Anxiety dat u?

Anxiety dat u?

Unintentionally I have been working through my diagnoses these past few years.

Just because the US healthcare system has been so inaccessible, miserable, and expensive for me doesn’t mean I reject the illnesses put upon me.

However making sense of the roots of all of those manifestations of ‘illness’ are mostly based in my personality, in my birth chart, in what I see as accepted behaviors based in my difference to what is acceptable. That’s ableism in its original core. Treating people differently because of what they can or cannot do to your liking, physically or even socially. To expand, differently based on pseudo white supremacist realing class concepts of ‘health’, decorum, and appropriateness according to white men that tell you so.

I’ve written about this especially in the past year, where identity politics has been on the forefront and niggas been stressing me out.

What has been the grounding thoughts behind this is not new age wellness practices that are becoming more visible and accessible because of social media, although it does contribute. Winks in diaspora*, it’s been me being the hypercritical bad bitch I am, aka the capricorn ascendent jumped out. It’s also more than truly engaging and applying intersectional thought to all aspects of my life. It’s this continual process of decolonization and seeing different levels of the matrix.

I’ve been resistant to reject the labels I found to once describe me wholeheartedly. Not because I resist change, but because I value clarity. If it’s more about exploring the depth of said identity label, or simply finding it’s more complex than that, and simply isn’t the right one. I accept my existence, like yours, is complex af and words will never fully describe, but for my experiences in this lifetime, this the best we got!

I’ve been intentional in the process since 2017, and still haven’t gotten used to how it manifests literally everyday.

This has been a process of rejections of the bullshit-violence imposed upon me at all levels. An enthusiastic hell yeah to the decolonization, but my anti matrix work is also based in continuing to explore and define myself, all whilst growing and taking into the experiences around me. Reiki, communicating with my ancestors, literally getting in touch with my own spiritual inclinations and energy has been that bitch.

I ain’t never been a no labels bih, but I understand the allure now more than ever. I also am still community centric and like to attach. What I’m identifying with now is not so different from when I started my gender sexuality journey in unison. It’s just that there’s so much context and layers to explain the nuance from nonBlack queer people without multiple analyses of oppression that it’s impossible to really continually explain or even express.

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Since moving to where my support system is strong - where the Homies reside I haven’t felt the same anxiety I’ve known since I was in middle school. Now the evolution of that anxiety as I’ve matured.

What usually makes me anxious?: general fear and disgust via the predatory male gaze, technical-clerical intensive interactions where people take advantage of your naivety and ~the first move~ in the lesbian tradition of not engaging one another directly or intentionally, etc.

Most of what gives me anxiety is things relating to long public interactions. That manifests in my body as difficulty speaking, sweating, shortness of breath, heart palpitations, heightened senses, and increasing sensitivity to all factors in my environment - like someone’s actions or words, whether or not directed to me.

 

There’s no fear of romantic rejection or worry of not being able to complete a task base off irrationality of the conditions of the situation. My anxiety is based in basic processes over complicated by the violence of others in this society.

I’ve seen my anxiety evolve from my own innate ‘irrational’ fears to long lists of interactions of disrespeKt, ridiculousness, and social gymnastics that I understand as the standard of all of my interactions. Not because I’m ‘crazy’ as ableist, or people that hate Disabled people would say. But because how people interact with me based off appearance alone is always stress inducing. That’s not the same as fear inducing.

 

For example going grocery shopping as a hwite woman may not be stressful for you. But i my body I get stared at a lot, whether it be sexualization, demonization, masculinization, or general disdain. In public space like government offices, stores, and restaurants, people look at me like they have a problem off the jump. People interact with me rudely off the jump.

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I’m always working backwards to be seen and heard without assumption. That’s the experience of a darkskin Black femme.

 

This difference I have acknowledge hasn’t been from always seeing how others around me are treated differently, it’s been specific to seeing how others on the Black woman spectrum are treated by others. It’s an amazing contrast. This colorism is more than how whypeepoo treat me, it’s other darkskin people, other Black people, other black people, and other poc.

And all of that is based in appearance. Those how much that affects my everyday interactions.

Someone that didn’t read this post: are those excuses for mental illness and wilding?

Me: No all that shit is subjective.

And that subjectivity applies to the ableist equivalence of mental illness and inherent criminality or deviance.

 

Soooo with these continually evolving notions of identity and a new plane of of support did my ~mental illnesses~ disappear? No. But my basic need for emotional support certainly was an aspect, and I think a major contributing factor has been finally my psychedelic experiences.

It’s not rare to hear a Black girl say she’s talked to god.

or has sat in her palm,

or has held her hand.

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That’s my reality.

Since being in Johannesburg I’ve felt completely different, like I have actually seen the path i life I want for myself rather than make do with the options laid out in front of me, the lifestyles I see lived whether in person or online. I’ve tripped now a handful of times and while it has been fun and feels great, in combination with all these other factors, I feel better than I have in my entire life. The closest equivalent of this feeling is when I’ve been financially secure, on 6 different medications, in intensive therapy, and still felt miserable and suicidal. THAT has been the most secure part in my adult life. And now, things feel a lot different. I’m different, but the physical factors of life like money and forced interactions with goofy nonBlack is still draining of the soul. Watching Black people die everyday at the hands of white supremacy and its protectors still escavates my core.

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But intentionally, and unexpectedly, my life has had such an immense change this month, as the result of months of focusing on my need for clarity and security from the universe. Clarity on what I’m doing here amongst the goofies and affirmation towards staying here regardless of physical life factors shouldn’t effect my ability to exist.

Did I manifest this?

I’m at that point in ?everything? where I accept there’s so much more than the bounds of what my mind can see and conceptually fathom rather than what I actually feel and interpret.

God didn’t say fuck anxiety, I felt her and we communicated. And from those interactions alone, all earthly worries dissapear, but also these manifestations of mental illness as I know them via white supremacist condiitons have too.

 

Here I am simply listening to my intuition and being on my spiritual shit and I’m GOOD good. I can’t be preoccupied with what I call or it, let alone, how talking about these intimate things about myself can be perceived. Me being spoiled* means I’m used to getting what I want. This is an experience I’ve been theorizing as impossible since all of my efforts have felt to slow and stagnant. But here we are.

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Do you understand poverty as a root cause of mental health issues and suicidality? I do

I have a great grip on my mental health and all that I fear is the promise of that slipping away as I remain without a fulltime job or health access. I’m not willing to go backwards.

So many benefit from my words and the space I hold, and yet somehow don’t know how to support me.

you can support me by donating to me/ via reparations.

venmo @ hesnabeep

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