I Dreamt of Her

Here’s a bit of a back story:

My Grandmama, my dad’s mother, was one of my best friends growing up. She would watch my brother and I while our parents were at work. I have so many wonderful memories with her, I could write a novel on them.  On top of that, I look exactly like her; so much that you can’t differentiate our elementary school pictures.

But, in late June of 2003, she passed away. To this day, I can see how much my family miss her when they look at me. Her parents, my great grandparents, I can feel their hurt and love when they look at me. I can feel the grief in my core when I look in their eyes.


A few nights ago, I had a dream that I was getting married to my current boyfriend. I was walking up the church steps and all of my female family members were on both sides of the stairs. As I walked up, all of them were patting my back, giving me side hugs, but I never touched their hands with my own. On the top left step, there she was; my Grandmama. I think she’s only visited me once before and I can hardly remember, but this was so vivid that I think it will be remembered. As I walked to her, she reached her hand out and I grabbed it as I kept walking. Our grip tightened until we finally let go because I had walked too far away; but I walked about three more steps afterwards.  I turned around and looked at her, and she was so beautiful. She was young and she was radiating to the point I couldn’t see anybody passed her. I walked to her and embraced her in the only way you embrace somebody when you haven’t seen them in fourteen years. Even if it was a dream, hugging my Grandmama was the most comforting event that could have happened. I cried. I cried so hard in her shoulder that I felt my abdomen shake and I held her so tight. Next thing I knew, my alarm went off and it was time for work.

It was a dream, but it was the most real feeling dream I have ever experienced.



If you could visit three historic events, just to experience them and not change anything, which events would you go to?


This has always been my favorite ice-breaker. I believe it gives you a slight insight as to what kind of person it is that you’re meeting. So, here are my three events.

  1. The eruption of Mt. Vesuvius at Pompeii. That whole page of history has always been an event that has grabbed my attention since elementary school. Is it grim? Oh yeah. Would it scar me to see everyone turn into statues in seconds? More than likely. But the sheer intensity would honestly leave me speechless. Studying the area before and after the eruption, the ash falling on the bodies that are forever in the positions of fear and comforting, is so interesting to me. I’m not sure how to explain in. I’ve researched and written so many papers on it and I still want to learn more.
  2. Martin Luther King Jr.’s ‘I Have A Dream’ speech. Yet another chapter in history that has sparked my interest all the way back to elementary school. It was the abundance of love that radiated from him that inspired and interested me. I wanted to be like him; so strong in faith, compassion, and able to bring people together. That man inspires me to this day and always will.
  3. Now this one has jumped between a few different ones, mainly the first two date back to my childhood; they’re ingrained. One that is really pulling me in right now is Atlantis. If it existed, I would want to witness the sinking of it. What did it look like? Where the citizens afraid or did they grasp it?  How did an entire city sink? What natural cause did this? I’ve been asking myself these questions since I learned about it long ago, but all I can do is research.


Hopefully you know me a little better after reading this, maybe not. Who knows? I just know that if I got the chance to witness any of those events, I wouldn’t have a second thought.

Tell me what three events you would want to experience and why! Or just name them off! #ThreeHistoricEvents


Today, I saw family. I went grocery shopping. I felt comfortable enough in a few dresses to buy them. I’m slowly getting comfortable in this new body, or at least trying to. 

And today, I sang for the first time in my car in, what has felt like, months. 

I have depression, but depression does not have me. 

Depression Isn’t Beautiful. 

It’s ugly. So, so ugly. It’s not showering for days and wearing the same clothes that you wore to work to sleep in. It isn’t brushing your teeth for probably a week straight. It’s making plans and then bailing because you smell and you can’t bring yourself to leave the house. It’s sleeping way too much and then not sleeping at all. It’s laying in bed, tired but awake, staring at the wall or ceiling; not really thinking about anything in particular. It’s zoning out and then coming to, only to break down crying because you don’t know what you’ve become. It’s looking in a mirror for the first time in days and not recognizing yourself. 

You want to be so much better, but you don’t know how. You want to go back to yourself with open arms, but you don’t know where she is. You want to have the strength to smile and laugh genuinely, but it seems like there’s nothing to be happy about, no matter how many people love you. 

Depression is not beautiful. It’s ugly, terrifying, and deadly. 

“Bitterness is a Hot Coal…

That you plan on throwing at somebody, but burn yourself more in the process.”
I always believed that depression was the most blinding state to be in and there was nothing to match; but I’ve recently discovered that bitterness is a close second. I despise being so bitter and cold; I wake up in grumpy mode and I can’t stand it. I’m not sure how to come back from it; I hope I do. All that I can think about is how people have wronged me and how I’ve wronged others. I’m not perfect, but I feel as though I could be better. 


My anxiety is my muscles tensing up. It’s similar to the way your bones and every atom in you shivers when it is cold out and you didn’t think about grabbing a coat. Shivers that run down your spine all the way to your toes and making every muscle in you tense up. It’s forgetting about right now and worrying about the future or the exact opposite. It’s feeling warm but freezing at the same time. 
It’s exhaustion right after and sometimes soreness the next morning. It’s a cycle that can go on for minutes or hours with no end in sight. There is no winding down or slow stop. It will stop and start again like a bad engine trying it’s best. Then it will just stop and you sit there, still, just in case you begin shaking again. Once you realize it has passed, you either eat or sleep. Most of the time, you’re still too nauseous to eat so you’ll drink some water or Gatorade and sleep. 


A week before I left the hospital, I was terrified. I didn’t know if I was ready to go home; to go back to ‘normal’. I wanted to be sure that I was as close to healthy as I could possibly be because I didn’t want to spiral back down. I knew my home life and I knew that I wouldn’t have somebody with me 24/7 like I did in the cushion of the behavioral center.

The day I was discharged, I said my goodbyes to the friends I had made. We acknowledged my accomplishments and I hugged everybody’s necks with tears in my eyes. I wished everybody the best and I knew they would never leave my heart. My dad came to get me at the end of the day and we drove home. I was so excited to see my cat and to sleep in my own bed. My grandparents were visiting that day to do a low country boil, so it was nice to be able to spend time with them and eat wonderful food my first day back home.

The next day wasn’t so nice and fluffy. It was raw and it was mentally draining. My dad and I got into a small argument and asked me if I needed to go back to the hospital. I was considering it. I didn’t feel like I was ready to come home. I felt that way for about three months until I finally got into a somewhat routine. I would have mental breakdowns, I cried so much, and I was alone a lot of the time. It’s been a struggle adjusting to real life from the hospital and that was always a concern of mine. I didn’t want to be cozy in the hospital then get dumped into the spikes and rocks of real life.

You never know if you’re ready until you get out there and try. It is possible; it’s tough and it’s a battle, but you’re not alone in it. Just be sure you have people around you who care and are able to see your warning signs of emotional relapse.