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13 thoughts on mental health.

1.

I didn’t want to work out this morning but I pushed myself out into the sunlight anyway.

I’m confused by the weather as I walk the streets of my neighborhood. November in Atlanta is like a puberty-stricken teenager square in the middle of an identity crisis. Some days she is hot. Some days she is cold. She dresses up like winter on a Monday and then slips back into the nylon of spring by Wednesday. I wish November would make up its mind.

I pull out my phone and set the time for 45 minutes. I only need to walk and get my blood pumping for 45 minutes today. That’s all it will take.

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Make love famous: a love letter for today.

I don’t know a thing about politics. I don’t talk about it in small circles. I’ve held my breath for most of this election. I know some people are happy with the outcome of last night. Some of you are absolutely heartbroken. Some of you aren’t living in America so it touches you or it doesn’t. Either way, I am not here to write about politics.

I’m here to write you a love letter. That’s what I am good for today. That’s what I am capable of. I woke up this morning and felt really somber. It’s in these moments– where I know a good amount of people are hurting– that I feel too small. I feel like my actions can’t make a difference. But I felt like God was present this morning, like He was pressing His fingertips into me and saying, “Today is a support day. If all you do today is remind people of love then that’s a win.” That’s a win, babe.

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Welcome to the Monday club.

Hey you!

The following post comes from my Monday Morning Email series. I don’t usually post Monday Morning Emails on the blog but today is a special occasion.

  1. You might not even be aware that I send out a Monday Morning email every Monday to thousands of people like you! It’s quick, it’s feisty, and it’s my best attempt to get back at Monday for making everyone feel so lethargic! 
  2. For forever (or three years… you pick) my Monday Morning Email could only be accessed through a waitlist. Some people waited on that little waitlist for months before entering into the super cool Monday club. 

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We will forget about the chairs.

Whenever I come back to this blog after it’s been a while, every word I write feels like that first awkward text you send to someone after you feel you’ve been a bad friend.

I’ve sent plenty of those texts before. I usually try to cover up my shame with a bunch of garble, emojis and exclamation marks. I want the awkwardity (not a word) to be over in 2.5 seconds so we can get back to normal.

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The Year of the Book: October 15!

It’s one of your life goals: write a book. You’ve thought about it. You’ve talked about it. You’ve even tried to make it happen before. Whether it’s the last few months of 2016 or 2017, this will be the year of the book. The year where you map it out, develop your story, and sit down to write the dang thing!

I created this course material for the ones who dream of getting their words on paper and want to produce bodies of works beyond 20,000 words.

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Digging deeper into the Scriptures.

I don’t remember sitting down with a bible for the first time. I really don’t.

I know for the first few years of growing in my faith, I kept everything inside this one journal. I would write down my feelings and prayers. Somewhere in 2011, when I started going to a church for the first time as my own choice, I started sitting with a bible.

The bible at first glance is a pretty intimidating book. I didn’t know where to begin and there are some days, five years later, where I still question where to dig.

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The fight to keep your “normal.”

I’ve told this story a few times before. It happened in November 2014. It was the week of Thanksgiving and I was on the verge of a 4-month battle with severe depression. I say “verge” because, even though the depression had technically set in, those first few weeks were nothing compared to the rock-bottom I would encounter throughout the months of December, January and February.

Talking with my good friend Clifton, I balled my fists up and huffed at him with frustration, “I just want to go back to normal.”

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