The Penthouse I’m Still Promising You.

I wrote a book last year. It’s really good. I’ve never really talked about it. I kinda just published it and that was that, but people had a lot of questions. I could just make you go buy it so I could pay my bills and get famous, but the book was so much more than that. It was a love letter to myself. It was a love letter to everyone else who was struggling. What started as a suicide note to my loved ones at the lowest point in my life, ended as a promise that things would be okay. I wrote the book in real time. Everything I wrote that I was feeling, I was feeling while I was writing it. The traumas were past tense, but the feelings of nothingness and sadness were very present while I was writing. I think that’s why after I wrote it, I never talked about it again. It ended very wavy and I wanted to leave it at that. I didn’t want people to know I was still sad. I wanted to force healing so I could be a success story. I’m not as sad as I was when I wrote the book, but i’m still sad. This blog is a spin-off, an update on my life since I wrote and published the world famous, New York Times best selling book ( i’m manifesting shhh)

I’m still sad– I don’t want to die every waking moment like I did in the book but depression is still very much a part of my life. The difference is that, I have accepted that. I know that depression will be here with me always, but I don’t let it consume me like it used to. I enjoy the glimmers now. I smile, I laugh, I enjoy things and allow myself to indulge in happiness. I don’t let sad days turn into sad weeks and book number two. I acknowledge that what I have is a disease and I work everyday to heal and make my days better so I can enjoy life. Depression used to paralyze me for months at a time. I would binge eat, rot away on the couch. I wouldn’t want to shower or wash my hair. I didn’t go outside, I struggled to get up from bed. That doesn’t happen anymore. I have bad days of course, but I nurture myself now. I try to show myself love and patience. If what my body needs is to stay in bed a little longer in a big t-shirt and messy hair then that’s okay. I don’t punish myself for it because it’s okay. It’s just not my entire personality anymore.

I get along with my mom now(kinda)– so the book left off with me saying
I wouldn’t talk poorly about my mom in my suicide note. However, I spent the rest of my book telling everyone how much she hurt me. We’re not the best of friends now, but we get along. I set boundaries and I think for once she finally acknowledged that she did cause me real pain and I wasn’t just a troubled kid. I forgave her for all the things she cannot fix and I have allowed her a space in my life not to rebuild but to create. Building memories now because she’s getting older and we may not have time to start from scratch but I’m sure we can make some nice memories for the time that she has left. She still drives me nuts sometimes, but I understand her efforts now and I understand how hard it was for her to go thru all she went thru and still keep her kids happy and healthy.

I don’t have my penthouse yet– what I mean is that i’m not living the life that I promised myself I would be living if I kept myself alive long enough. I had plans to be this big book writer, promote myself, relocate to a city that was for creatives and focus on my writing and make a career out of it. I didn’t and haven’t done any of that. I’m not sure why. It’s not depression and suicidal thoughts anymore, but I think the lack of motivation comes from not feeling like i’m good enough to be as big as my dreams. Since I was a child, I dreamed of being famous. I wanted the world to know who I was. Even as an adult, I still dream that dream. I want everyone to read my book and know who I am. I’m working on it. I put myself out there more. Recently I have been trying to be more consistent with my writing and my blogging. Charlotte is full of creative spaces and people and I know that I have to take full advantage of the space i’m in now if I want those dreams to come true.

Self Love is still non-existent- this is a difficult one to admit I still struggle with. In the book, I talk about how much I hated how I looked and how much weight I had gained. That’s still true. None of that has changed. I have tried but I am still very much my biggest hater. I do not love the girl that looks at me when I look in the mirror. I don’t even know where to start a self love journey (if you have any advice please message me) I think the lack of self love is the reason I don’t follow my dreams. I want to be famous, but I don’t want anybody to see me. I love who I am on the inside but I feel as if how I look on the outside, is really ugly and nobody wants to give me a chance. In my mind, I am hideous. When I go outside, my mind tells me that I am the ugliest girl in the world and that everyone is also saying that. And maybe that’s not true, and i’m pretty sure nobody is even acknowledging me when i’m out, but those are my thoughts and they stop me from doing anything. I can’t say that i’m working on it. No part of me is trying to fix the parts that I dislike. I don’t like my weight but I am not working out or doing anything to fix it so it’s like.. girl, get it together.

I’m Alive– it’s like yeah, and? But seriously, this is huge. If you read the book, you know how bad I wanted to die. How I would cry every morning with no gratitude that god woke me up to see another day. I would wake up and have edibles for breakfast because I did not want to give the day a chance. I moved to Charlotte and celebrated days and weeks of suicidal thoughts sobriety. I would buy myself a cupcake for every week I didn’t attempt to take my life. I would celebrate myself for everyday I didn’t think about it. I’m not saying that every single day I love life and i’m grateful to be here, but i’m not plotting how i’m going to off myself every waking moment and to me that’s growth. My book was a suicide note. It was meant to tell my loved ones that I needed to kill myself because life would never ever get better no matter what. The purpose of TPIPY was for my family to understand that I had no other choice. In reality, I always planned to take my life once I published the book. I know it all sounds very dramatic now but seriously, read the book, it will all make sense. I celebrate that. Even when life hands me moldy lemons and shitty days, i’m alive. I’m here. I stayed long enough to see my book become a New York Times best seller (manifesting again shhh) I stayed here long enough to see my family read it, see my friends read it, see strangers on the internet read it. I had so many people thank me for writing it. For being so open about my struggles so they would feel a little less alone. I stayed alive long enough to see that and even if im not at the level of fame I wish I was, im still alive and will be long enough to see that happen.

It’s a good book. I’m telling you. Not just because I wrote it, but because it is real. It’s a story about a girl who battled depression and thought her only option was suicide. I bring you with me in my last attempt to try and stay and you are all witnesses to me , staying. Even if I haven’t fulfilled all the dreams, even if I haven’t gotten the penthouse. I’m closer than I was before I wrote the book. I don’t have a penthouse but I have an apartment in the city and I can see the skyline from the parking lot. I’m not super famous but I was featured in the Charlotte Ledger. Its a love letter to me and to you. It’s to let you know that I get it. It’s for you to read and say wow, I can’t believe someone else in the world knows and feels exactly how I feel. I just wanted everyone to feel a little less alone. I think I wanted to feel a little less alone. I’m so serious, go read it. It’s sooooooo good. 10/10. 5 stars. All that good stuff. What was supposed to be a cry for help, a suicide note, ended up being the greatest story of sadness ever written. I want to thank everyone who’s already read it for making space for me. I want to thank in advance those who are going to read it after reading this. The penthouse is coming, I promise.