The Journal of an Angry Black Man

It's 3:42am and I can't sleep. Lately, I've been stressed more than usual about my life. At one point, I thought things were headed in the right direction, but that was quickly dashed when I lost the night time job that I'd gotten at a local call center.  But, just like anyone else in this life, I've got to brush myself off and get back on that horse.  But, I know that I need to work through my thoughts about this situation, and the best place for me to do is it here, where my thoughts and feelings get as much validity as I give them. Well, training started two weeks ago, on a Tuesday. The day before we had orientation, and even that was a sign that things were not quite right with this job, but I ignored my instincts because I felt I had something to prove. Not to myself, but to certain people in my life that I believe don't think I am CAPABLE of keeping a job.  So, I started training and every day tried to find something positive to keep in my mind about...

I'm sitting here at the job I love, dreading going to the new one that I already have issues with.  I've already been called picky because I voiced how I feel about being exploited at this call center, and of course I've had to remove that person completely from my life.  I hate being labeled something by someone who has no point of reference what it's like to be me.  To call me picky is an insult, and it spits in the face of all the work I've done previously, all the education I got for myself, and everything that I've managed to push through in my life. Right now I'm so pissed, not just at that person, but at the situation I find myself in, and most of all I'm disappointed at myself for not being perfect.  I know, people will tell me that perfection isn't something that people should ever aspire to because it's not realistic, but I beg to differ.  When I go out into the world, I feel like I'm expected to be perfect, and I know I simply ca...

I should be ecstatic!  I'm finally done with the legal issues that have been plaguing me for the past year or so, and there's even a wonderful job opportunity on the horizon for me.  But, for some reason I'm not really feeling like I think I should. I think I should be happy. But, then again, I don't really know if I can trust my own judgment, since it's not been the best tool for me in my life up to this point. I don't have the hope or the faith (at this moment) that I thought I'd have once all the things I was carrying around were lifted off of my shoulders.  But, I guess there's a lot more that I haven't paid attention to that's keeping me weighed down. I really don't even want to delve any deeper into my life or my mind anymore. I just want to live. If there was a way I could be hypnotized or made to forget everything bad that I have in my mind, I'd take that option without a second thought or hesitation. I'm married, I have a...

I sit down to write, and bullshit comes from the tips of my fingers through the keys.  Whatever I start to talk about slowly winds its way onto a tangent rant about some OTHER bullshit I've been holding in.  I've heard about writer's block, and whether or not this is it I am unsure.  But, I do know it makes it difficult to do anything relatively creative. Speaking of creativity...my husband and I were looking at an app that tells you about the day you were born and a lot of in depth astrologically relevant personality descriptions.  It was dead-on about most of what it said about me.  I'm a Leo and every time I read about myself it says I'm a creative person.  I have never considered myself creative and when asking my husband if he thought I was I got one of those side eyes that lets you know the question is bordering on stupid.  He told me the things he found about me that he felt were very creative, and I did as I always do, try to smile and accept...

My mom's tree...  Typically, the holidays are the time of year I look forward to when it comes to being with family and "at home."  This year is different. Not because I don't want to be in Portsmouth and spend my day in and out of Cavalier Manor, but because I'm not feeling like I have anything to contribute to the people and the places I've gotten so much from.  They don't care... I know this. They just want to see my face and catch one of my rare genuine smiles or laughs.  I just feel as if that person is only around in fleeting moments.  He doesn't come to the surface unless all is clear and there's no one who will remind him of all the things he didn't do correctly in life. Going home would probably fix a lot of the anxiety I have about adjusting to life away from the only place I've ever known (honestly). But, once again, I would also have anxiety about being a 31 year old man in his hometown who has to get rides to and from ever...