first inkling all day I’d had that perhaps I wasn’t the failure I’d painted myself out to be. It seemed that Nikki’s message was something of a floodgate opening because next came a message from another friend who said
WATCHING YOU MANIFEST BIG THINGS ENCOURAGES ME TO REACH FOR MY OWN.
I was partially receptive to the message. Telling her I still had work to do and not at all acknowledging all of the absolutely amazing things I have been able to overcome and manifest into my life.
Lastly, was a message from my ex-partner Eboni. She was sharing with me fantastic news, and I congratulated her knowing all that she had to contend with on her journey to wellness. I thought about where we began, and how our roads separated as we ventured on our own individual wellness journeys. I remembered seeing her at her lowest, her seeing me at my lowest and us encouraging each other, providing places of safety. I recalled nights of panic I could not stop crying I felt so overwhelmed by how I felt my anxiety impeded my gifts, stopping me from recording videos or being more social commanding the audience I know I could command. Eb comforted me and promised me that anything I could dream I could achieve, reminding me of the times I had been able to do so before. So, when after congratulating her on her own big news, it fully landed when she said to me:
I LEARNED FROM WATCHING YOU. I STARTED SCRIPTING EVERY WEEK THIS YEAR AND WOW THE DOORS THAT HAVE OPENED, THAT ISH WORKS.
When she said the words, it was like a fire was reignited in me. A recollection of my purpose, to help people heal, came into full view and what I understood about myself on the other side of yesterday is that, everything that happened is exactly what makes me wholly qualified to be a thought leader and facilitator of wellness and self-care work. Because despite my feeling like absolute shit, despite hating my body and despite believing myself unworthy to be loved, I showed up for myself by being dedicated to my practice of self care. It is no lie that discipline is the greatest display of self-love.
****
Today I woke up and I knew that I needed to write. I needed to blog and I needed to be completely honest. I needed to tell the truth and be forthcoming so that people know exactly what healing can look like. My truth is my gift, not my words or my lectures. It’s my willingness to give all of myself and understand that there is value even in the ugly. My presentation is never going to be perfect and I don’t want it to be. I want it to be honest. I want it to be real. I want it to be trustworthy and truthful and painfully resonant. I want people to experience my work and feel me.
I am still 334lbs and I still feel every bit of that number. I struggle to eat, and I struggle with working out because I don’t eat OR, I simply do not have the stamina and get frustrated at the process. I realize this happens to everyone for me, when I realize the reason I weigh 334lbs is because of medicine and stress related to being sexually assaulted? I spiral into a deep rage filled sadness. I know that my weight loss journey is going to be one that is therapeutic and will require me working with a trainer who understands me and my needs.
My credit is still a 588. I cannot rent my own apartment despite making enough money from my salary. Most property management companies don’t care to hear your story, it all boils down to the number. I have resigned myself to the fact that I will have to fix my credit on my own. I don’t have parents or a partner to co-sign on things to help. It doesn’t feel appropriate to ask a friend to, and so I just have to pray for the money to come and in time I’ll fix it myself. But what I cannot continue to do is believe that I am undeserving of safety and peace because at one point in my life, I could not manage my finances. My mind isn’t bad or broken. I am not irresponsible or foolish. I needed help and I didn’t know any other way to get through what I was going through at the time. I cannot continue to punish myself for not knowing any better and doing what I needed to do to survive a very difficult situation.
What I can understand about myself yesterday that escaped me yesterday, is that all of me can be used in service of my purpose. God didn’t put me here to have perfect credit and a perfect body and perfect photos on instagram to tell people how to live perfect lives. God put me here in THIS body with THIS credit and all my other specifics so that I could rise anyway and show everyone around me that it is not what you are called, it is what you answer to. That 334lbs only means what I make it mean. That 588 credit score holds me back so long as I allow it to. But when I remember every “impossible” feat that I have overcome in this life, when I consider that a simple tweet lead me to collaborating with a 4x NYT best selling Author and Researcher? When I take my life into context, I remember who I am and the game changes.
So if I have anything to offer by way of advice? It’s to get you some people in your life who will see the museum in you when all you see are empty walls. Get you people who will speak life into you. Get you those people and keep them. Develop practices that will help you develop disciplined self-love and self-care. Trust me, I will have more to say on this in the coming months. But above all, never for a moment believe yourself to be unworthy of love and unworthy of being Seen and Heard. You are more than worthy. You could never be deficient because you were made in the image of the divine. Circumstances may lack and times may be challenging, but you are always whole, complete and worthy. Anything said to the contrary is noise.
MY NAME IS JESSICA JAMESE WILLIAMS. I AM A TEACHER AND HEALER 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: