My Truth

Unapologetically sharing MY TRUTHS, with the hopes of showing someONE they are not alone...

[carmeninguanzo]

I don't yet know why I chose to share something so, so personal, and to be honest, I hate it. But I felt in my heart someone needed to hear this. Especially, because it's not something spoken about at all.

This is for all of YOU who suffer in silence because you feel ashamed, crazy, broken, negative, like a Debby downer, unseen, unheard, or ignored. I promise you, you are not alone ;(

As some of you may know, I've been in a really deep bout of depression and I have been sharing about this lately. Not only here on social media, but with some of my family and friends. I've shared that I am currently trying a new medication as much as I hate the side effects antidepressants have on me, most notably on my hair. I've shared how hopeless, overwhelming, debilitating, and severely heavy this disease is - too much to carry alone...

I've decided to elaborate on what I've been dealing with, as ashamed as I am to share this. The shame itself is part of this intensely, painful, disease. As many of you know, I lost my best friend, my Rozer, to suicide in 2016. And while he was very vocal about it, I could never, ever, help but think about the countless we've heard about in the media that after taking their own lives the families and friends insisted they had NO IDEA they were feeling suicidal. And to think that we only really hear about the celebrities who take their own lives, imagine how MANY more we don't hear about... I also often think about what would drive someone who had it all: money, career, health, family, etc, and all the resources possibly imagined, just end it. I could never help but wonder what causes them to snap and to make such an irreversible and impactful decision. I could never help but wonder why couldn't they call someone they trusted, or the suicide prevention hotline, or 911, instead. I could never help but wonder why are they unable to think about the pain and trauma they will cause their loved ones - the widowed, the children, the parents, the siblings, the families, the friends, etc. I could never help but wonder why can't they realize that life is short and precious, and for many of us, such a gift, and even a privilege. I could never help but wonder why couldn't they realize their life mattered, and that there was a purpose for their existence. And most of all, that there IS a better way. I've cried for each and every one of them, whether I knew them or not. I've cried because I can relate SO MUCH to the unbearable pain this disease can cause, and to an extent, I can so palpably understand...

These days I've been so depressed and have been suffering from so much anxiety that for the first time I have felt scared for myself. Scared because over and over I have told myself I can no longer live this way. Scared because I have felt I rather be dead than continue to feel this way. Scared because I know how much Evan, especially, who cannot care for himself, needs me. Scared because my husband's pain would be unbearable, but yet he'd have to go on and take care of our Evan alone even though years ago we vowed to grow old together and be around for as long as possible to care for and love our son the way only we, his parents, can. Scared for my other children who also love me, my brothers, and my mom who would probably die of a broken heart. Scared for the others, who I know love me in a special way.

All of this to say, that in the midst of tears, unbearable pain, and so much fear for my life, I told my husband that if I did not get better soon, it would be best I admitted myself to a mental hospital. I thank God that despite the stigma, the shame, and countless other things I will share in another post, I've learned to be very vocal about what's happening to me. And because I am extremely transparent with my amazing therapist, she recommended we complete a "Safety Plan." It's something I had never done or even heard of, which is why I have decided to share something so personal. For those of you who have never heard of this either, a safety plan consists of:

Step 1: Warning signs (thoughts, images, mood, situation, behavior) that a crisis may be developing.

Step 2: Internal coping strategies - Things I can do to take my mind off my problems without contacting another person (relaxation technique, physical activity).

Step 3: People and social settings that provide distraction.

Step 4: People whom I can ask for help.

Step 5: Professionals or agencies I can contact during a crisis.

Step 6: Making the environment safe.

Step 7: Write down the one thing that is most important and worth living for.

PLEASE, if you, or anyone you know or can notice is going through something similar, share this information with them. This is not something to be ignored, brushed away, put aside because you have bigger or more important things going on in your life. Depression is real. Depression is ALSO a disease. Mental health diseases are just as grave, if not worse than some diseases. You have NO IDEA how many people suffer in silence and how many people that do mention in small talk that they are feeling sad or lonely wish someone would truly take notice, truly listen with an open heart and without making the conversation about themselves or of insignificant chatter for whatever the reason. I've seen it all, I've experienced it all, and it is heartbreaking. Especially, when it's coming from those you thought were really in tune with your soul, or those who say they love you, but their actions don't really show it. With depression especially, these emotions are amplified when all you are trying to do is grasp for your life, or are just simply longing to be seen and heard. TRULY SEEN AND HEARD.

[carmeninguanzo]

Prayers for Sammy...

She was a single mother to her only child, and every morning via zoom I watched as she cradled her boy during the morning routines, as she tried to keep up with her boy during gym classes. I had never met her since this entire school year has been virtual. But I’ve heard the story about her untimely death this past Wednesday due to fucking Covid. I’ve cried for her. I’ve cried for her boy these last couple of days and nights. 

You see, Sammy is an only child. He’s twelve-years-old, just like my boy. He’s nonverbal and on the higher side of the autism spectrum, just like my boy. How will he be able to understand that he can’t see his mommy ever again - at least not in this lifetime. How can he survive this? I cannot help but wonder... I’ve heard his father is also a much older ill man who lives in Africa, and whose beliefs were different when it came to raising a child with autism. And so his mother had no one, except an elderly sister who has decided she cannot watch him and will put him in a group home if his father doesn’t come for him. Who will give him comfort, love, and support when he needs it most? Who will walk with him through the life challenges he will inevitably face? Will he ever recover from this trauma? How could this have happened? I’m having a difficult time trying to make sense of this because that woman deserved to live for her son. Until Covid, she had lived a healthy life, I've been told. That boy deserved to have his mommy here with him still today! How could I not be sad about this? How could you not be sad after hearing such devastating news?

As parents, our hearts ache at the thought of something happening to us and leaving our children. However, many of us with typically developed children know that eventually, they’ll be okay. Eventually, they’ll be able to care for themselves and go on with their lives. But as a parent to a child with special needs that cannot yet take care of himself, and perhaps never will, THIS hits differently. This is a fear my husband and I live with daily. And although our faith in God is huge, this is our reality. 

And so when I think about what Sammy’s mother went through as she felt her life slipping away, wondering if her son would be okay - my heart breaks. Last night, as I massaged Evan’s body, as I do every night after his warm bath. As I cuddled him in his bed and read him bedtime stories, I prayed for him. I couldn’t help but wonder what nighttime routines Sammy would be forever missing with his mommy. Tears and snot covered my cheeks, my mouth, and my pillow. I will forever keep Ms. Sharon in my heart and prayers. Praying that wherever she is, she can one day find peace. In the meantime, I will continue to try and find out about his whereabouts and figure out in what small way I can make a difference in his life. In the meantime, PLEASE keep this little angel in your prayers too. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, let's ALL pray that his daddy, who arrives today to sign papers, will instead decide to take him. I pray he realizes what an angel his son truly is, and how much he needs him now more than ever. I pray they find comfort in each other.

My Evan had been sad too, and every now and then, we’d find him tearing. I wonder if he knows what’s going on and if he’s feeling his buddy’s pain...

[carmeninguanzo]

My Co-vid Reality...  (Written some time in April 2020)

I have been unable to write with the exception of a few posts for autism awareness. My heart is constantly aching for our suffering world. And any time I dare complain about anything, I look above and thank God for the countless blessings my family and I can rejoice over. We are all healthy! Evan and I do not go out, and only have we left the house on three separate occasions for car rides and fresh air. We went to the beach boardwalk one of those three days and I can’t say it was relaxing, although that was the reason for going there. However, it was, for Evan! Which is what really mattered, considering he is obsessed with water. Our little fish angel.

There were not many people for Orchard beach on a Friday afternoon, but I panicked if anyone came too close to us. Not that they were, but 20-30 feet away on a few occasions was enough to nervously bring my child closer to me. I judged, and judged, and judged, as I do every single time I’ve stepped outside my home. Why is that person not wearing a mask, and why are those people so close together, and OMG, do these group of kids not know this disease is killing people! Why are they hanging out like this isn’t happening! And without a masks all on top of each other! This is how they’ll bring it home to their parents, or their grandparents, or their siblings, aunts or uncles! God, please bless them because none of them know any better.  

I’ll never forget the first time I left my house. I had been home for almost three weeks and went out to McDonald’s to buy my dear friend dinner due to her being stuck at home with Co-vid. I wore my mask and gloves. Stepping out of my home this evening, there was a cool breeze, a breeze that to me, felt infected with the virus. What is going on? My heart is pounding. My stomach feels tight. Why do I feel this way? Even after sitting in my car I felt unsafe. Did Ray wipe everything down in here? The car had just been serviced two days ago. I didn’t dare crack the windows. The streets were deserted. The night felt somber... 

There are three cars in front of me at the McDonald’s drive-thru. I observe if the person in the car in front of me is wearing gloves and a mask before putting down their window to place their order. They are. That’s a smart person, I said to myself. I’m next. I get ready to place my order, but first need to look around to make sure there’s no one outside of my car asking for money (as I’ve often encountered). There’s no one and I’m thankful for that tonight. Not only would it break my heart, but under these circumstances I won’t be able to put down my window and offer them money, as I always do. I could if I wanted to, but I’m petrified. And I don’t want my heart to ache any more, as it does every time I see a homeless person. I place my order and move up. When I approach the window to pick up my food, the servers have NO gloves and NO masks!!!! What in the world are these people thinking! They’re right next to each other! I say a prayer again. 

I take off my gloves and look through my purse for my wallet because I don’t want to spread the virus that I’m convinced is in my gloves, to my belongings. I take out my debit card and put my gloves back on as the server is now impatiently waiting for me. I give him my debit card and he gives me an attitude. I don’t take it personal because I know the fear is real. I know we are all swimming in uncertainty. But why aren’t ya’ll wearing a mask though, while ya’ll serving our food! I want to tell him, but I don’t. This is just not the time. There’s now a car backing up towards me, and then pulls over to the right of me. He’s trying to get my attention and I fearfully, finally put my window down. 

“Sorry to bother you,” he tells me. “But would you please give this back to him and tell him I asked for a girl toy with the happy meal, not a boy one?” Reluctantly, I take the toy and give it to the server and explain. The guy then comes out of the car and grabs the toy. He must’ve seen the fear through my mask. Omg, the server has no gloves and this entire transaction just went down without him being protected. How could this be! I hope he washes that toy before taking the virus home to his child. I couldn’t help but pray...

I drive to my friend’s house who is only like five minutes away. I’m super panicking by now because I now have to get out of my car and into a building. Hold the handrail of the building door, buzz for her to let me in, and walk to the elevator. VIRUS! The elevator is there. I open the door and place the bag directly in front of the elevator for her to receive it upstairs. I’m suffocating by now and realize I’m holding my breath. It’s ok Carmen, you can breathe. You’re wearing an N95 masks, but I’m still freaking out and just want to run out of the building fast before someone walks in and I’m forced to be in close contact with them. I rush into my car, take off my gloves, throw them in a bag, and then obsessively sanitize my hands. I grab the steering wheel and freak out because I forgot to put on a fresh clean pair, corona free, gloves. I sanitize my hands again and put on the gloves. I start to drive away, but my phone rings. I pull over, take off my gloves and grab my phone to answer the call. It’s my friend thanking me for the food. I sanitize my hands and put on my gloves again. I drive home, never having felt this eager to get back. My safe, clean, sanitized, place. I take off one glove to grab my stuff from the car because I don’t want to transmit the corona to my stuff and then take it home! I’m confused again with grabbing my keys, my phone, and my wallet. I don’t know what the heck I touched with the ungloved hands. I go into my home and take everything off by the door, go to the bathroom and scrub myself down. I get some Clorox wipes and disinfect my phone, my keys, my wallet, my debit card, the door knob and anxiously wonder, what have I forgotten to clean? I put on my gloves again and take the McDonalds bag to the table, taking everything out before washing my hands again and daring to eat. I tell my husband, who has been home, to wash his hands because he touched the bag and wrappers. I explain how nerve wrecking the past 30 minutes have been, and he stares at me. “I don’t ever want to go out there again. It was too nerve-wrecking. How the hell do you do this almost every day when you go to work and to the supermarket to shop for us, your parents, my mother, your grandkids because you don’t want none of them to be exposed! But what about you my beloved and angelic husband? You are asthmatic. Who’s going to protect you?” 

[carmeninguanzo]

My prayers, my thoughts, my heart, and every inch of my soul is with my dear sister-friend today as she mourns the departure of her dearest & beloved daughter, Natalia. Her sunflower, her cherry blossom, the apple of her eyes...

I met Egli in one of Vanessa Martir’s, Writing Our Lives Workshop on Feb. 3rd, 2013. I didn’t yet know how much she would impact my life, or that she would become my soul sister. However, there was an instant connection between the two of us, a loving embrace - as if this moment had been waiting to happen, as if we were sisters in a past life. This was solidified the day I was running late to class (we hadn’t exchanged numbers yet) and received a text from Vanessa: “Are you almost here Carmen, Egli is waiting to sit next to you, and she won’t share her piece until you get here.” This warmed my heart. I didn’t know she needed me, as much as I needed her. “I’m almost there,” I replied.

I offered her a ride home from Hunter College to her Harlem condo every Sunday after class. Although at times she resisted, worried she was taking me out of my way, I insisted she wasn’t. We’d talk about our personal lives, our stories and the journeys that brought us to this class, demanding to be written. She’d compliment my writing with such conviction, I wondered if she knew they were falling on deaf ears because I couldn’t yet see in myself, what she saw in me. “Carmen, you’re such an inspiration to me and you make me feel like I can do this too. You have such a gift. Please write.” This compliment coming from someone with a PhD and who I deeply admire because of her strength, resilience and determination. With someone like Egli, who came from such humble beginnings in Santiago, I was in awe of all she had already accomplished. Nonetheless, it was me she became invested in, “You are a diamond in the ruff, my dear.” With all of her guidance and dedication, she was relentless in showing me what I was truly capable of.

We’ve remained close for all these years and our friendship grew into one of sisterhood. She’s picked me up more times than I can count. When my depression was at its worse and I felt defeated, she took me by the hand to numerous holistic doctors from China town all the way up to Queens - determined I was going to beat this disease. She was who first educated me and convinced me to see a psychiatrist, when nothing else was working. She changed my life. She gave me hope. She insisted I had too much to offer to allow this disease to strip me of my light: “You are more than this disease, Negra. If you need to go on meds, do it. It doesn’t have to be permanent, and all it will do is stabilize your moods. You come off them when you feel stronger. I promise.”  

When in 2015 Egli asked me to be her “partera” or “word surgeon,” as she calls me, she was ready to edit her first manuscript, now a book you can find on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and more. A soon to be bestseller, “Unbroken: A Mother-Daughter Journey of Resilience, Faith and Courage.” For months we gathered at her place, feeding both myself and Jose​, our dear friend and editor, as if we were her children. She embraced us, she loved on us, and entrusted us with this book she was finally ready to birth. At times, she’d resist, getting into other things. Her fear was palpable. “Ok Negra, a lo que vinimos,” I’d insist. Let’s focus. We’d sit down in the comfort of her cozy living room and listen to her read out loud, her voice trembling, her heart racing. “It’s ok baby, we got you,” we’d assure her. “You are safe with us.” On several occasions, we couldn’t meet. Writing about Natalia’s battle with cancer meant going down memory lane and fleshing out a time in her life, she did not wish to relive. But Natalia had already beat cancer once before! She had been living life to the fullest, determined to fulfill each and every one of her dreams.  

And so when I received Egli’s text yesterday, I was in complete denial. I rejected her words. I threw my phone to the side and tried to get ready for my son’s Zoom therapy, convinced this was not true. I had SO much faith that Natalia would be healed by the grace of God, that I just couldn’t accept it. I fought this feeling for an hour, until I was overcome by overwhelming emotions and gathered the courage to call her. I wanted to help carry my Negra’s pain, her grief, the weight of her shattered soul. That text, forever etched on my mind... “I lost my Natalia negra! 💔”

To know Natalia, was to love her. It was to live life vicariously through her eyes, fearlessly and unapologetically. Because her light was so bright, she’d light up every room she entered. She was not only passionate about living her life with purpose, but to also bring hope to all who crossed her path. She dreamed of changing the world and of empowering others to always stay positive no matter what life throws your way. As her dear mommy best describes her: “Cancer didn’t have the last word, she’s a princess warrior that lived live intensely - with purpose, passion, boldness, intention, determination, gratitude, love and pure joy. She won!” In her almost 25 years of life here on Earth, Natalia accomplished more than many will accomplish in their entire lives. A true warrior who never accepted her diagnosis, who at only 12 years old stared cancer in the face with courage and an unrelenting determination to live her dreams, and who after each surgery, climbed into her heals during physical therapy and walked the runway she had envisioned for herself WITH a prosthesis. And that she did! Natalia was signed to STATE Management modeling, was a body positive image activist who was never ashamed to show the many scars on her body, walked for a multitude of well-known designers during NY Fashion week, has been featured in numerous magazines including Women’s Health, Cosmopolitan, and her latest solo cover on Vogue magazine. Was featured on Bravo’s Project Runway, season 17, as well as on a Time Square billboard by Foot Locker. She’s been featured in commercials, music videos, and was one of the faces for Delta Airlines and more! And more than all of her accomplishments, her faith in God is what she most embodied. So YES, she did win 👑 🙌🏽 !

Natalia and Egli shared a mother-daughter bond like none I’ve ever seen. They were each other’s best friend, each other’s number one supporter. They traveled the world together, danced together, cried together, encouraged each other, grew together, shared in each and every moment of their lives together, lived their dreams together, and pushed each other to become all God created them to be. The love they shared for each other was tangible, extraordinary, and beautiful to witness. Egli walked every single step of Natalia’s life by her side. She shaved her head in solidarity with her baby girl when she began to lose her hair during chemo. Their love is simply put, ONE of a kind. Natalia passed on Wednesday at 3:49pm in the comfort of her self-created oasis in the arms of her mommy and in the presence of her loved ones ;(

My tears will form a river for you, my dearest Egli, so that you know you’re not alone y porque te adoro, Negra! Natalia’s light will be sorely missed by so many, but her legacy will live on for eternity! May you forever be in the loving embrace of our dear Lord, Nat, and may the angels be as marveled by your presence as we were here on Earth... Paradise awaits you, and the heaven catwalk is waiting for you, baby girl!

Natalia Harris July 18, 1996 - May 6, 2020

PLEASE KEEP EGLI AND HER ENTIRE FAMILY IN YOUR PRAYERS 🙏🏽

[carmeninguanzo]

What if we told others what’s really going on in our lives, rather than ignoring calls and texts sometimes?

So here it is… I am currently in probably one of the most stressful and scariest seasons of my life. However, it’s easy to forget I am human. I feel overwhelmed, broken, fearful, confused, abandoned, unvalidated, lost, disconnected, sad, anxious, and the list goes on - for way too many reasons to list. I don’t want to have to hide. I don’t want to have to fake that I’m doing okay, as I often do. I just want my loved ones to know that I fall apart sometimes and that I’m not always as strong as I may look. And that just like a clown in a circus act, I’m juggling too much at once, so please, bear with me...

I am simultaneously dealing with a debilitating undiagnosed sinus condition (many specialists and testing later) for the past 3 years now (and it’s only getting worse), while dealing with a bunch of personal insecurities about myself (perhaps a midlife crisis), while trying to learn how to plan my dad’s end of life care, while also wrestling with the idea of meeting my biological father whom I just recently found via Ancestry.com and who’s known I’ve existed (long story!), while also trying to figure out what to do about Evan’s medical insurance, which unfortunately, is not covering the therapy service he needs most (something that completely breaks my heart and makes me feel so helpless), while also honoring my commitment to my educational studies and my writing craft. And oh, yeah, did I mention life must go on and Evan still needs to be cared for and taken to his therapies and extracurricular activities? Thank you to my husband for carrying this most important responsibility with me!

If all of this isn’t enough, I have recently fallen into a deep bout of depression due to the unaddressed emotions that have surfaced. With the exception of losing my best friend to suicide, I’ve never dealt with having to make decisions over someone else’s life as they’re dying, or with how to plan a funeral. This is especially nerve wrecking because I am THE only person to make these decisions without the support of other family members. Thank you again to my husband who is helping me through this. In the midst of all this, I’ve been also dealing with a rough patch in my marriage. And did I mention I realize I need to once again find a therapist to help me understand all of this? And that my anxiety is up the roof and I may need to consider meds again? It’s one thing after the other, and each time I feel like God has abandoned me, I HAVE to seek comfort in this Bible verse to keep my sanity: “I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” John 16:33 🙏🏽

I share all of these personal things with you not for pity, PLEASE not that, but because I want someone to know that they are NOT alone in their struggles. Throughout the years I’ve learned that it’s okay to not be okay, but most importantly, it’s okay to admit when I’m not okay. It doesn’t make me less than, it simply makes me human and vulnerable. And this… Is exactly what the world needs more of today. If you don’t mind, send a prayer my way. And if you can, take a look at those around you and see if they’re doing okay ♥️

[poetsandwriters]

I’ve been terrible at everything I’ve ever wanted to be good at—dating, tying my shoelaces, athletics, writing, driving, math, drawing, fashion, parenting—the first time I tried it. But years ago, my father, who’s a musician and public-school teacher, told me about how much better his music had gotten when he’d just made it a point to commit to doing it—with focus and intention—on a daily basis. Even when it’s terrible. Especially when it’s terrible. Intentional, focused practice: that’s it. Maybe some people are phenomenal enough to not need it, but for me there’s no shortcut. Not for anything.

Kawai Strong Washburn, in this week’s Ten Questions; read the rest at pw.org! (via poetsandwriters)

[carmeninguanzo]

What if we spoke about the guilt we carry when we don’t give all of ourselves to our children?

What if I admitted I do not want to give ALL of myself to my son? Will that make me a bad mother?

Almost 10 yrs ago next month, I made the best decision of my life when I quit my job and became a full-time mommy to Evan upon his autism diagnosis. Though I had no idea of the challenges we’d face, I knew the only way I’d survive was if I held my boy’s hand every step of the way. I do not regret a single day of it, however, I did not realize that making this decision would completely put MY life on the back burner. It’s been heartbreaking in many ways because it also meant that my dreams and aspirations would have to take a backseat. I had no idea how much time and energy it would take to fight for his services and to literally have to become his advocate. I had no idea these services would not be automatically provided because of his diagnosis, and that our healthcare system would fail him. I had no idea what a large mountain we would have to climb and that losing pieces of myself during the climb was the only way I’d be able to carry him on my back.

It wasn’t until last year when I found the courage to confess what I had been feeling to my oldest son, Brandon. I finally confronted one of the major causes of the guilt I had been carrying. I had been too ashamed to even say it to my husband, especially knowing the sacrifices he’s had to make to provide for all of us, financially.

Talking to my Brandon has always been easy. We were having our usual intimate conversations. As always, he spoke to me about his life as I listened attentively and gave my son advice. On this particular day my guilt had been heavy, and when he asked, “mom, how are YOU doing?” I didn’t expect to release the load that came from this question. Unknowingly, I had been waiting for someone to validate what I had been feeling.

The tears flooded down my face like a broken dam. “I’m actually not doing well today. I am consistently torn between wanting to devote myself to my writing and pursue my dreams, and also knowing how much Evan needs me. He needs so much more services and it is all too consuming. I can’t help but think that maybe I shouldn’t be pursuing a degree in English Literature and Creative Writing. Maybe, what I should be pursuing is a degree in Applied Behavioral Analysis and become Evan’s therapist. He needs this so much and I can’t help but feel guilty for not doing this for him! Am I being selfish for not wanting that?”

It was the first time I had ever said this out loud, and instantly, I felt a weight lifted. And although this was liberating to admit, it is still my daily struggle. It feels right and necessary to dedicate so much of my time and efforts to help my son, but putting pen to paper is where I feel most fulfilled. An overwhelming sense of calm comes over me, and over and over my spirit tells me, THIS, is where you belong…

For years I have studied my craft, enrolled in countless writing workshops, attended many writing retreats, joined writing groups, etc, but this too, takes a lot of time and work. And when I start to feel the guilt and the need to pull away, once again, I let it go. And once again, I fall into despair when I am not doing my life’s work.  

I don’t know if this is a feeling that will ever go away - the tug of war between motherhood and the work I was put on this earth to do, but what I do know is that I am a human being first and I should not feel condemned for following my heart. I will continue to do my best with both roles and seek comfort from the One who created me and everything inside of me: “But when the Father sends the Advocate as my representative—that is, the Holy Spirit—he will teach you everything and will remind you of everything I have told you.” John 14:26

How do you deal with the guilt of not doing enough for your children? As human beings, we will always have these struggles.  

[carmeninguanzo]

How These Pics Say 1000 Words - Literally...

Yesterday was the first time Evan held his cousin’s hand, or any kid’s hand for that matter. And although I asked him to, he did it! I WAS ELATED :) Even though he only walked several feet with him hand in hand, to me, this was huge... He was connecting with another child! I wanted to record every second. I wanted this moment to last forever. And when I tried to record them running, I was too scared to do so because of how fast Evan ran and I feared Jamil would fall. As small as this may sound, I felt a joy I had yet to feel. Jamil, who is typically developed loves Evan and follows him everywhere he goes. As any 3-year-old boy, he seeks Evan’s attention and approval, though most times Evan ignores him: typical behavior for children on the autism spectrum. According to the Mayo Clinic, “Autism spectrum disorder is a condition related to brain development that impacts how a person perceives and socializes with others, causing problems in social interaction and communication.”

Despite the brief attention Evan gave Jamil in the waterpark, he tried his best to impress Evan and hold his attention. With so many kids Jamil’s age all around, he wanted to play with Evan; he insisted on breaking through to him. I stood there and marveled at this sight because Jamil doesn’t see awkwardness or rejection, he sees a big boy he loves and wants to play with. This is rarely the case for my Evan.

Why did this mean so much to me? At almost 11-years-old, Evan has never had a friend. I’m sure it’s not because he wants it that way, but because he doesn’t know how to socialize, other children lose interest in him quickly. With Evan’s 4 brothers being so much older than him, and all living outside of our home, he didn’t grow up in the same environment they did - where they had each other to play with at all times. And so naturally, I often wonder if he feels lonely, despite all the playing around that daddy does with him, and all the times we take him out to play and explore. I can’t help but think about all the friends I had at his age and of how much I needed companionship. At my age, I still need friends and oftentimes, feel lonely. Live About states the importance of friendship as “One of the most overlooked benefits of friendship is that it helps keep our minds and bodies strong. In fact, it’s as important to our physical health as eating well and keeping fit. A recent Harvard study concluded that having solid friendships in our life even helps promote brain health.” So how does Evan feel about not having any friends if he cannot express it? Yes, mommy and daddy will always be his friend, but what about a peer he can relate to? I can’t help but wonder...

[carmeninguanzo]

Who Knew Twitter Could Be Therapeutic?

In the past four weeks I’ve been severely struggling with a personal situation. I’ve been depressed and incredibly anxious as I felt as a child whenever there was something I wanted to express to my mother, but knew I couldn’t because of fear of getting the words slapped back in. This feeling is horrible! And although I’m usually one who speaks about the difficult subjects for the purpose of helping someone with a similar situation, I have decided to first go through the experience and the rollercoaster of emotions I have been flushing - learn the lesson this is going to teach me. It’s been by far, the most difficult time of my life and I had no idea that “tweeting” with purpose these last couple of days would be therapeutic. Not only because of what I’ve been able to share, but because of the things people share that I’ve been paying attention to and my interaction since creating my new Twitter account a few days ago. I had no idea that Twitter was meant to be interactive in all the years I had my old account for! Or maybe I just didn’t care much about it once I became involved in Instagram, especially since IG gives you the option of simultaneously sharing your posts on Twitter and Facebook (EXACTLY what I’ve been doing). I am now realizing that using my Twitter and Facebook account became irrelevant to me. Thanks to my New Media class, I’ve learned the importance of social media for writer’s, and how in reality, social media has the potential of becoming my biggest platform. In my class read, Create Your Writer Platform, Sambuchino states, “While it’s imperative that you engage in some kind of social media to build community and construct a platform, how you interact in these communities is entirely up to you” (pg. 155). This book and Social Media for Writers by Tee Morris & Pip Ballantine have been a huge eye opening resources for me! As I’ve read through these books, I have found myself having to take breaks from the literal reality slaps I’ve been receiving. In understanding I have been using Twitter inappropriately and without “purpose and intent” and simply talking, but not listening has been huge! “Twitter is a total waste of your time and anyone who follows you if you’re not following the three rules: Be useful, be personal, be interactive” (Sambuchino, pg. 157). I now hear you Sambuchino, I now hear you!

[carmeninguanzo]

Refusing to Let Depression Run/uin MY Life...

As some of you may know, this past Spring I spiraled into one of the deepest bouts of depressions I’ve ever known. It’s been brutal and consuming and so debilitating, to say the least. And if you suffer, or have ever suffered from depression, I’m sure you can relate. If you have never, please don’t judge and be mindful of those around you who are desperately clawing their way through life. This shit is no fucking joke! I lost my best friend to this shit, and if you’ve been paying attention, so many continue to take their own lives because unfortunately, they feel it’s their only option. I just recently wrote an essay that I’m praying gets published because we need to raise mental health and suicide awareness. I need to raise awareness. I don’t share my journey with mental illness because I’m proud or enjoy putting myself out there. And I sure as heck don’t share my journey for pity! I share my journey because it’s necessary in our world, because I feel this responsibility to do so. I share my journey because I personally, know so many who suffer in silence, afraid of what others may think or say about them. Well guess what?! Sharing this doesn’t make me weak, it makes me stronger. Sharing this makes me a fucking warrior because I don’t give a darn what you think or say about me, especially when I KNOW I can make a difference in someONE’s life as I already have just by sharing my story...

Today I woke up feeling defeated, yesterday was a good day, the day before was not. That’s just the way depression functions. And YES, I’m struggling, but I’m kicking and clawing at this disease because I’m just not giving up. And because that’s just what I do! I have dreams and aspirations and goals and a life purpose that I need to share with the world. And though on most days I wake up and listen to something positive and motivating as I did today, I still feel the power of this enemy clenching its fist on me, but I’m holding on to this quote I heard today, “The fruit of everything good in life begins with a challenge.” I am facing my challenges, rolling up my sleeves and throwing on my boxing gloves this day, and EVERYday because I will not allow depression to define me. In fact, depression does not define any of us! 

So on this day when I am feeling the weight of my depression and I don’t feel like doing anything, I am still going to write, still going to work on my school assignments, still going to read the books that have helped me get on my feet, still going to take my son to the park after school to enjoy the afternoon while we still have this beautiful fall weather, and still going to continue to make a difference in someone’s life... 

[carmeninguanzo]

My Biggest Break Through...

I woke up on the morning of April 25, 2018 with plans to go to the gym. I had a light breakfast, but it didn’t sit well. My stomach felt queasy and unsettled with cramps throughout the entire morning. Again and again I went to the bathroom. What’s going on? It was only toast and tea? I had all intentions of working out but, I knew I couldn't. I couldn’t figure out what was going on with my body, and after going to the bathroom a fourth time, I realized in that moment I was having a full blown anxiety attack that lasted almost the entire day! My heart was racing - ripping its way out of my chest, my stomach was in a knot - that unsettling intuition you feel when something bad is about to happen, and I was having difficulties breathing - as if someone had their hands over my nose and mouth. Oh my God, I’m having an anxiety attack! How could I have missed the signs? I was taken off guard, the way an anxiety attack usually happens, but I missed the signs because it had been a very long time since I felt this way. I’m going to fight through this. Taking an anxiety pill is not an option! It had been almost seven months since I last took an anxiety pill and I was determined to ride this feeling of unbalance and chaos on my own with prayer and meditation. Though I was intentional about what I was doing to self regulate my emotional and psychological state, it wasn't helping, however, I was completely drawn to the words of Sarah Blondin in her guided meditation. I was desperate to calm myself down and because I am a visual learner, I decided to write down the words - writing and pausing, writing and pausing; trying to take them all in.  

Why am I feeling so anxious? How did I get here? Throughout this debilitating episode, I was determined to figure out what caused my anxiety attack and finally, it all made sense. I had become lazy and had discontinued my morning rituals, and despite trying to teach myself not to be judgmental during this process of self-evolution and to love myself exactly where I am, it had been on my mind daily for the past three weeks. How I did I get here? How did I let go of all of the habits I had been cultivating so that I could live my best life? I was no longer getting up at 6:00 am. I was no longer meditating, reading and writing. I was no longer being intentional about my days and the things I was focused on mastering. I was no longer on my vegan diet; a diet I had incorporated because I wanted to see if it made a difference with my bad sinus, though I really hope I can remain vegan one day. I know in my heart I should be eating healthier? Should I become a vegetarian instead? Or perhaps I can’t do either and I should just call it conscious eating? I struggled wondering if I had made the right decision of going back to my old lifestyle. Or maybe I should be moderate instead of going cold turkey? This was obviously something that was consuming me and I couldn’t let it go. Also, I hadn’t been consistent with the things that have helped me with my depression and given me the strength and courage to ween myself off of my anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds. I had done all of this on my own with no medical consultation or supervision. I made the decision and I followed through. Period. What happened with all I’d been trying to cultivate in order to master my mornings and be more productive? I hadn’t continued to work on getting together everything I want to include on my new vision board. I hadn’t been reading as much. I hadn't been listening to the motivational videos and books I had been listening to every day. It was all of the things I’d stopped that will give me the necessary discipline and routine to live my dreams that was building up in my conscious and subconscious. It was no wonder I’d been feeling heavy and so down lately? Yes, I was feeling depressed! I had gone back to my old ways. I had gone back to ignoring my passions and what I knew was bringing me purpose and fulfillment. It was everything that had helped me feel complete. It was all of the exact things that caused me to remain depressed throughout my life. All of it. Inside of me. Manifesting into complete pandemonium. And there it was, I made the biggest discovery ever! The things that make me happy are all inside of me? I’ve been looking outside of myself for my happiness? I can’t slack off! I can’t go back to my old ways... 

This anxiety attack happened one week ago to be exact and since then, I’ve started my morning routines again and feel 100% better. What I learned from this experience is that it’s ok to slack off and not be so hard on myself. It’s ok to be where I am today because I can start over. I’m not perfect and I must remain grateful for the journey and embrace the lessons throughout the way. I am learning to be careful with the labels I put on myself; careful with the feelings of inadequacy I was so use to clinching on to, and I am understanding that it’s ok to still love myself during this process with all of my imperfections. So each time a negative thought comes to mind because I didn't do what I planned out to do, I simply say to myself, “it’s ok Carmen, you can start over tomorrow.” I am learning to love and appreciate myself even when I slack off. I’ve come such a long way and these are all lessons that will only make me a better version of myself. I must be gentle and embrace the process of evolution. My evolution. I am learning to focus on the good things I have going for myself instead of dwelling only on all the negative things. I remind myself of my accomplishments as big or small as they may be. It is important. Carmen, you have not given up on school no matter how difficult it’s becoming. This June makes three years since you enrolled back in college and you haven’t dropped out! You are still holding the above 3.7 gpa you said you would all throughout this time. You just finished writing your second piece to be published on Proud to Be Latina magazine. You have an essay being published in an upcoming anthology this year. You have a child with special needs whom you give so much love and attention to because his needs are nothing little or can be unattended to. You have a life and so much on your plate woman! 

You see how much easier it is to fall into old patterns and feel inadequate? You see the importance of learning self-care? You see the process? It takes SO much, and it can be so difficult at times, but it’s worth the discipline. It’s worth the struggle. I’m here to show you my journey. The good, the ugly, and the in between. With so much love and with zero judgments :) 

I’d like to share with you one of the most powerful words I’ve ever heard. Here is the guided meditation I said I wrote, Learning to Surrender by Sarah Blondin. I hope and pray this helps someone, the way it helped me... Here is the link from the Insight Timer app, http://insig.ht/gm_3393. Here are all the words:

The night comes, and we give ourselves permission to dissolve, into the rest of darkness. We let go of all the values and rivers we wish to cross, and our dreams for some distant future. We allow ourselves the gift of rest, returning to the calmness of our breaths. The silence of our minds, and the heavily dance with the night’s curious dreams. When we wake in the morning as our eyes open we slowly begin to step back into our minds voice. We dress ourselves, not just in clothing, but with all of the things we neatly placed at our bedside while we slept. We look outside our windows longingly for our place in the stars, not noticing we are the ones weighing ourselves down. Subconsciously we adorn ourselves in yesterdays news, and the rejuvenation we have earned from our sleep is quickly exchanged, for heavy and worn out ideas of what our lives couldlook like, if only we could somehow get to where we were going. We walk invisibly cocooned, with all of the things we wish to control. We think that by keeping these things close that, we will be able to manage them. If we keep our worries in plain sight, we will have less of a chance of them coming true. When in fact the very act of doing so is causing us to live in the places we are trying to avoid. Surrender means to give up, abandon, relinquish, to wave the white flag. What a beautifully divine word. A word we should choose at every chance we can remember, for as the story goes, we are not in control. We are floating on a cosmic river carried from the stars into our mother’s wombs, out into the world, where we then resume the same course only now grounded in body. If we continuously release our needs for controlling the flow, and stop ourselves from worrying about rocks we mayhit, we allow divine grace to enter our lives. The more we trust, the journey, itself, the more fluid and joyful life becomes. The more we constrict, the more worry and burden we pick up along the way, the denser we become. The more we sink like rocks to the bottom of our river, we then ground ourselves in the turbulent waters rather, than allowing ourselves to be carried to the calm, cool waters. Instead of feeling fear of all that may come bouncing forth from the unknown, feel intrigued, delighted even that something new is being born at every second. What we are trying so hard to avoid or hold in place, may in fact be our dreams, trying to come into form. There will be moments in your life where all will seem in chaos in disharmony, and in those moments you must remember the universe is, reordering in your life to match more of what you are calling forth. Wait not in fear while this happens, for it is a necessary part of the birthing process. Keep faith, trust. Work with continued heart intention, but let go when it asks, and take peace in the unfolding that will soon come. Fear, is useless in these times. Trust, however, is paramount. While we are co-creating with our life force, we are also, at its mercy, and must learn to trust, it is in our favor. This does not mean we stop trying to create our best life. It does not mean we give up in the face of adversity or stress it means, we simply let go of the hold it has on our physical body. We see what is coming forward and remain working with focused intention, yet release the stress and grip it has on us.    

Do this in meditation- Close your eyes and take three deep breathes. Release a little more dropping down closer and closer to the earth. Feel how it loves you, and you love it. Notice how good it feels to be in your skin, present to the life living within you.  

Notice any tension in your body, in your neck, in your lower back or your shoulders. Take the shallow breath in your chest and make it more full, and pleasure-full. These places of tension, is where you are holding a secret fear, that you are not supported, that you have been forgotten, that life does not love you, that you are failing. See how these fears, do not serve you. Let them go. Acknowledge that you are being weighed down and choose, even if just for this moment, to surrender. Take a moment to notice the peace trying to lovingly hold you. Now imagine cutting the ties to these tense places, and allow yourself to be carried into the mysterious and nourishing waters raging around you. You are being asked to surrender to the beauty trying to unfold, the beauty trying to bring you to that far off land of dreams you’ve been looking outside of yourself for. Understand that it has been trying to take you there all along. Now get out of your own way, and allow it to. And when you open your eyes in the morning, and you feel the rush of consciousness flood back into your body, sink not into the old, worn out ideas you have been holding. Let yourself be relieved, by the journey that is your life, unfolding. Rest, in knowing, that same peace you experience as you sleep is still with you when you wake. Surrender dear one. Surrender…

[carmeninguanzo]

Day 11, Eating Healthy for My Sinus...

Self-care is not for the faint of heart and I don’t say this to make you think you aren’t capable of embarking on your journey to find your true self, because I believe we all can. Heck, if I am able to do this, so can you! And I don’t say this lightly because I am someone who was ruled by depression my entire life! What I am saying is that it takes everything we’ve got to be consistent, stay motivated, be awake to the signs that will promote changes and cultivate those changes into our daily lives. We have to dig deep and fight against all those old feelings and habits that keep us from discovering our authentic self; we have to literally go to war with ourselves. That authentic self we all have within us but was once silenced by all those who took part in raising us and whose limiting values and beliefs were instilled in us. That authentic self that we have hidden because we want to fit into society and be loved by others before we love ourselves. It’s not an easy task to take on, but a necessary one if we want to ever reveal our true selves again. 

When I started this journey five years ago, I didn’t know who I was or what I wanted or where this journey was leading me. I had no idea that self-care required a proper balance of diet, exercise and stress management, and that one couldn’t co-exist without the other when done properly. The only thing I was looking for was how to manage my depression without the use of medication because taking medication was taboo, it was something I heard most people say was a bad thing and only for the weak which is why I hid my depression for most of my life. But experience taught me this was bullshit because when you find yourself with the urgency to stay alive, NOTHING should be taboo, and that, I realized the day I told my husband I needed to be institutionalized. “I am so fucking depressed that if you don’t take me to a long-term hospital, I don’t know what I’ll do to myself!” That shit was fucking real. That shit is nothing to play with. That shit is what took my best friend’s life...

I have recently embarked on a vegan diet because I’m curious to see if eliminating everything derived from animals will help my sinus. It’s been over a year since I’ve been dealing with an undiagnosed sinus headache that nothing the doctors have prescribed has helped. And because I’ve been leaning more towards a holistic approach is why I am trying this diet. In all of the reading and research I’ve been doing, I’ve learned that certain foods can make us really sick, while others can heal us. After watching What the Health and Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead on Netflix several years ago, I decided I would finally give it a try. I’ve always known that my relationship with food has been severely unhealthy and that I had to do something about it one day before it was too late. And that just because I’ve been at a healthy weight and each time I’ve gone for a physical I’ve had a clean bill of health, didn’t mean all the unhealthy eating wasn’t going to one day catch up to me. However much I thought about these documentaries, I knew then, I wasn’t ready to embark on such a journey, especially when I have always used food for comfort. It was, after all, what helped me cope with my depression and anxiety for most of my life. And though I had no clue of when or if this time would ever come, I realize now that working on my emotional well being had to come first. Never did I imagine that when I sat down to watch What the Health again two weeks ago, the next day I would go cold turkey and eliminate meats, seafood, eggs and dairy (which of course includes mayonnaise, my favorite! And cheeses, oh how I love and miss my fresh mozzarella and feta!) I am proud to say that I am on Day 11 and have been sticking to my diet EVEN when I attended my niece’s 16th birthday dinner at Edo’s Japanese Restaurant last Sunday! I was the only one out of 20 people that didn’t eat meat or seafood, and no eggs in my fried rice (I almost died). I didn’t even have the soup which is my favorite of all because it was made from chicken broth! Now that was hard, but I knew in my soul I was committed. And though I will be honest and say I didn’t miss eating what everyone else was having, I did not eat my food with joy or satisfaction because I felt a hunger that the rice with no eggs, salads and vegetables did not fulfill that day. As much as I contemplated not going to my niece’s bday dinner, I am glad I did because I learned a lesson that day. I discovered that when I had no restrictions in my diet, I had been eating to satisfy whatever emotion I was feeling at the time and not the real hunger... 

I will not lie and say it hasn’t been hard, because it has. My emotions have been all over the place like a rollercoaster, and I cannot say I miss most things because I don’t, but I can honestly say I feel deprived. And when hunger strikes I don’t just eat whatever comes to mind or the first thing I can get my hands on to satisfy the emotional cravings that normally feed my brain signals and NOT my body. However, my willpower has been tested. I’ve been feeling the downs of depression these last couple of days, something I hadn’t felt in a couple of months and I’m thrilled to have been able to fight through the cravings of everything I normally turn to when feeling this way. While on this diet, I have also become very clear with the fact that I did not stop eating these things because I am an animal activist, though I do hate that animals are slaughtered for our selfish consumption and is completely unnecessary for our survival. I say this because I do not know where this journey will take me and I cannot say that I’ll never eat animal products again, but I do know for sure that if I do, it’ll be in absolute moderation. And I have, however, realized that this journey has been teaching me to have a healthy relationship with my body by learning to eat for my health, and not for my emotions; something I never thought I’d be doing!

And lastly, the realization behind this part of self-care- Eating healthy has been something I’ve always dreamt of doing and though I never really thought I’d ever do, my soul never stopped wishing for it. I didn’t know how or when it would happen if it ever did, but I’ll tell you this.. When you become intentional about the things you want in life, self-care being my main priority these past couple of months, the Universe will begin to align itself at your favor. And I say this because I started a workout routine again (for my health, not my physical appearance), and little did I know that a week later I’d be taking care of my body in other ways, in better ways, like eating healthy <3

[carmeninguanzo]

Forcing Myself INTO Adaptation...

So I have decided to document my life as I “force myself into adaptation”. This process is grueling, this process is consuming both physically and mentally, but especially mentally because my mind has held me captive for as long as I can remember. Learning how not to allow my negative self talk to dictate my life has been my mission. I am tired of not living life to it’s fullest because of fear, because of where I’ve allowed the constraints of my mind to keep me and because I didn’t know then, what I know NOW. David Cushieri once said, “the mind is a powerful force. It can enslave us or empower us. It can plunge us into the depths of misery, or take us to the heights of ecstasy. Learn to use the power wisely.” And because this is something I’ve been working on for years, something I’ve been trying to figure out for a very long time, is why I decided to share my journey. It’s easy to listen to motivational videos, read inspirational books, watch a bunch of TED talks on overcoming depression and learning to take control of ones lives, hang around people who you want to emulate. What’s not easy is getting out of our own way, getting out of our own heads, breaking the cycle, the bad habits, the mediocracy mentality, becoming extraordinary. It’s easy to just get by and to have dreams and aspirations without discipline, but how easy is it to set these desires in motion? How easy is it to undo something you have no clue how to undo when your mind has always had the upper hand and control of you? This is the sad, but true reality of my life, and I take full responsibility for where I am in life today irregardless of my mental health or circumstances. Why? Because I am totally capable of making that decision for myself no matter what’s going on in my life and because I’ve realized it is my responsibility and only my own to get where I want to be in life. Changes aren’t going to happen unless I decide I want to make those changes happen. I desire change in my life. I need change in my life because I refuse to allow my “depression” and “anxiety” continue to run my life. I know I can do it (I have already begun to see the fruits) and I know you can too. It is because of this belief why I am going to commit to doing whatever it takes to reach my fullest potential, and I commit to creating a blueprint of what that looks like in my life. I will strive to be as honest as I possibly can even if that includes sharing the ugly side of this transformation. This shit will be hard, this shit will be real, this shit will strip me from everything I’ve ever not dared to do, but I will share this journey because depression and anxiety no longer control me, I control IT. I will share this journey because I feel it is necessary, and because I know in my heart it’ll help someone the way it has helped me… I do this with LOVE <3

The first time I remember having this realization that I was born for more than what I am now was when I attended my first Monavie meeting on January 20, 2010. I was newly unemployed due to making the decision to stay home with my then 1 ½ year old son because I was on a mission to get my son diagnosed; to get him “fixed”. In having two older boys, I knew that there was something very off with my baby. It was March 17 of that same year when my Evan was diagnosed with Autism. A major setback in my emotional life, but that seed that was planted in my heart during that Monavie meeting just would not allow me to walk away from the bigger life that I wanted for myself and my family irregardless of my circumstances. I was sick that day and suffering from a severe migraine that wouldn’t budge no matter how many painkillers I took throughout the day. “Why can’t you just stay home? Why must you go to this stupid meeting?” My husband was upset in seeing my health decline that day. He couldn’t understand why I was so insistent on going, and neither did I. All I knew was that I was going to be introduced to an amazing opportunity that would change my life, and it did in more ways than I imagined. And I did, after all, end up in the ER that evening after the meeting was over hooked up to a few IV’s, a CATScan and an MRI later. I stuck it through however, no matter how much pain I was in and how much I felt I was falling apart, I stayed at the meeting. I was relentless in wanting and needing a big change in my life. That day, I realized that my hunger for something greater was bigger than what could have possibly been going on with me. This is what happens when you make a decision; you don’t let anyone or anything interfere.

Another pivotal moment in my life was when I attended my first VONA writing workshop in June of 2013. It was here when I had this epiphany that I had been walking through life as a zombie. Literally. It was as if I had awaken from a catatonic trance and suddenly realized what was going on around me and the depth of what other people carried. I cried in that moment. I was shaken. I was reborn. I was alive and I became aware of the possibilities for my life in spite of everything that was holding me back. It was at VONA where I had my biggest awakening of believing that I too, could become a writer. No, getting the acceptance letter into VONA was not enough to make me believe there must’ve been something in my writing that carried enough power to get me accepted into the program. No, the fact that I was one out of the ten people that were chosen from all over the world to attend this writing workshop at the University of Berkeley, California was not enough to convince me that I was a good enough writer. I simply had no faith in myself. This mental battle, being the biggest one I’ve had to overcome. And not to say that this is still not a struggle because it is, and I believe we all suffer from that in one way or another. But what I have learned to do which is the biggest lesson, I feel, is learning to pay close attention to what I allow to enter and invade my mind; shielding my thoughts and the stories I tell myself. And when those negative voices begin to fog my self perception, I do whatever it takes to push them out and replace them with affirmations like, “yes, I fucking can!”, “I am completely capable of living my dream as a writer”, “I am worthy”, “I am enough”, “I will fight through this depression”… And the more I feed my mind with positivity, the bigger my affirmations have become. I have carried myself to a place where I don’t just say them; I believe them with conviction and replaced them with “I will become a best seller”, “I will buy myself that dream house I want with a view of the beach”, “My bank account will never lack again”, etc. Every day I envision myself waking up and throwing on my boxing gloves… Let’s fucking do this! Because this is what it feels like, literally. I am in the boxing arena fighting the biggest bully of my life. That which holds the most power and control over us. Every day I fight to develop myself with daily mental workouts, and I know that eventually I will have the break through I’ve been seeking. This shit is fucking hard. This shit is fucking hard work and commitment. Breaking through the hard shell of who we’ve been and breaking through our negative beliefs about ourselves is like trying to break through steel, but I won’t give up. I won’t abandon my dreams and aspirations. I won’t abandon myself and the great things I believe I was born to do in order to serve others; those magnificent dreams God has ingrained in me that keep me up at night… Every morning I will wake up and put on my Superwoman cape. Those dreams that have followed me since childhood, those feelings of being born for something more, you have too, and you too, should never abandon them. The false belief that you are incapable of living your dreams are nothing but an invitation to ruin your life and are nothing close to what the Universe is waiting on from YOU! 

“Every day stand guard at the door of your mind and feed it something good. Just 30 minutes a day of reading or hearing something that feeds your spirit.” From a YouTube video

“If you’ve ever wanted in your life to make significant things happen and get tough things done, if you’ve ever had a light where you realize that your outward experiences and results currently in your life doesn’t match the potential you know that’s resting on the inside of you, then my friend, YOU NEED TO KNOW how to engage in the process of self-mastery.” From a YouTube video

“Live by faith and not by sight. Get outta my brain and into my heart.” P. Diddy, Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop

[carmeninguanzo]

Because it Doesn’t Have to Hit Home for Me to Raise Suicide Awareness...

Mental health was the subject weighing heavy on me all day today. Depression is something I battle with more days than not. I could go to bed feeling great and wake up the next day feeling like there’s a dark cloud hovering over me no matter how much sunshine peaks through my windows. Each time being a different battle. It’s paralyzing. It’s exhausting. I will not lie about it. It’s robbed me from so much. And even though I’ve learned to throw on my boxing gloves and get ready to fight that fucking enemy each morning it shows up unexpectedly, it robs me, still. It robbed me today. But feeling robbed and depleted did not keep me from offering someone support. I was still able to offer comfort to two friends that needed to hear that it will be okay as long as they’re willing to fight every time they feel depressed. I, personally, know SO many people that suffer in silence. I know firsthand what it is to lose someone so dear to me, to suicide. I speak up for my beloved and missed friend. I speak up for this young lady I posted the picture and fundraiser for whom I do not know, but ironically, heard about today when a friend posted this about her cousin. I speak up for my friends and family that suffer from mental illnesses in silence. Is this a subject I like to speak about or feel comfortable putting out there? NO. Absolutely not. But I speak up because as someone who’s suffered from mental illnesses my entire life and who’s learned to navigate my way through life in one piece, I feel it’s my responsibility. In fact, it’s all of our responsibility whether you suffer from it or not. In checking in on a dear friend today that I’ve recently learned suffers from depression in silence, and who only wrote a little something about how she feels on a post I wrote a few weeks back, is why I will continue to speak about it. Because depression is REAL. Because depression is a disease just like any other disease. According to the Mayo Clinic, “Depression is a mood disorder that causes a persistent feeling of sadness and loss of interest. Also called major depressive disorder or clinical depression, it affects how you feel, think and behave and can lead to a variety of emotional and physical problems. You may have trouble doing normal day-to-day activities, and sometimes you may feel as if life isn't worth living. More than just a bout of the blues, depression isn't a weakness and you can't simply "snap out" of it. Depression may require long-term treatment. But don't get discouraged. Most people with depression feel better with medication, psychotherapy or both.” http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/depression/home/ovc-20321449 

But so many don’t get help because they are ashamed to do so, as I was once ashamed. Whether it be that they see medication as something horribly bad (as I once did) because that’s what I was taught to believe, or are afraid to seek help, or be looked at as weak, it all circles back to the STIGMA. A stigma that so desperately needs to be broken. Because in most cases, people who commit suicide could have received the necessary help instead of suicide being their best and only alternative. I know this, and I say this with confidence because I, too, have attempted suicide. And because I am here today is why I can say that there are better alternatives. There IS help out there. And no, we are not alone. Does it mean I don’t feel like I’m better off dead sometimes when the weight becomes too difficult to carry? No, it doesn’t. It simply means that suicide is not a route I want to take and I’d rather seek all the help necessary, take all the medications necessary if that’s what it takes, and speak up about it to raise mental health awareness no matter how crazy or weak or whatever else people think about when it comes to depression. According to Medscape, “Depression is a potentially life-threatening mood disorder that affects 1 in 6 persons in the United States, or approximately 17.6 million Americans each year... Morbidity associated with depression is difficult to quantify, but the lethality of depression takes the measurable form of completed suicide, the tenth leading reported cause of death in the United States.” The TENTH! Go confirm this for yourself at The American Foundation for Suicide Prevention https://afsp.org/about-suicide/suicide-statistics/. What will it take for this rate to drop significantly? In my opinion, raise awareness, Raise Awareness, RAISE AWARENESS to help end the stigma. STOP the judgment. Understand the long term and life changing effects behind this disease. Sometimes, all it takes is someone to care... Sometimes, all it takes is someone to notice the inner battle that person is fighting and ask them how they feel. Because though sometimes it can be hidden as I did for decades, there are times when depression is written all over someone’s soul. I checked in on a friend today and this is what she wrote me, “Thank you so much, Carmen! Your friendship means so much to me. I tend to hide and isolate myself because I hate being a downer, I hate myself for being so depressed all of the time, I feel like a burden on everyone and it feels easier to just be quiet. Thank you for your love for reaching out to me. I’m really touched.” And THIS, exactly what she wrote, is what depression looks like. Reading these words meant everything to me! Especially in knowing that she sought psychiatric help without meds and it is helping her! These conversations have all been via social media and look at the difference it’s made. Not to say that I won’t make myself available if she ever wanted to talk over the phone, because I so would get on the phone with her or anyone NO MATTER how depressed I myself can be feeling. Why? Because I’ve made that much of an impact for her to seek help. Because I never know if I can save someone’s life, or help make their burden lighter. Because I never know if I’m the only person they dared reach out to because of my openness about my own personal struggles. Because IT’S THAT SIMPLE.

I’ll end this blog with this and hope that you can start educating yourself and sharing these type of stories, like the story of this beautiful young girl who committed suicide and I don’t even know... According to an article from Psychology Today, “ Depression's severity can't be overestimated, though, and the disorder is rapidly becoming a worldwide pandemic. It's now the second leading cause of disability worldwide, with about 350 million people suffering from the disorder at any given time. Recent commentary in Psychiatric Times by Dr. Elizabeth Griffin aims to remind clinicians and patients alike that depression is no laughing matter.” Depression is so often looked down upon that we don’t realize how we could be of help to someone who’s depressed and suffering in silence because of the fear of being labeled. My heart breaks for Kariellis Jimenez and the friends and family she left behind. My heart breaks for my best friend, Roz de la Rosa and his wife and two daughters who miss him so much every single day. My heart breaks for Chester Bennington, singer from Linkin Park, also leaving behind his 5 children, wife, family and friends. My heart breaks for Robin Williams, the funny and charming man I grew to love and depend on whenever I needed a good laugh. My heart breaks for EVERYONE we’ve lost to suicide. My heart breaks because more people aren’t talking about mental health... And this is NOT a battle that can be fought alone. Ever. 

“In her commentary Griffin discuses the shock with which suicide is often met. Loved ones may remark that the suicide victim was selfish, that she “seemed fine,” or that only crazy people kill themselves. But Griffin, who herself has struggled with depression for most of her life, aims to put the lie to these claims. She points out that depression can affect even the most competent, educated, and supportive people, leaving them shells of their former selves. And all too often, those afflicted by depression are too independent to seek help, or feel hopeless about the possibility of treatment actually working” (Psychology Today). https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/when-your-adult-child-breaks-your-heart/201406/depression-underestimated-illness

Please share this. Please keep Kariellis Jimenez, her family and loved ones in your prayers today. Please join the mental health awareness fight to end the stigma. Please, please, please take part in this. I’m sure that if you yourself are not suffering from a mental illness, SOMEONE you know, IS. If you or anyone you know are in crisis, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255) or contact the Crisis Text Line by texting TALK to 741741. There is help for everyone. You are not alone!

[carmeninguanzo]

“Pelo Malo” is What They Called It...

I was five-years-old when my mom first relaxed my hair. I. Didn't. Have. A. CHOICE. "No tengo tiempo para bregar con su pajón," she told the Dominican hairdresser when she told my mom I was too young to have my hair relaxed. “Los desrizados tienen mucha químicas,” she said. Grant it, I was her only girl-and child #4. She'd been dying for a girl after having three boys back to back, but didn't count on my curly thick coils being part of that desire to have a girl. I guess she was banking on a baby girl with straight fine hair. "Pelo malo" or “bad hair” is what she and my entire family would call it. I was seven-years-old when she cut my hair into a teeny weeny fro. I was DEVASTATED! "No tengo tiempo para bregar con tu pajón," was her response when I begged her not to cut it. You see, I grew up thinking my hair was "pelo malo" and was taught that the ONLY beauty standard was straight, "good hair", and so I hid my "pelo malo" complex behind keeping my hair straightened by going to the salon EVERY week, rain or shine. And God forbid a rain drop hit my hair! My anxiety would go up the roof if my roots would wrinkle and people would see my "pelo malo". As much as I’ve always loved the pool and the beach, even that was a stress factor for me, and for the millions of women that have been told they have “pelo malo”. I’m sure there are cultures other than Dominican ones that think having straight, shiny hair is what makes a woman beautiful. “El pelo es lo que hace una mujer. La mujer que tiene el pelo desarreglado, nunca luce bien y se ve fea.” These words would ring in my ears for more than three decades. These lies, so many of us have been fed. Curly hair or not.   

I stopped relaxing my hair in July 2015. This would be my third attempt to go natural; the first two times going back to relaxers because I truly believed I looked ugly and could not, for the life of me, look past my hair texture and see the beauty I carry within. I wanted my hair to look moisturized and less coily, but I couldn’t achieve that. I read in an Essence magazine article, “unlike straight hair which reflects light, our highly textured strands with their glorious bends and turns, refracts light, giving it a somewhat dull appearance. So, similar to those pesky single strand knots and shrinkage, it kinda comes with the territory.” ~Curly Nikki 

It’s been a difficult transition since I last stopped relaxing, to say the least. For an entire year I continued to visit the salon weekly because I hated the way the two different textures blended when growing out the relaxer. I was afraid to show the world my roots growing in. Then, in August of 2016, I went to a Devacurl salon to get my first curly cut. My intentions were never to do the big chop, I wanted to grow out my hair in stages. Needless to say, the hairdresser who cut my hair messed up so bad I had no other choice but to do the big chop (the process of cutting off the relaxed or permed ends of one’s hair when transitioning from chemically processed hair to natural hair). A very HUGE decision! But of course, I did not go to the same place. He messed up my haircut twice, AND, snipped my ear in the process, leaving me with a bloody painful ear :/ ! For weeks I hid at home because of the shame I felt, because of how terribly ugly I felt. When an uncle of mine past away last summer, I contemplated not attending his funeral because of fear of what my family would say and how they would ridicule me. Thankfully, my cousin convinced me to go. “Carmen, he’s not just anyone. He’s your mother’s brother.” My suspicions were confirmed that day. I was the talk of the funeral. Some of them telling me how horrible my hair looked. “Ay Dios mio Carmen, pero y que te hiciste en ese caquito? Tan bello y brilloso que tenía tu ese pelo.” Since my hair was no longer straight or shiny, they had lots to say. That was just ONE of the many horrible comments I received. I saw the looks on some of their faces, and heard the whispers about my hair. Less than a handful commended me for my decision and said my natural hair was pretty. I didn’t hear those. I didn’t hear the nice comments people made about my hair until recently... This... is called #Trauma.

A month later, my very close friend lost his five-year-old son. Again, I was paralyzed with fear. “Oh my God! I’m going to see people I haven’t seen in years. What will they think of me? I look so ugly.” This was my internal dialogue, daily. Especially, whenever I knew I was going to see people who had always seen my gorgeous, shiny, straight hair. I was there for my friends every step of the way because that’s what friend’s do. I felt humiliated, nonetheless...

It’s been almost one year since that big chop. It’s been almost an entire year of me hating who I’ve been looking at in the mirror. With having to do my own hair every week for the first time in my life, and having such tight curls, the struggle has been REAL. Many times regretting my decision, though going back this time around has never been an option. I made this decision to go natural and I am standing by that decision, irregardless of who likes my hair or not. My mom still not liking it and making sure she brings it to my attention each time I see her. “Pero mi hija, y cuando tu vas a ir para el salon?” (I’m unbothered, by the way.) I will never be a slave to a salon a-gain! This journey has made me develop thick skin and it’s been months since I let a single negative comment send me in a depressing spiral. Because yes, this journey made me even more depressed than what I normally was. But this journey, I’m grateful for. This journey, was meant to be. This journey, has transformed me. I have learned to love myself. Maybe not all of me lol, but a whole lot more than before I embarked on this journey! It’s a process, and I’m grateful for it.

Today, I am happy to say, I like my hair a LOT. I’m getting closer to loving it. I’m just waiting for the detangling process of the constant knots to get easier lol. But I don’t really see that happening as my hair continues to grow longer. I predict it’ll only get bigger tangles with how thick it is. Yikes! But what am I to do? It’s my hair. The hair I was born with. The hair I choose to keep and embrace because the freedom that I’ve felt is indescribable! Because I no longer feel like a slave. A slave to the salon. The slave I was for 35 years of my life! The freedom I feel when I’m outside rain or shine, humidity or not, curly q’s or not. Fuck, I’m fucking free from those shackles! 

This beautiful letter I’m sharing was written by a mother to her young daughter. If only every parent would say this to their child no matter their hair texture. A lot more girls would have confidence and feel pretty, while learning to embrace their natural beauty. It’s called, This is How You Learn to Love Your Hair. 

July 11, 2014  

Dear Zora,

This is how you learn to love your hair in a world that requires such lessons. First, you remember who gave you that glorious head of curls–your parents, your ancestors, your Creator. Then, you care for it like a treasured inheritance.

Loving your hair, like loving your family, your days, your life, requires two things: reverence and effort. To truly love your hair, you must hold it in high regard and you must behave like you do. As you behold it in a mirror or touch its willful strands, you must pause to consider what it does for you and to define what it means to you. Then you must treat it accordingly.

You’re not yet three years old, so this whole discussion may be a bit premature, but not by much. Your hair is cornrowed into a side ponytail today. You wear it that way because I’m calling the styles and long ago adopted a no heat, no chemicals, no fake hair policy for us both.

There’s no peer pressure for you to wear it any other way yet. Most of your friends rock afro puffs, box braids and two-strand twists. But you can look to their mothers’ relaxed and pressed styles for a preview of what’s to come. There comes a day when many moms of daughters with hair like yours reach for hot combs, flat irons and chemicals to “tame” kinky tresses. And when they do, I expect you’ll notice the difference and have some questions for me. Mommy, why doesn’t my hair blow in the wind? Why can’t I run my fingers through it? Why does it get curlier when wet and frizzier in the sun?

The decision to straighten or not is a personal one, albeit one loaded with social, cultural and economic significance for black people. From the moment slaveholders shaved off the elaborate hairstyles of their African captives, hairstyles have mirrored our rocky rise from anonymous chattel to distinctive humanity. To this day, hair is impossibly tangled up in issues of black identity and social acceptability. Just look at the debate raging over the U.S. military’s new grooming guidelines’ bias against black hair, which tends to grow out, not down.

I want to raise you to love your hair in its natural state so that dying it, relaxing it or not will truly be a choice for you. Some women say that they straighten their hair for fashion or convenience, but many are deluding themselves. They are crushing the natural texture of their hair because they were taught to hate kinky hair or never learned how to love or take care of it. They are relaxing, weaving and wigging their hair because in the twisted skin-shade, hair-texture hierarchies of American history, straight hair sometimes affords economic and social advantage. 

I am committed to teaching you this to fortify you against the crazy you will undoubtedly encounter. Soon you’ll observe women who don’t swim or work out because they want to keep their hairstyles intact. You’ll see some who will chemically process their hair to the point of baldness rather than embrace their God-given hair texture. You’ll notice others who would rather sport expensive wigs and weaves than take the time and do the research to nurture their own locks.

As you get older, others will look upon your natural hair and start jumping to conclusions about your class, your potential, your politics. I know because these same people see my afro puff and label me “militant” and worse. (Note: The labels say more about them than about me. Like Whitman, I contain multitudes.)

Avoid their prejudice and make sure your natural hair love is never reduced to straightened-hair hate. Not every naturalista is empowered and not every relaxer is rooted in shame.

When you are old enough to choose your own hair styles, may they reflect great self-awareness, self-confidence and vision. Always remember who gave you that head of hair–your parents, your ancestors, your Creator. Then care for it like the inheritance it is.

Love,

Mom

http://mayasmart.com/natural-hair-love/

[carmeninguanzo]

#fbf #part2 #thenandnow #since1997 #despacito #mylove #20years #thruthicknthin

[carmeninguanzo]

#fbf #thenandnow #since1997 #despacito #mylove #20years #thruthicknthin