Tag Archives: #healthmatters

Let’s talk about: overcoming fear

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I recall friendships as far back as my teenage years. I’ll categorize myself as being lucky because I’m halfway through adulthood and the love between myself and the majority of those individuals still exist.

There’s one particular friendship that started off quite rocky – in actuality I don’t know how we made it this far without killing one another and truth be told you can’t leave us together too long now without there being an arguement or two. Having said that, there’s nothing within my power that I won’t do to help her and I trust that to be reciprocal.

The pandemic hasn’t been kind to her, it actually wouldn’t be extreme to say she’s been through hell and spends everyday fighting to find her way back to normalcy.  This edition of “Let’s talk about” focuses on Erica C. McLean (Ricky): a proud member of Woodcrest United Church of Christ, a retired teacher, and a Godmom / Auntie to many.

To begin with allow me to share with you the medical conditions Ricky lives with on a daily basis: Fibromyalgia, Lipo Lymphedema, Morbid Obesity, Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease, Hypertension, Sciatica, Migraines, and ADHD. This is important because it’s a major contributor to her most recent diagnosis which presented itself in 2020.

As the constant report of people dying from Covid-19 complications played on our airwaves Ricky was forced to accept that she was at risk due to multiple comorbidities. This realization resulted in her isolating herself in her home, alone – it also created a space for anxiety to seep in – a space she has been unable to escape from for the past fifteen months.

About six months ago I started receiving hand written letters in the mail from my friend. They’d come once a month and include show / music recommendations, words of positive affirmation in regards to my brand, drawings, and whatever else was on Ricky’s heart / mind. She doesn’t know this yet but I cried when I got the first letter, partly because I’m now on the hook to write back (which I haven’t done yet) and partly because those conversations we once had around food and drinks is limited to paper and pen because fear keeps her from leaving her home.

I’ve heard of agoraphobia in the past but needed more knowledge in order to understand why the dynamics of my friendship changed. I needed to know if there was something I could do to help her through this, other than going to her house and snatching her out kicking and screaming- which was my first thought.

Once she became transparent I learned that she’s already working with a mental health provider in addition to her health team and writing letters are a part of maintaining contact with loved ones. She’s fighting and it’s my job to be ringside for every round, that’s the best source of support I can provide.

I asked my friend to share a few thoughts on her current status, these are her words:

Please check on your family, friends and neighbors. Black and Brown People, it is okay to get counseling /
therapy. Even in the pandemic I have been Zooming my Doctors, and Church Activities. I Facetime family and friends, I journal daily, I read the Bible more. Our church has a prayer group twice a week. Still be active in life while you are fixing your life. I may not be able to step outside my house right now, but I have stepped out of my comfort zone in other ways. I am learning new skills for when I get my
anxiety level controlled and can physically enter back into society.

Let’s talk about sexual abuse!

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Keeping a child protected from a predator is unarguably a priority, I recognize this and I’ve never given birth. We’re cautious of entrusting our children with strangers but dangers within the home at times go unnoticed. Our babies are being robbed of their innocence and the thief is someone they’ve been told to trust.

I was watching Antwone Fisher recently and although I’ve seen it a hundred times since its 2003 release I still get the urge to smack Nadine through the TV screen. If you’ve never seen the movie, she was a foster care relative that used a child for sexual pleasures. Please don’t take this thought to be a criticism of the foster care system, because it’s not – reality is there are quite a few pedophiles related by blood and that’s a problem.

Sadly, finding someone to interview for this discussion wasn’t a difficult task. In fact, the topic was presented to me. I’ve made the decision to keep her identity confidential; however, she will see the post.

Q: What are you comfortable telling me about your abuser?

A: He was a close relative, someone I spent the majority of my time with. He was welcome to the slumber parties and sleep overs because we were related. The door could always be closed when we were together because we were kids playing too loud while the adults were taking care of business. He is all that’s wrong with me today.

Q: How did the abuse start?

A: Honestly I don’t know! Through therapy discussion I recall watching movies where people were kissing and he’d say we should act like the people on the TV – or looking at a magazine and him commenting on the models boobs and teasing me about not having any. I remember lifting my shirt to show that I did – but I still can’t say when the abuse started.

Q: Some would say it started with that first scripted kiss, do you agree?

A: I struggle with that question because it’s not unhealthy for relatives to share a kiss. Outwardly expressions of love should be acceptable! It becomes a problem when an expression of love becomes lustful, that’s what we have to watch for.

Q: How much are you comfortable sharing about your situation?

A: I shared stories with my abuser about having sex for the first time – a few months later he raped me. Afterwards, he told my parents that he caught me having sex, which resulted in me being confined to the house or required to have someone with me when I left. I was dropped off and picked up from school. Of course the close relative is the likely person for you to be trusted with, which provided a lot of opportunity for us to be alone together. Whenever he wanted sex he’d ask if I wanted him to tell I had a boy in the house – afraid of being sent to boarding school, which is what my parents threatened as a punishment for being a fast ass, I’d do what he asked.

Q: What made the abuse stop?

A: I started doing really poorly in school and getting high – sniffing glue was my drug of choice. My parents decided I needed therapy and made me talk to someone at the church. What seemed like a good idea turned out to be my worst nightmare. After pouring my heart out to the “counselor” my parents were advised of the conversation, my abuser was called into a meeting, and a plan to pray the spirit of incest out of “US” was developed. Yea, after a few hours of discussion it was determined that I was willingly engaged in a sexual relationship with my abuser but holy water, anointed oil, and scripture for 24 hours would correct all that was wrong.

Q: What was done for your drug use?

A: The drug use wasn’t on the prayer list, I guess that wasn’t major in comparison to the sexual behaviors. My mental health wasn’t either – never did anyone stop to question if I told the truth. As a result of neither being addressed both spiraled out of control. I found a high in products you’d never think of and washed it down with brown liquor. The 24 hour prayer-thon didn’t remove the memories but addiction allowed me to deal with them.

Q: You’re an adult now, with your own child, how are you coping?

A: I have a foundation of supportive people surrounding me. I’ve been drug and alcohol free since before my child was born, and that was 8 years ago. I regularly see a provider that manages the medications I take for depression and anxiety. I have conversations with my child about good touch bad touch and the importance of coming to me if ever there is an uncomfortable exchange. Funny story: I got a telephone call from the school that I had to come see the teacher because there was a problem. With my child just returning to in person learning I couldn’t imagine what could have happened so I rushed to the meeting. The teacher explained that my child demanded I be called and started crying uncontrollably – she hasn’t been able figure out what’s wrong. My heart dropped in my stomach and my 1st thought was someone bad touched my baby. After being called to the meeting my child ran into my arms hysterically crying and shared that a classmate asked to share snacks. My precious child had celery sticks and peanut butter – the classmate had apples. My daughter didn’t want to share “because of the Covid” but the classmate dipped her apple in the peanut butter anyway. My baby felt violated and wanted my help. I laugh about that story now, but inside I wish someone had rushed to save me when I was being violated.

If you are a victim of sexual abuse please contact someone certified to help you. For resource information go to: https://www.rainn.org/resources

This is for the ladies

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Somewhere along our journey we were taught that it’s improper to talk about female matters openly. THAT’S DUMB!

If those matters weren’t a secret I would have known years ago that my mother has cystic breast and maybe the process of finding a lump would not have terrified me to the point of tears. I shared everything I learned with anyone that would listen in hopes of providing a detour from panic attacks and anxiety.

There’s an image of my mammogram posted on social media with a plea to my female friends to take their breast health seriously. People can see my breast and identify my cyst so that if one ever appears on their images it won’t seem frighteningly foreign.

I know my body, I understand the triggers that cause my cyst to swell, and I can calculate approximately when they’ll be at their worst. I’m good – so I thought.

More recently, I’ve been told that I am premenopausal. I’ve been anxiously awaiting this process for years, not nervous but ready to embrace this next chapter. I was advised of the potential side effects: hot flashes, mood swings, weight gain, etc. I prepared a plan to cope and waited for the change to happen.

Several months into the premenopausal cycle I noticed my monthly became erratic . I transitioned from a 26 day routine to a 30, 37, 42 day routine. I was totally ok with that because I knew it meant menopause was closer.

Educational break: menopause has not been reached until you’ve gone without a menstrual cycle for 12 months straight. Menopause lasts for 1 day then you’re considered to be in the post menopausal phase.

After a few months I noticed a change in post period discharge and chalked it up to the fluctuations in cycle days. It wasn’t painful nor embarrassing – it just looked and smelled different. I made a mental note to mention it to my gynecologist and kept living my best life.

I’m 14 months into premenopause without having achieved a cycle free quarter, so that full year isn’t happening anytime soon. I have hot flashes, but they’re bearable. I’m a Sagittarius so mood swings come naturally and I love food so weight gain is expected. What wasn’t predicted was the drop in estrogen creating a rise in the vaginal ph level resulting in an overgrowth of bacteria.

That change in discharge that I noticed was caused by bacterial vaginosis (b.v.) B.V. is often characterized by a change in discharge and a not so fresh smell, sometimes fishy. It can clear by itself but for some women it requires treatment. Testing to confirm b.v. is painless and the results were available in a few days.

My gynecologist thought it best to prescribe a gel insert treatment and we’re hoping this isn’t my new norm until I reach menopause. If it is, there’s a long term plan for that as well, one that I’ll happily share if I need to cross that bridge.

My thought for tonight: let’s talk about our body. Let’s educate ourselves and others on the multitude of complications that exist within our temple. Suffering in silence doesn’t benefit us nor does it offer support to other women dealing with the same situation.

If you’ve noticed any changes in your body speak to a medical professional. YouTube University and Dr. Google can’t replace proper diagnosis and treatment – you’ll thank yourself later!