My Village

It Has Been a Rough Number of Months

One thing I can say is that I have never had to handle all of the things that I have been through alone. I have spoken before of my village and I love them for all the things that they do. Their support comes in many forms. Sometimes just asking me how I’m doing is helpful.

Sometimes a pep talk about how I should be proud of myself for how I handled a situation is good. Helping me set small goals so that I don’t feel like a complete failure is another way they help.

I’ve had people that have never met me or my child send money to help me out. People have spoken to me about how I matter to this world and to those that know and love me. People have praised me for being transparent and trying to help others that might be going through what I’ve been going through or just trying to extinguish the stigma regarding mental illness among POC.

Here’s a Brief Story

Two months after I got out of the psych ward and was still feeling pretty down, my sister had a party and her friend, Gloria, was there. We were sitting and talking as I knew she knew about my visit to the psych ward. I was talking about how I don’t feel and didn’t feel that my daughter needed me or would care if I died.

I was so unhappy that I cried all the way to my sister’s house because my daughter was still just not helping my mental state (not her responsibility, I know) and I was feeling extremely low.

When I made the statement about not being needed here and how my daughter wouldn’t care, Gloria started crying. She talked about how she missed her mother every day and that I mean more to this world than just being a mom to a child. She talked about the day she met me and how our little conversations on Facebook would make her smile. She said that I had so much more to give to this world and she wished that I recognized that.

Now, mind you, I have been face to face with her a few times but I didn’t think that our brief interactions had that much of an impact on her life. She really gave me something to think about and I did.

Facebook Friends

I have friends that I have never met as stated before. They read my blogs and offer words of encouragement as well as resources. Some work with kids with special needs or have kids with special needs themselves.

They don’t judge, they let me vent. That’s helpful. Many of them have been where I am now or are going through it as well.

I have known these people (mostly women) for as long as my daughter has been alive and some longer than she has been alive so they know the journey we have been through. It’s helpful to be able to talk and be heard unlike that dang on Special Needs group I was in that told me I was wrong because I referred to my daughter as a “broad” or something that definitely wasn’t a cuss word because I don’t call my child cuss words but I already talked about those people. I don’t need anyone to agree with me but, if I’m there to vent among people that are going through some of the same things I’m going through, let me vent.


You would be surprised how your coworkers can support you. My job has message boards for every topic and one is depression, resiliency, and mental health (I work in the healthcare field). We talk about things and one of the people in the group reached out to me via email and wanted to have a talk with me because he lost his son to suicide.

We talked about the mindset and the things that he thought he did wrong. I had to let him know that sometimes there are no signs. I know people that have completed suicide that seemed okay. And that’s because we put on a show. We put on a show so that people that care about us won’t worry.

And since we’re speaking of coworkers, don’t forget the two snitches. You know the snitches that had the police come to my door because I didn’t sound right via messenger. LOL It’s not like they weren’t right (see Tales from the Psych Ward (Part One). They still snitches though.

These women are going through their own struggles, one of which lost both of her parents in less than a year, and the other that’s just trying to live her life with her nutty cats. And they are going through a lot more to the point that sometimes I feel I need to shut up. But they tell me not to.

I fight so hard to be that person that people can vent to that I feel like I have lost that ability in their eyes. They know I’m dealing with a lot of things but I don’t ever want them to think that they can’t still talk to me.

Helping others really gives me purpose. It makes me feel needed. It gives me a reason to use my raggedy BS in Psychology. I feel like I kind of lost some points in strength with my friends. They know I’m a strong person and what I’m going through and I think they don’t want to add things for me to worry about.


I think they’re still trying to figure this mess out. When my daughter and I had the altercation that time, my oldest sister was going to come and get her off the bus but I had told my mother about what happened and she came and got her.

I took off all last week and really did nothing. I think I could say I deserved that much. I don’t usually do things for myself and feel that I should devote my funds to my child and bills as that’s my job as a mother. I begrudgingly decided to do what my friends had been telling me to do; get my hair done. Usually, if I spend money on hair, it’s to get my daughter’s hair done. Of course, one of my sisters decided to CashApp me money to get my hair done (which caused a crying fit). Once I took a pic of my hair and put it on Facebook, everyone was happy that I finally had done something for myself.

They told me that I would feel better if I did something for myself. I do feel better. And, for that, I thank my village. We’re all out here struggling and sometimes we need someone to offer encouraging words, check on us, show they care, even give mean people like me a hug. Those things don’t go unnoticed and they help more than any of you can understand.


How could I forget those angels? They look out. The ones to the right of me are SpED teachers and they are very supportive.

There is a lady downstairs that loves my dog, Gary. When I had to fight my daughter, she came out, went back in the house to put clothes on, and came out to help.

Today she gave me some things to add to my daughter’s reward drawer when she has a good week of getting up and ready for school. She is very supportive. She even brought me wine one day. Gave me her number and told me to call her when I needed her. Same for the neighbors next door.

They all said “We have to take care of one another” and it’s true. Oh, another neighbor walked my dog for me while I was in the psych ward. She even gave me a discount because she knew it was an emergency. People care and that’s good to know.

I’m going to end it here before I start crying and stuff.

Thanks for reading and going on this journey with me. Thanks to my meds, therapists, friends, family, coworkers, and strangers, the journey will continue.

Published by tallgirl79

Blogging about life. Well, my life. As a black, bipolar, mom to a teenager with special needs, well, there is always a story to tell. From my aversion to having a man to my weird experiences while trying to avoid people, it's all there. Being me is.... different but it always makes for good blogs.

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