Here I sit, Double Platinum on the screen dealing with some of the same issues that I have dealt with for the past twenty three years. Unlike the movie, I haven't fully reconciled with my family ties.
Its been four years since my grandmother died, twenty three years since I was born to an unwed mother, and somewhere in between a hard shell formed around my heart; feelings of rejection, abandonment, and isolation often leading to anger and frustration. It is not something that is instantly noticed about me, but f your around me long enough, you'll see. Sometimes I find myself mad for no reason or depressed that I don't want to get out of the bed, but the reality is that I have to. I am a wife and the mother of two beautiful biracial cuties, and I gotta' keep my head up so I have finally asked for some help. I haven't started going yet, but I do plan to see a counselor, therapist, psychologist, or psychiatrist in the future. The truth is I need to work through some issues which requires talking to a non bias party. Dispite the confidence that I often exude in my writing I often feel like a broken little girl.
I now realize my "Journey Through Grief," didn't start when my grandmothers' misty grey casket was dropped in the ground, it's been with me from childhood to adolescence. I had some scars that weren't completely healed so scabs kept forming and left unsightly blemishes on my skin.
This is only the beginning, it's time for freedom in adulthood.
Peace and Love,
Najeema Iman, I AM Curly Locks
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