Run Away

When I stare down the barrel of my decisions,

I wonder who’s the witness to the crimes that I’ve committed?

Breaking this law of life and I’m just waiting for my sentence,

Fired from my duties like I was playing apprentice.

What’s the value of friendship when trauma collides?

Shadowed in pride, depression seeping both of our minds.

Run away for dear life as I’m fighting for mine.

Reaction is a passion and it’s sending a sign.

Too long for rulers and too close for cigars,

We lost the only thing we ever had that’s truly ours.

Leaving with a grievance while battling all your heathens

And breathing the toxic air will have your mental health weakened. 

Yes, I’m heated, but it has to be done.

What’s said has been said and your next step is to run.

So farewell and good luck, sis, the time has been fun.

I’m not stopping anyone so if you’re jumping the gun,

Run away.


Diagnosis…they’re handing it out to me like bills.

Major Depression. Social Anxiety. Obesity. Diabetes. Sleep Apnea. Insomnia. Carpal Tunnel. Bell’s Palsy as a teen.

How am I even alive? How am I still striving? This isn’t even mentioning past poverty, discrimination, loneliness, self-confidence, and other things that effect the diagnosis’s above, but are separate issues in their own.

So with all this holding me back, what makes me still fight? Is it stubbornness? Is it ambition? Is it family? Is it impact or glory or proven strength? Why won’t I let myself give up?

I’ve done so much in my life. All have had its roadblocks, but I’ve always managed to get something out of my experiences; either its incentive or knowledge. I live as a broken mind and heart that for some reason refuses to dim the light and die. Is this hell on earth or an angel in dust?

Sometimes it feels like masochism. Sometimes it feels like determination. Sometimes it feels like hope and sometimes it feels like hopelessness.

Even in a losing battle, I have no other option but to keep fighting. Lay down and die? Fuck that.

Take this diagnosis. I’m never going to quit. I will either raise my sword in victory or die with my sword in hand. It’s not over. Thanks for reading.


1st Priority

I want to be someone’s 1st priority. Is that too much to ask?

If I’m needed for help, royally, I’m down for the task.


Yes, I am loved, and we all have our lives.

But I can’t seem to escape loneliness, to no one’s surprise.


I hate that I need it, attention, I mean.

I reach out for touch, but I feel I’m rarely seen.


A ghost in the real world, but a soldier in mine.

My trust is in crumbles, I cringe when it’s time.


My friends are all busy and women don’t try.

Associates are temporary and enemies are high.


Professionals are fake and strangers are rude.

I can’t deal with life, I’m not in the mood.


I’ll go back to my home, the world I will flee.

And remain no one’s priority, as far as I can see.





The Evening I Almost Checked Myself into a Mental Hospital

We are about to get real with this one. Yesterday, I almost checked myself into a hospital. I had a mental/nervous/panic breakdown where I could not move, I was shaking and trembling, and I had WAY too many thoughts in my head. All I could do in that moment is DM a friend who I’ve recently had disputes with and was not on speaking terms. I missed my friend though, and for some reason I felt the need to spill all my thoughts into her lap. (I know, that’s not healthy, but I never said I was perfect.)

All she could tell me was to go to a mental hospital.  And she was very persistent about it.

“No, I’m not doing that.” “This is not my first rodeo, I can handle it.” “I don’t want to scare my family, friends, and the people that look up to me.” “I’m supposed to be the strong one.”

I spewed all of these excuses into her Instagram messages. Excuses I still run by, but I admit, excuses nonetheless. I low key felt like I needed to go, but I was being defiant and fearful for a new journey that I have never dared to step into..

“I’m not that crazy, am I?”

I thought to myself…I spent a good amount of time alternating between searching for a hospital and screaming in my bed sheets. Feeling my heart beating terribly fast and trying to calm down. Even when I started to calm, I still felt the need to go. I did not want my friend to freak out and I wanted to go so she felt at peace somewhat.

I had no idea where to look, what kind of hospital to find, if I needed to call a hotline, or what. I was so lost. I googled hotlines and saw many that it felt overwhelming. I didn’t know where to start.

I finally found a behavioral treatment center and decided to go there. During the drive, I was just dead focused on my life and how the hell I got to this point. I pulled up, walked in, filled out a patient sheet, and moved on with the process. The place seemed a bit unorganized and a few of the employees felt a bit jaded, but I was already there so I wasn’t planning on turning back. Cameras were everywhere. There was no plastic bags in the trash cans for obvious reasons. I had to lock up my keys and wallet. Everything was…different. Controlled. Everything was locked, including the restroom doors. And when I had to use it, I had to leave the door cracked in case I tried anything crazy. While waiting to be called in this small weird little waiting area, I spoke to a young black boy who said he’s been here 16 times. 16 times?? He’s not even a teen yet, and he’s dealing with behavioral issues. It put my situation in perspective. I was continuously asking myself while in Nike slides and tube socks,

“Do I even belong here?” “This is wild.” “I have never ever been in a situation like this.”

But I was willing to follow through.

I spoke to a lady that seemed like a behavioral specialist in what seemed like an interrogation room. There was a big code blue button on the wall and another camera; in case I decide to go crazy and drop kick her or something. She was actually really nice and we had a long conversation about my triggers and life backstory, but being interested in mental health and studying psychology in college, I was already hip to most of the tactics and processes she was using. I was honest about my situations, but I made it to make sure I wasn’t marked as some emergency patient or anything.

“No, I never attempted or thought of killing myself.”

This was partly true. I’ve never attempted suicide, but I’ve had thoughts and urges plenty of times. Even at that moment I had the breakdown I had thoughts, but I would never do it because I know too many people that would be devastated if I did.

Moving forward, me and her danced with the thought of being admitted in and staying for up to three weeks and receiving treatment. I was being hard about staying, but I think deep inside I wanted to receive that treatment. Fear is what stopped me. Fear of losing my job. Fear of a new and weird journey. Fear of the true acceptance of my mental incapacity. Fear of the reactions of my family and friends. I was sent home after I promised to not hurt myself or anyone else.

I’m sharing this story for anyone that would like to get an inside look of this process in case they were considering going or suggesting someone else to go. I still might go, but we shall see. I’m always free to discuss.

Beat the ‘Beetus

About a month ago, I was diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes. All the days of mac n’ cheese and nachos finally caught up with me. Cheese was my stress food and fast food was my vice. I was working out an average of  2-3 days a week, but my eating habits was and still is kind of a disaster. I opted for convenience and not health. My body has finally had enough.

Carpal tunnel, in and out blurry vision, weakness, and low energy was all the signs I took for granted.

Feeling discouraged, but not defeated, I had to pick myself back up and work harder for my health and life. Luckily, it can be prevented with healthier eating and more exercise. I have to workout more of course, but the biggest change that must be done is my eating habits. More veggies and leafy greens, less fried foods and carbs.

Luckily, it can be prevented with healthier eating and more exercise. I’ve been slowly improving my health since then by making more active transportation decisions, incorporating salads and greens into my life a bit more, and making exercise a daily priority, but it’s still very hard to break bad habits. I still crave fast food, pizza, nachos, mac ‘n cheese, ice cream, and more. Sometimes I need a little encouragement.

That’s why I created this graphic T-Shirt and more below for people who may be struggling and for those who want to support their loved ones or in general in beating something that is effecting more people than we care to admit. My journey has just begun, but it will be a journey to complete, and I hope the same for everyone that can relate. I’m going to Beat The ‘Beetus!

Click here for Beat the ‘Beetus Gear

Do I offend?

What’s that smell? Do I offend?

Does my presence hurt your senses?

Sorry for not being clean, I just can’t seem to find the right soap.

I keep trying different kinds that’s recommended from many friends, family, and professionals, but nothing seems to be working. I can’t shake it off.

I used to think others carried that stench around me, but maybe it comes from me.

Maybe I’m the one turning up noses and causing people to leave.

But who’s to blame? Who takes the responsibility? I’m just saying.

Maybe I’m not clean because people used to not appreciate my cleanliness.

Maybe I’m not clean because people will manipulate me if I am.

Maybe I’m not clean because I choose not to.

This may be self-created and I hate it, but I just don’t know how to change it.

I’m working on it. So sorry if I offend.

Will you accept my toxic scent until I get clean? Or will you leave in disgust?

Your choice.


Wherever The Wind Blows

Sometimes I’ve wished to have a simpler mind.

The kind that only creates one route with a sign.

So many paths I want to take and people I want to be.

Ambition is the mission, and vision is still the key.

But I can’t see the way, when I don’t know it.

I need guidance, someone to show it.

I have the drive, I just need a map.

So many road blocks and turnarounds, oil changes and flats.

But I refuse to stop, I have a couple plans.

Let the wind show the way like a helping hand.

I’ll keep walking and have faith in the flow.

Trust in the wind, I’ll go wherever it goes.



Nearly There

I admit, I’ve been slipping on my self-care.

Do I dare to live a life that doesn’t compare to a traveler nearly there?

Is life particularly fair if your head’s stuck in the air?

Got to wake up from this hell and get out of this nightmare.

Maybe I should use the pair of my hands to ask for blessings.

Maybe I should go to the wise for life lessons.

Maybe I could just pick up a pen and start expressing my fears, failures, depression, I’m sick of blindly guessing.

Whatever works, I just need me a sign, I’m totally blind, give a me guide to walk behind.

So I don’t fall in a trap, this deadly path, has me nervous, drinking bourbon, and trying to be of a service,

to the people that look to me. Finally I see.

A role model is whoever that they want to be.

My fulfillment’s not in money, its impact.

But first I’m pushing through the dark, and I mean that.

Mental health in an unforgiving world. (Journal)

I am seething with hate right now. It seems like road blocks are consistent in my path of growth. So I’m free-writing right now. Your eyes are my journal.

I was diagnosed with clinical depression and social anxiety in 2018, around the same time I was attending Sam Houston State University for a Masters in Higher Education Administration.

I always felt like I had depression since high school, but the fact that it was set in stone was almost devastating for me. It was like a fresh start of crippling depression and I did not know how to fully handle it.

Because of this, I started to slip away in my performances of life: family duties, work duties, but especially school duties. If you have ever gone to a graduate program, you would know that generally you cannot make C’s and you only get so many chances before you are terminated from the program. Since I was diagnosed, I found myself struggling with professors and feeling the purpose of most work. Long story short, I was terminated for the program for too many C’s caused by things I will not discuss.

I will take part blame, but also, my recent diagnosis made a huge impact and I just felt like the program and the professors did not take that well into hand. I was accepted into the disability program on campus, which helped, but it could not stop the crushing blow of failure to crack my ribs. I appealed three times in a desperate attempt to remain in the program. My last appeal with in a room full of professors and administrators of a culture that knew nothing about mine and I felt every bit of that.

I’m now having issues in every way of enhancing my career in education, and it sucks because every time I try to breath above water, life tends to push my head back in. I’m drowning.

Just thinking about that, all of  the years of trying to find myself and my happiness, my worldview, and the way I see how people are treated and treat each other, it only enhances my anxiety. Not being able to shake the feeling of loneliness. Not being able go to a store without headphones or avoiding people at all costs. Going back home prematurely after leaving because I can’t deal with people at the moment.

I don’t want to leave my home. I don’t want to meet people. I don’t want anything to do with this society.

I am seething with hate, and drowning in hopelessness. I remain positive, but how many times will I have a palm on chest before I start breaking wrists? I have people that look up to me. I have people I look up to. I need to be strong for them. I need to be strong for myself. But damn.

Giving up is not an option. I’ve tried many times before and it never works. My drive precedes all doubt. But how can I operate in this cold world with this diagnosis? Self-Care? Meditation? Drugs? Therapy? Music? Jesus?

It’s a constant fight between light and dark in my head. I just want peace and happiness to come from the outside world, because every time I leave my home it feels like I’m walking into a jungle. Journal over. If you’ve felt the way I have, let’s talk.

An Agnostics’ Prayer

I come to you, battered and helpless.

My demons have overstayed their welcome.

Society and personal afflictions have kept me from you.

Nothing on this beautiful earth truly helps to the extent of true peace, so I must look beyond.

I lay in a dark and quiet room, alone, desperately looking for a way out of the mist of despair I once gladly walked into.

I went to escape the realities of this world, but I’ve seemed to become lost.

I’ve tried to find my way by myself for too long.

I need your help, your guidance, for how can I guide others when I am lost myself?

I’m still your soldier, I just went rogue.

Show me the way, and I will forever be grateful.