I Made A Mistake

Old Wounds That Continue To Hurt

I made a painful mistake.

Eventually I’ll share it but, not today.

The hurt is too raw.

An overlooked detail or less than smart choice was unavoidable.

I’ve made hundreds of move abroad decisions on my own the past few months. I made each one while depressed, under resourced and with a c-PTSD brain that I have to fight daily to survive.

My brain is tired.

I’ve had hurdles in the process.

But this? It felt like a barrier.

Hurdles require effort. Barriers stop progress.

My mistake tore open an old, tender wound.

I am alone.

I have been for the majority of my life.

My parents never wanted children and their immediate family was unsupportive. I wasn’t taught how to create, sustain or nurture healthy relationships.

I do not feel human.

It’s a pain point I’ve been unable to repair.

I’ve always believed you need one of the 5 P’s to survive:

• People - relatives or chosen family

• Person - the one you do life with

• Place - a home where you feel at peace

• Purpose - a reason to keep existing

• Pet - no explanation needed

I’ve never had close relationships. I married a person who didn’t like me. My most stable home has been my car. I have no idea why I exist. I love my cats but they’d be fine without me - that’s why I adopted Nico.

I’ve rarely felt protected, valued, heard, wanted or cherished. I have never belonged anywhere or to anyone. I have faced the world largely on my own.

It hurts like hell.

I didn’t expect an easy life but this feels cruel, it shouldn’t be this hard.

What sucks is that I really tried.

I’ve worked since I was 15. I went to college even though emotionally, I was a traumatized 11 year old. I stayed at soul sucking jobs because that’s what you do when you’re poor and lack a safety net of support. I was in corporate for 10+ years, I’ve been a teacher, a home organizer, had administrative jobs and so many more.

At the height of the pandemic, I delivered with Instacart, Amazon and Uber.

I know how to work.

Each time someone says “just get a job” I stay quiet.

When my nervous system was unable to tolerate people anymore, I turned to my creativity. That’s what I've done for the past five years. Unfortunately, I’ve consistently failed because I am worn thin. I give no damns about sales or social media.

Design an entire library of resources? Absolutely yes.

Promote them online? Ain’t no way.

Working harder isn’t the solution.

I need to rest and heal.

Too many Black women have a similar story.

I’m aware that my life is the result of my choices - I own that.

People with terrible options make terrible choices.

With that said, the underlying fault lies with the oppressive systems of an inequitable society and the lack of support we receive.

Both can be true.

And while my current reality is trash, I consider myself lucky.

I can write.

That has saved me.

As for my mistake, it was a reminder of why I often do not want to be alive.

I felt mishandled, dismissed and treated with a lack of care.

I know that feeling in my bones.

I doubted if I wanted to continue with the move and tore myself apart.

I should have asked for advice.

Is this a good idea? Does this make sense? What detail did I miss?

I have kind folks who would have gladly helped. And yet, I hesitate.

I continue to feel like an inconvenience even when they assure me I'm not.

The wound is old.

Why in the hell don’t you have built-in people, Robin?

The pain cuts deep.

It made me want to quit everything. But, no. I’ve come too far.

I want to know how it feels to enjoy life and be loved - even if only for a little while.

As for my move abroad…

I’ve changed the leave date to Sept. 1st.

I need time to recover my momentum.

I appreciate everyone who offered to care for my Mom’s ashes. My plan is to do the paperwork here and take her with me. I lack the bandwidth for a trip back.

To close this out…

I connected with a person last week who helped me not give up.

• They found a translator

• They cleared my Amazon wishlist

• They secured a driver to the airport

• They’re searching for travel support (expenses paid)

• They gently offered options and solutions when I was stuck

It went beyond “let me know what you need.”

(Overwhelmed brains often don’t know what they need.)

Instead it was “I’m with you.”

They were clear that if I wanted to leave August 1st, it would happen.

Their tangible support gave me hope.

But also, I appreciated how the support was offered.

“I know you value autonomy.”

“Is this helpful or overwhelming?”

“Does my communication style work for you?”

Their consideration provided ease.

Everyone can’t extend that depth of care.

If you are able to show up for someone in that way then I hope you do.

If not, then I encourage you to share support in ways you can.

It makes a difference for us.

Your Venmo’s, CashApp’s and Paypal’s of Community Care have helped me survive.

Thank you. ❤️

As for today, it’s been rainy in Atlanta. The quiet is welcomed.

I read a quote on Threads that said “it’s such a strange place to exist — feeling hopeful and defeated in the very same day.”

That’s where I am at the moment and that’s ok. I’ll try again tomorrow.

Please take care of each other out there.

We weren’t meant to do life alone.