“Things To Do In Atlanta on a Rainy Day”

I woke up today with the intention to set out on an adventure. After a slow start, I finally got up, folded clothes, then I decided on Atlanta Botanical Gardens.

I got dressed, changed clothes a couple times because I was conscious about what I had on, then I headed out the door.

Rain.

Botanical gardens in the rain? I checked the weather. Rain all day. I googled “things to do in Atlanta on a rainy day”. Nothing fit the mood I was in.

I sat in my car trying to figure out what to do and I thought to myself why am I pushing myself to get up when I really just want to go lay down? For a blog post?

I had a few blog posts in queue. I spent a day at the High museum and I tried a new restaurant, but I couldn’t bring myself to actually write the posts. I had no motivation.

Truth is, I had no motivation because it’s fake. My life right now is not trying out new restaurants and going somewhere new every day. I’m not smiling though my journey of finding myself and my purpose. I’m going through what will probably be the worst time of my life. I’m fucking depressed. My blog is about the real shit I’m going though, not a review of a restaurant that you could’ve read on Yelp.

I broke down in my car and I really needed to feel genuine love. This is a time that I would’ve called one of my parents, but I can’t. They’re no longer here.

I called my best friend praying that she’d answer. She picked up, and trying to hold back my tears, I asked if I could come over.

On the way to her house, I tried listening to my happy playlist, to no avail. Then I decided to go with my feelings and listen to Charlene by Anthony Hamilton. Even though the song is about a romantic relationship, I heard the same sentiments in the latter half of the song that I feel toward my parents. I want them to come back to me.

I spent a few hours at my best friend’s house, we ate and watched Tinder Swindler and I felt so much better being around someone that I know truly cares about me. I wish that I could call on my parents, but this was the next best thing.

I realize now that sometimes it isn’t about things that are supposed to make people happy, sometimes just being surrounded by love is enough to get you out of a funk.

I’m learning to get out of the habit of feeling like I’m wasting my life if I’m not doing anything. I need to allow myself to just be in bed all day if that’s what I feel like doing. Self care isn’t always about having something to do and pushing yourself to enjoy life. Sometimes self care is simply allowing yourself to do nothing.