Tag Archives: image

Mental Health

i have blogging anxiety.

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Strangely enough, my blog has become an anxiety-inducing factor in my life. I think I put a lot of pressure on myself to have perfect posts uploaded at the same time every day, hash-tagging everything to gain as much exposure as I can. I may have lost my passion for blogging, just that quickly, because of the pressure I put on myself. Blogging has now become sort of a dreaded thing. Unwritten posts seem like mountains maybe I can’t climb today. My head is just not in the space for (daily) blogging.

I started this blog to speak about my mental health, to be honest with what audience I had, to share my life, and to speak openly about my psoriasis. But maybe I placed myself in a box–a limitation that I can only speak about those things. And this past week, I haven’t really been up to speaking about my struggles, because in the previous weeks, I’ve been trying to heal from my own trauma. I think my niche of being a mental health blogger has overwhelmed me in that I feel like I can only talk about mental health. Or that I can only talk about chronic health.

For the past few days, I’ve been placing my energy in the hands of God, and I’d like to share my journey with you. But I feel like that I can’t, because I’ve created this platform of “The Psoriasis Club,” where my content only has to be about psoriasis.

I’ve also come to terms that I’m fishing for the same nostalgia that my previous lifestyle blog used to bring me. I’m putting pressure on myself to regain that following and happiness that I used to have with that blog. I thought about how I keep forcing myself to start at zero instead of just taking a break and continuing from where I was before. There is no rule saying that you can’t pick up back where you left off. There is no rule saying you have to start over every time. I left my old blog for memories sake. It was a dark time for me, while writing on that blog, because I was chronicling every aspect of my life openly…and it’s something I’d like to forget. I’d figure I’d get a fresh start with a new blog, but this one is starting to overwhelm me. I don’t have the drive and passion anymore, because I was lying to myself that I could reach the same “blogging Nirvana” as my old blog, which came from a genuine place that just so happened to gain a little following. My Twitter too. Everything about the engagement from that blog was authentic. On that Twitter, I gained over 1,000 followers–close to 2,000. Whereas now, I’m struggling to reach above 200.

I know we shouldn’t put worth on our follower count (and I spoke about that here ), but I get angry at myself for building up something and dedicating myself to creating a community, then deactivate my accounts because those seem to get to be too much, and then I abandon them to make a new one. I feel like most people have social media accounts and keep only one forever. But me, each new account gives me a chance to escape from who I truly am, and create a persona that I think people will like…instead of just accepting who I actually am.

I don’t know when I’ll log back in and make a new post. Or if I just need to stop hiding behind these new accounts over and over again. I’ve been on a journey of reading my Bible daily and creating Bible studies for myself, and that’s something I very much am enjoying right now. Maybe I’ll make a “Christian” category or maybe I will pop up again on the internet as someone new that you won’t be able to recognize, with a new URL and social media.

No matter my choice, I hope you stick with me.

-TPC

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Mental Health

my self-image story

When I was a teenager, I thought I had to look like this–because looking like this equated to beauty, perfection, and success.

Photo by Laura Chouette on Unsplash

My high school years were doused in the obsession with British YouTubers, like Zoe Sugg and Niomi Smart who seemed to have it all together–proper businesswomen in blazers and a full face of makeup. While I was watching their seemingly-perfect lives, I was hating myself for not looking like them.

My skin is not porcealian like theirs. I’m African-American with Native American descendants, so I certainly don’t look like them. My hair isn’t silky smooth, tamed by products catered for those with their hair type. Clothing from high end brands just seemed unrealistic and unaffordable to wear through the hallways of high school. They always seemed to find their perfect shade of foundation, boasting about how Tarte’s Shape-Tape foundation was perfect for them, while people of color struggled to find a shade that wasn’t an ashy orange.

I forced myself to change, trying to fit their mold. I would browse the racks of Forever 21 in attempt to find something close to Zoella’s cozy knit sweaters or floral rompers, when my comfortable style consisted of graphic tees and jeans. I forced myself to spend more time on pounding a beauty blender into my skin, rather than on my mental health. I forced myself to become more feminine, not only to be like them, but to seek apporoval from everyone else.

Because the British YouTubers had such a success back in the early 2010s, venturing off on sponsored trips to Dubai or receiving free makeup kits from the brands us non-YouTubers poured our money into, it placed me in a mindset that the only way to even feel an ounce of happiness (or obtain an ounce of their riches) was to act like them. Only recently have POC YouTubers spoken out about the unfairness creators of color experience, particularly on trips sponsored by brands that are claiming to cater to anyone of any race.

Like, Dote. You’ve heard this story quite a few times, but that doesn’t make what Danielle Perkins had to go through any less valid. Below is what it is like to experience racial privlege in a social setting. It’s important to understand that this is not a fun situation to be in. I’ve experienced this first- hand through many of my school years. Honestly, it was pretty triggering watching this video because it was hauntingly familiar.

Now, things are starting to shift different. With more POC females being represented in mainstream media, such as Halle Bailey being casted as Ariel, there’s less pressure to try and look like someone you’re not. Instead, there’s more of an embrace to be someone that you are.

I would like to create a skin-confident version of this post about how having psoriasis affected my self-image. Let me know if that’s something you’d like to see.

Love always,

-TPC

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