something i want to address before going into my thought of the week is this notion that there is a perfect way to spend time during quarantine. i have friends who are working out twice a day, some putting in 12 hour work days from home, others tapping into their artistic side, a few trying out new recipes and some who are doing nothing at all (because the thought of trying to be productive is overwhelming). here’s the thing – all of the aforementioned are okay. i don’t want anyone reading my posts to think a certain level of productivity is required during quarantine. we are in the middle of a pandemic not an adult version of summer vacation. be kind to yourselves, please.

okay! just had to get that out of the way.

now, between work, catching up with friends via facetime, watching a ton of tv and creating new recipes, i have also just had more time that is truly quiet and it has provided me time to think. i have done a great deal of reflecting around my growth since moving back to la in summer of 2017 and i almost don’t recognize myself due to how much i have evolved. it is both scary and exhilarating.

when i came across this quote, it perfectly captured how i was able to jumpstart my growth process.

“you cannot grow in the same soil that poisoned you.”

while moving back to la was part of my growth process, addressing and then removing toxic energy/people, setting up boundaries and not negotiating said boundaries has allowed that growth to continue. with the definition of insanity being described as doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting different results, i had to stop feeding into that. i had to change my soil in order to really bloom.

are you feeling stunted in your growth? is it time to change your soil?

xoxo,

k. tap

i wanted to rap with you all about something that keeps resurfacing both at work and in my personal life – mental health treatment.

 

now, for those of you who are new to my blog, i have my masters in counseling psychology with a marriage and family therapy emphasis.  i currently work at an all girls college prep school as a counselor that wears two hats – one is doing academic advising for 9th and 10th grade and the other is doing mental health counseling for grades 9 through 12 while accruing the 3000 hours needed for licensure.

 

since we have been quarantined, there has been a spike in the number of students seeking treatment and an increase in the number of sessions requested by students i was already seeing regularly.  i have also been on the receiving end of tons of text messages, dms and phone calls from friends who feel like they are “losing it” or “spiraling out of control” or “simply cannot explain these feelings”.

 

for my students i was seeing regularly, some of them no longer have the privacy to discuss issues they might have in my office because the people they want to talk to me about are now at home with them.  for my students i had only seen in an academic setting that are now considering mental health treatment, there has been a lot of hesitation.  the same applies for my friends ranging from ages 25 to 60, both men and women.  when doing some digging as to where the hesitation stemmed from, there was a common theme that came up again and again.  it is one that drives me a bit crazy and something that needs to be acknowledged.  faith broussard cade put it simply:

 

 

“just because your grandma/grandpa/mama/daddy didn’t “believe in therapy” doesn’t mean you shouldn’t seek the mental health treatment you need…how you heal is your choice.” -faith broussard cade

 

while i know therapy still has a stigma, especially with the populations i work with, this is still something i am trying to instill in my students because i want them to be adults that do not feel shame around prioritizing mental health and healing in a way that feels good for them.  as far as my friends who have the agency over their lives and the funds to make mental health a priority with ease, i want them to break the cycle of not healing because it was not prioritized by the adults who reared them.

 

my own father went from being someone who refused to go to therapy with me as an adolescent when i requested it (and said it is for particular groups, young black women not being one of them) to questioning both my major and choice of university for undergrad to telling me on my graduation day that it “looks like you made the right decision – i am glad you listened to your gut” to hearing of the work i did during practicum in grad school and telling me how proud he was of me to opening up about some of his own traumas last year and saying that he was considering therapy for himself for the very first time at the ripe age of 63.

 

far before my dad got on board, i made a choice about my mental health in an effort to break a series of cycles that were not in alignment with who i was and more importantly, who i wanted to be.  had i listened to him, i would be have waited until i got his stamp of approval at the age of 29 before working on me.  instead, i did the work anyway (and continue to do so).

 

i am so fucking glad that i did.

 

quarantine has provided many of us with more time for quiet to sit alone with our thoughts and feelings than we typically get.  if you have had thoughts or feelings come up that don’t seem feasible to tackle on your own, what better time to vet a therapist?

 

i want you to take a moment and silence every single voice in your head that is not your own.  then, tell me what healing looks like for you.

 

xoxo,

k. tap

 

weepy.  exhausted.  depleted.

 

on multiple calls over the last several days, friends have checked in to see how i was doing and those are the three words that best described it.  but then again, how do you describe something in a way that captures everything all at once?  is it even possible?

 

i watched more tv than what should ever be allowed last tuesday and wednesday.  while what i was watching would have tugged at my heartstrings no matter what, i don’t think it would ordinarily produce tears.  i am not talking about a tear or two – i am talking about uncontrollable sobbing.  sometimes, i found myself still weeping even when the credits started rolling.  20 straight minutes of crying is practically unheard of for me, yet there i was.  it was not until a friend text messaged me to schedule a call that i became aware of what time of year it was.

 

i opened my calendar and it was april 29th.  there was only one day left in april before entering the month of may – the month i now dread because i am reminded over and over again that you are not here.  you passed on the 7th, mother’s day is always closely thereafter, papa’s birthday is on the 17th and your funeral was on the 25th.   on some level, it feels like i hold my breath for the entire month without ever truly feeling settled.

 

the thing about grief that is a misconception is that time heals all.  i am not a wreck 24/7, 365 but i still have days where i am a wreck.  learning to sit with that instead of trying to bury it has truly been a challenge unlike any other.

 

in the last year, i have grown, loved and lost.  i often wonder what wisdom you would have offered me.  that has only been amplified amidst the pandemic we are in.  as much as i miss you, i am almost grateful you are not having to deal with this bullshit.  it is wild.

 

anyway, i make a conscious effort to honor you both in big and small ways.  sometimes, it is something simple like baking lemon bars for the first time (i know how much you loved a good lemon dessert), sending jaclyn a sympathy card from your personal collection when she lost her grandmother or helping a well deserving student-athlete pay for her letterman jacket.  other times, it is something bigger like standing next to crystal as her maid of honor (you would have loved sam, by the way), facilitating coming out conversations between at least a dozen of my students and their families or driving six hours to the bay to comfort a friend who never asks for anything but vocalized needing support.

 

while this last year without you was easier than year two, i can say with conviction that i do not miss you any less.  the older i get and the more i work on myself, the more of you i see in me.  it is both healing and heartbreaking but the heartbreak is worth it.

 

you taught me so much about unconditional love, patience, independence, compassion and how to foster meaningful relationships – all of the things they don’t teach you in school (even though they should).  now that i am 30, i think of what this decade will hold for me.  two of the most monumental shifts will be having my own practice and becoming a mother.  while there is still some time before either of those boxes are checked off, if my 30s go by as quickly as my 20s did, i know each is just around the corner.  with what you instilled in me, i know both are undertakings i can accomplish.  i just wish you were here to experience all of it with me.

 

i love and miss you with every ounce of my being.

 

love always,

pumpkin