Get the money, get the money, that’s what I know
I’m hoping that my seeds know a little more than I know
I know, I know, but baby this what I know
If we ever settle down, well baby this what I hope
Please let her be a hustla, baby be a hustla
Hope my baby girl grows up to be a hustla
Let her be a hustla, baby be a hustla
If not, then you’re only a customer
~The Roots, ‘Hustla’, How I Got Over (2009)
Alright all you sexy geeks and gangstas. I’ve got to throw out a little word of gratitude. Every single person who has read this blog or left your amazing and demented ideas in the comments, or even contributed ideas and stories for me to expound upon– you have been part of a very serious event, for which I am quite grateful. Let me ‘splain.
I started writing this blog shortly after leaving my career back in January, in order to stay home and care for a very sick little baby. I had just turned 30, I was fat from being pregnant, complete with saggy stomach skin that was challenging, DARING even, every pair of pants I owned to look normal. I was adjusting to staying at home, which I had never seen myself doing, and I was exhausted and an emotional wreck from my baby’s health scares, extended hospital stays, open heart surgery, and other issues. I was grieving the loss of my career, and my friends who I’d made as colleagues from across the country, because I wasn’t sure I would ever see them again. In short, I basically felt like I’d lost my life, myself, and it had all been replaced with bittersweet heartache.
Recently, Sugardaddy’s cousin had her kid in the hospital for four days with an infection. Seems like a short stay, but to a mother even one night is an eternity. This was also one event in a string of difficult health scares they’d had within the past 6 months. Now, I don’t know how many of you have kids, but if you don’t, I can’t really explain to you what they do to you. They basically take over your heart and soul. There’s no other way for me to explain it. They move in, settle all their shit all up in your soul, permanently occupying every cell in your body.
So I emailed her and just let her know that I was thinking about her, and if she needed to talk or get negative with someone, that’s my specialty. She asked how we’d done it. How had we coped with months and months of what she had recently gotten a small but very heavy and real taste of?
So I began to give that a lot of thought. I’m not suggesting you do any of these things necessarily, but they worked for me, so farbeit for me to deny you the truth. I touched on a couple of these things a little bit back in February, in my post about how to settle the fuck down.
1) Own it. Get real with the fact that life fucking sucks today (or this week, month, year, etc.). Denial is not going to get you anywhere. Just own that shit.
2) Move your sexy ass. Now, crises in life can be paralyzing. I want to warn you of that if you haven’t experienced that before. It’s depression, really, but if you find yourself paralyzed, for the love of God GET UP AND MOVE! I don’t care if you walk in circles in your living room, just move. Do. Not. Stop. Moving. Which brings me to…
3) MEDICATE. I’m serious people. Get yourself some antidepressants, and please do not stop taking them. Just freakin’ take them. Hustle ’em up off the streets if you have to. Take that shit.
4) Drink. And I mean draaaaaank! Drink** yourself something that, to a degree, numbs the pain and fear in your sweet little soul. **Please drink responsibly by not driving directly thereafter.
5) Lose yourself. What I mean by this is, do something occasionally that really lets you check out. My personal favorite is to go dancing with friends who make me feel good. But maybe you prefer reading or fishing or running. I’d do a lot of running when the baby was in the hospital. For some reason, it felt cleansing to go out and run so hard that it just hurt. Like I was purging pain from my heart and mind.
6) Fuck. If you don’t know already that sex makes you feel AMAZing, then I’m sorry for you. But it’s fucking science. It releases all kinds of endorphins and shit that make you feel so good that it keeps you coming back for more. Over and over and over… just do it. I don’t care who you fuck– mama ain’t here to judge. Just be safe and try to only fuck people who don’t leave you feeling like shit afterward. Let’s not perpetuate the hard times you are already experiencing.
7) Dump. And this is where all you mutherfuckers come in. This blog has been a really nice place for me to just dump all the shit in my head so I don’t have to carry it around inside all the time. And I think this has been a really important part of the processing that must be done when coping with crisis. It’s okay to get cynical, negative, sarcastic, etc. But find a place to deposit all that shit, and move on. You’re going to need to emerge from the place of pain you are in eventually. I think that process gets stunted if you hold on to the negativity.
So I want to thank you all for basically being my garbage recepticals. Kisses!
Mama just got a job, so I don’t know how often I’ll be throwing shit up on this blog, but I always love good material to get stupid about, so feel free to send stuff my way at firstname.lastname@example.org.
I love you assholes. Get in here, let’s hug it out!!!!