When 2021 became 2022, I never imagined that 10 days later my life would start to fall apart in ways I couldn’t fathom. But here I am 10 months later, still wondering where everything went wrong and why can’t any of it be fixed.
Today is October 28, 2022 and I should be preparing to celebrate my 11 year wedding anniversary tomorrow, October 29th, but instead I’m sitting here writing this and wondering when life will feel “normal” again. For those who don’t follow me on Instagram/Facebook, here is a short update of the chain of events that has been my 2022 thus far.
Ten days into the new year, my marriage completely imploded in a way that I feel is irreversible. On that same day, my hours were cut at my contractor position, which felt like a slap in the face since when I started working there I was told I’d be brought in as a full time employee in 2022. By the end of January, they had decided they no longer wanted to renew my contract and I became unemployed. While I’ve been unemployed before, this was different. I accepted this position based on a personal friendship with the leader of the organization, so as you can imagine that friendship is no longer and not because I was fired, but because she chose to knowingly do it during one of the hardest times of my life.
Fast forward to February and while I’m not feeling the best, I’ve compartmentalized my marriage ending and decided to focus on work. I’ve started working on relaunching Mamademics behind the scenes, while I also spent weeks preparing a Black History presentation for the U.S. Embassy in Togo. On February 24, 2022, I gave the presentation and I felt like I was floating on cloud nine afterwards. This bliss was short-lived because a few hours later my mom called to tell me my grandmother passed away. My grandma was my first best friend and I am devastated. I had still been coming to terms with her dementia’s progression and now she was just gone. Less than 90 days later, my grandfather made his transition as well. I’ve now lost two people who were a place of safety and consistency.
The same week that I went home to bury my grandfather, I received the keys to my one bedroom apartment where I now live when I’m not with the kids. We’re doing the nesting situation until the end of our lease. I spent half the summer with my children and the other half in therapy, applying for jobs, and trying to create art and content to generate income. As I’m sure you can imagine, this has been a difficult process, but I feel like things recently came to a head when I realized that I am drowning financially. It’s been nine months without steady guaranteed income and for someone who prides themselves on their independence it’s been rough. A couple weeks ago, I finally had the emotional breakdown of sorts that I’m sure people have been waiting for me to have this year. I spent 48 hours crying. The skin under my eyes is still healing because I not only cried soooo much those 48 hours but then at least once a day afterwards for the next week.
I cried because I felt like I did everything right. I went to college. I got married and started a family. I put my family over my career goals and I don’t regret it one bit. I wouldn’t change my decision to be home with my children during those formative years, although there are other things I would change but that’s a story for later.
I cried because I could feel my fibromyalgia in the wings waiting to hit me with a flare that would mean days in bed and not being able to create or make money. And the stress of not having money will only prolong the flare because fibromyalgia feeds off stress and anxiety.
I cried because I am exhausted and I need help. When I finally came out of my haze and told my support system what I needed, they came through in many different ways. One is by asking me if I’d be okay with them starting a GoFundMe for financial support right now. As badly as my pride wanted me to say no, I told the truth which is yes. This week they launched that fund and if you are open to supporting me here’s the link – Danielle Recovery Fund
I cried because I miss who I was before I allowed everything happening in my marriage to change me. I miss writing and creating for Mamademics. I miss having conversations with parents and figuring out how we can raise better children. I even miss speaking engagements despite my stage fright.
I know that I can get back to those things. I just need love, support, and some grace. If you’ve read this far, thank you for listening. I promise my next post won’t be so emotional and will be more about what I want for the future of Mamademics.
If you’d like to support me as I continue my job search, but GoFundMe’s aren’t your thing, I hope you’ll buy one of my courses or check out my new collection of bookish merchandise with a Black art and Black author focus – Callitgraphy.
