My Healing Doesn’t Have a Time Limit Journal
118 page journal.....Inspired by this writing...
I’m usually light but I’m not afraid of a little razzle dazzle either. I prefer not to gather anyone up and read them. I allow everyone to move at their own pace and if by chance I can be of assistance, I’m there. I chose to keep my post and doings black yesterday for Black Out Tuesday. It’s Wednesday now and people been testing me since Monday. I would like to ask that you keep in mind that you don’t honestly “know” me. If you read a book, knew me as a child, or in my early twenties but never actually shared space with me on my journey, you don’t know me. You aren’t allowed the privilege to question my healing. You aren’t allowed the space to come at me sideways. You don’t have the right to tell me what to feel and when to feel. You aren’t allowed to put a timeframe on where I should be on my path. I don’t care if we’re related that doesn’t mean we’re tight like that. I don’t care if we were neighbors in 99’. My healing isn’t up for discussion. When I posted I was coming back to my business full time after 13 weeks, I had some folks slide down incorrectly. I don’t recall anyone of them sitting in here when I mourned my uncle. I don’t recall anyone of them helping me track down my uncle’s children or make his arrangements. I don’t recall anyone of them emailing my supporters or offering to donate to my business from Covid cancellations. I don’t recall anyone of them holding my hand as I packed soot filled toys and clothes. Nor do I recall anyone of them pulling up with any support for anything. So you don’t get to ask “are you sure it’s time?” Or “are you sure aren’t resolving?” definitely not “I thought you would’ve been back by now.” I allow myself space and grace to what I need to do for my wellbeing. I don’t sit in my shit allowing it to eat me alive though. I also refuse to rush myself to keep up with the internet. I’m not sure if people think I’m supposed to walk around defeated doing myself a disservice. Bitterness doesn’t live here. I am not going to ball up in a corner and stay there. I’m not wearing a mask for nobody’s comfort. Now your processing of trauma may be different and that’s fine. Just don’t come questioning mine. I don’t know how I’m going to receive it. I might respond in a way you never thought I was capable of. Now if you need food, business resources, a petition to sign, self care ideas, some encouragement, a stick of sage etc, I’m here. Just keep your hands off my healing. I have love for y’all. 💛