What This Week Has Done to Me

This post is going to serve as my diary this week. I don’t know how else to address the pain, anger and frustration felt around the country and in my heart. I don’t know the words to put together that will explain or represent the tears and terrified nights I’ve had because of police violence this week.

I’m hurting. I’m traumatized. I truly don’t know how much more I can take. My heart is breaking and my eyes are sore. I’m tired of the Twitter trolls, I’m tired of human lives and legacies being reduced to hashtags. It angers me that we have to convince so many that our lives matter even in light of the graphic videos this week.

Those videos. Alton Serling and Philando Castile. I can’t take that back. I watched them. I saw those men die. I saw the last moments of human life. Think about that. You saw the last moments of human life. I went into shock and I’ve been stiff and crying since. Being an activist, you know what you’re fighting for. You know what you’re fighting against. You hear the stories and feel the pain. But WATCHING? No. Nothing compares. There is no coming back from that. I’ve been forever changed.

If you’re hurting, it’s okay. You have the right to. And I’m sorry that you still have to go to work or to school as if nothing happened. As if this country isn’t burning. As if your melanin isn’t on fire. Take care of yourself. Please stay safe. Know that you don’t have to stay glued to the tv or social media consuming trauma all day. This is real. You are also real and that means that you need a break too. Do what you need to do to stay sane.

This fight isn’t over. Long live black women and men, boys and girls.




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