Another Year, Another Do-Over!

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Happy New Year!

It’s January 18th today and saying HNY! at this point in the year already feels old. But I guess one can get away with it if it’s the first time you’re encountering someone in the new year which in this case, the visitors of this blog.

The new year is usually a time for fresh starts; reviewing the previous year for any mishaps and shortcomings, setting new goals or resolutions (for those who still call them that) and designing a plan on how to best accomplish them. It’s akin to a second chance – only, time doesn’t stop. But if you disregard the time element, it is a perfect chance to redo the previous year – an opportunity to go at the goals again with renewed fervor and strength.

I felt guilty all of 2022 that this blog which is supposed to be my baby was for lack of a better word, abandoned. At some point, I got scared that WordPress would shut it down without my knowledge due to inactivity that I took up browsing on it and reading old articles – just to show the WordPress police (if there’s anything as such) that there was still some traffic on the site however little. How did get to this point, you may ask?

Well, little life update: I started a Master’s Degree in Information Technology and boy did I underestimate what it takes to complete an advanced degree. I always thought the hardest degree to obtain would be a Bachelor’s degree and I can’t even tell you how wrong that assumption was.

For starters, nobody cares whether or not you are working full time. I mean, I worked full time while completing my undergrad as well but the jobs were more physically tasking than they were mentally. So imagine working a job that’s mentally exhausting for over 40hrs a week and doing a graduate program that requires between 8 to 9 hrs of study a week. A typical assignment per course is a minimum of 6 pages which should be original work i.e no plagiarism (strictly enforced) and referencing all of your work. Then, there is a group research per course which requires you to coordinate times with other adults who are busy as well and whom depending, may or may not be as committed as you are – so now you have to chase after them to complete the project as it usually carries a huge chunk of the course grade. Speaking of grades, only As and Bs are allowed in graduate school, anything other results in academic discipline or worse, expulsion – who knew? Definitely not me.

So on-top of juggling this master’s program, I’ve been employed full time and working as a graduate research assistant too which I’ve been super grateful for as it helps with my tuition. Completing this degree and everything that has come with it so far has been the single most arduous thing I’ve ever set out to do. And so it is that I could barely find not only the time to write on here but neither the inspiration because all I wanted to do in my free time was be as far away from my lap top as possible.

That’s not to say I didn’t write at all. For the first time, I completed two short stories and entered them into writing contests. I may not make any shortlist but just completing them and even submitting were milestones I could only dream about. My graduate program has afforded me other writing avenues through the paper(s) I wrote about the research I’m working on. One of those papers was published in a prestigious computer conference and I also got a chance to present at that conference although virtually. I can finally call myself a writer! 🙂

I’m back now ( cracking myself up at this) and although I’m in my second / final year of graduate school which will be even tougher, I like to think I’ve gotten a hang of it or have a flow to it. So I can ‘safely‘ get back to the blog – operating word is safely. i.e make time for it so work – which brings me income and school – where grades need to be maintained do not suffer.

I do have a lot I want to share this year – from my online dating adventures, to the nightmarish matchmaking some friends engaged in, school groups from hell, crushing on my professors, struggling with classes, difficult family situations, mental health, the royal family (yes, I can’t pass up a fab opportunity for content) and a ton more.

How was your 2022? Was it all that you hoped for? Did you have any resolutions and if so, did you meet them? Do you have any for 2023? As always, I’m more than grateful for the few of you who follow my blog and take the time to read and even react to the post. It means so much to me and I do not take it for granted. Thank you again for stopping by and here’s to hoping that 2023 is our best year yet.

XOXO, Tiramisu!

2020 in Review

Happy New Year!!

2020…the year that WAS! We are now 27 days into the new year and while most of us feel hopeful, it feels like more of the same. I can’t think of any other time in memory when an entire year was collectively bad for everyone as 2020 was. The bad news just wouldn’t let up.

2020 welcomed us quite eerily in January with the death of Kobe Bryant whom no one could have guessed if asked to. Shocking to think that it’s been a year already since his unfortunate demise including others on that ill-fated flight. He had impacted not only the world of sports but millions of people around the world whom he inspired to dream and work hard to achieve. His death if only we knew, was a premonition of things to come in a year that was full of twist and turns of the worse kind imaginable.

Then we got launched into a pandemic that has and is still devastating so many lives – not only claiming loved ones but leaving so many homeless, jobless and driving millions into depression and suicide. As if the punch wasn’t hard enough, our national heroes and treasures died as well. Who knew Chadwick – The Black Panther would be gone in 2020? or John Lewis? And so many others.

I’ve always been an anxious person but the events of last year sent me into a near panic attack. The uncertainty brought on by the pandemic compounded by an election year like no other was nerve-wracking. Watching the news always filled me with a certain dread – if it wasn’t the politicians insulting each other in ads, it was the shootings on the rise and the fear of experiencing blatant racism for no reason.

Then, simply going grocery shopping seemed like a suicide mission – wearing a mask but still being afraid of the unknown. Each of us looking at the next person skeptically wondering if they are a carrier of the virus – knowingly or unknowingly.

Yet, here we are – 27 days into the new year and we are not better-off; if only slightly than we were last year. 2021 looks to be more of a continuation of 2020 with new variants of the virus discovered every week thus far. And the attempted siege at the capitol on January 6 may be a foreshadowing of what is to come.

But I’m hopeful for 2021 regardless. And although i didn’t make any new year resolutions this year (gave up on them a long time ago), I’m choosing to be positive. I’m usually a skeptic with vaccines as i know a lot of people are as well but I’m committed to do my part to eradicate this virus. I’m trusting that a lot of people will too and put us in a better place by fall this year.

I pray that with the activism of last year and beyond, that real change begins to happen in our communities where we are more sensitive to each other’s plight, more empathetic and kind to one another. That we will seek to add joy whenever we have a chance and embrace our differences in love.

I’m committed especially to find the happiness all around me and hope you are too. Because if there’s one thing this virus has taught us all, it is – that time indeed waits for no one. So let’s not wait to be happy – to buy our dream car or home, go on a vacation or get into a relationship to be happy. Happiness is all around us, we make happiness and we should choose to see and revel in it.

I wish us all a happier, healthier and kinder 2021. Hip Hip hip…

An African In Session.

I talked about finding one’s self in the last post (still in the search), but that’s not the only thing I have been up to these last weeks. If you have been following my blog, then you should know that I lost my older sister in the summer of last year. Recently, I have not been able to stop thinking about her and it almost feels as though I am grieving anew. You should also by now that I have been struggling with my weight since before the inception of this blog. So between finding myself, battling with my never-ending weight issues and grieving for my sister, I was becoming depressed.

I remember two days in row last month when I lost interest in everything; even in my studies which I believed was the one thing I would never loose interest in. To the point of not studying enough for an upcoming test that week and sitting for that test knowing full well I wasn’t prepared. Needless to say I flunked in magnanimous proportions on that test; proportions that have never been associated with me before. Yet, I “didn’t give ” a flying fish.

Not caring whether I failed an exam or not really scared me. I had read that loosing interest in the things that one cared a lot for in the past were tell-tale signs of imminent depression. Knowing that it could lead to something dangerous if not addressed sooner, I emboldened myself and made an appointment to see a counselor at school. You might ask why embolden?

For starters, if you missed it on my about page, then you should know I am Cameroonian from Central Africa. As per my culture, talking to ‘shrinks’ is absolutely unacceptable. Africans ‘believe’ that we don’t need to be sharing our problems with random strangers and if there’s anything to talk about, then a family meeting would be just fine to take care of that. I’d be honest that I did ascribe to these ideologies at some point, but living in America these many years later, I have a different perspective. I understand the importance of having that neutral person to open up to, who wouldn’t judge you and who is just listening to you pour your heart out. I think it is a really beautiful thing which is one of the reasons I started writing too and have not revealed my identity yet. Because I believe there’s some power that anonymity provides and allows you to speak from the heart unlike when you are familiar with your audience.

Despite all this knowledge, I had to talk myself into keeping the appointment because a part of me still thought it odd to talk to a complete stranger about my feelings. So I had to convince myself that fulfilling this was very important and so it was that I found myself face to face with a counselor.

After basic introductions, we both sat down across from each other and he asked me why I felt the need to see a counselor. A few minutes passed between us before either one said anything. Then he repeated himself and I blurted out an awkward laugh. Thankfully, he was very gracious to recognize that my nerves were getting the better part me. More time lapsed before I could muster the courage to talk and speak freely.

It was one of the most freeing experiences I have had in a long time and I wondered why I hadn’t done it sooner. It felt good sitting there , pouring my heart out to an unassuming person and for them to encourage me to talk about the feelings that I was even oblivious to these weeks. Things I thought I had forgotten reared their ugly heads again and things I didn’t even know existed where just lying in a corner waiting for the ‘right’ time to surface.  The session lasted for an hour and by the end, I must have cried a river because my face was all puffed up from the constant streaming of tears and my nose was blocked.

He suggested I return for a follow-up session and again I was hesitant. Going back would mean I have a fully manifested problem which needed fixing, which would mean I needed fixing, which would mean I am broken. But I don’t believe I am broken, let alone that I needed fixing. It took a bit of convincing on his part for me to agree on a second session. I understood from him that the ‘stigma’ about therapy isn’t reserved to Africans only but even to some western folks whose issue with it is the ‘fixing’.

I know Christians might say well, you have God to talk to, to which I say God in the scriptures encourages us to confess our sins to one another. The act of confessing things to someone else in itself is a form of counseling. And I know of a lot of Christians who could really use some counseling in their life but are either ashamed to go for it or are being to hard on themselves for their faith not being enough. (this deserves it’s own post in entirety.) It has little do to with your faith and more about your mind-frame. Your mind might be attacking itself and making it hard for you to accept the grace that your faith provides and this is where a counselor is very helpful.

What are your views on attending counseling? If for, have you been and what was your experience like and if against, why? As always, thank you for stopping by and I love you for it.

Have a sunny peachy day.