How Natural Light Is Positively Affecting My Mood

On the tail-end of a recent move, I’m basking in light

Our living room space — open, airy, and full of natural light. That’s Jernee Timid photobombing because that’s what she does best! Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

I awakened this morning to a pool of emotions — overwhelmed by their presence, I called my job and reported the absence I knew I would be taking. Last year, I had several emotional breakdowns, and much of the therapy I had become so used to applying to everyday life dwindled between my fingers and lifted itself away from my mind and body. 

I was crumbling.

Because of the incredible shift in my mental health and my heart after experiencing a loss I never thought I would encounter, I applied for FMLA through my job. It took months of convincing from my supervisor and one of my Work Force Managers for me to actually have it sink in that I needed relief.

I needed to be open and honest enough that I could not continue to press forward with the intensity of work I had been pushing myself through while trying to grieve. I wanted to be able to write my way through it — to grieve pleasantly and intact. 

But there’s no such thing as grieving pleasantly or remaining intact when there is a loss as deep and as heavy as the loss of my older cousin (who was much like a mother to me). I spent much of 2022 hating every single month without her until November. 

The struggles of living life without her were still fresh and weighty, but the days did not feel like Mack trucks driving over my body — crushing me in real-time. I was beginning to experience other emotions instead of anger and pain. I was moving through acceptance, understanding, and trusting the design of this world — even if it meant not having my cousin in it. 

And even though I was striding toward digging myself out of a deep pit, some days still hit me harder than most. This being the case, I applied for FMLA in late January of 2023 and was approved in March of 2023. Five months later, I am using my first day as a leave of absence.

Let me reiterate … five months later … the first day of leave is being used. I have had days of PTO that I have requested prior to as commitments to doctors’ visits or the monitoring of my sight, but to actually wake up knowing I would not be 100% mentally available and take the time approved for me to use, I had not used since its approval date. 


More Professional Responsibility Leads Me To Care Less About Myself

Today is the end of a 4-week training commitment I acquired. After training five new hires (at once), witnessing their graduation yesterday, and knowing they are equipped with the tools they need to venture out into the radiology scheduling world, I can breathe easier. I was informed earlier this week of the possibility of them getting to log out and go home early from the office, and I beamed with pride.

Part of me wanted to be able to be available for them today remotely and the other part spoke louder — you need to rest. You just moved and you immediately hit the ground running again as if you did not need more time off. They will log off early anyway. You’ve done your job. 

So, as you may have guessed, I am listening to the other part of me. I have to.

Late yesterday evening, I had all intentions of getting up this morning, logging on to take calls, and being available for the trainees, but I could not get past the emotional hold on my body and my heart. 

As much as I did not want to — the fight between my two selves took place and I begrudgingly pushed the weight of more responsibility to the side and decided to take care of myself first for once in a long time.


The Light of the World Exists In My Living Room

On the tail-end of a recent move, I’m basking in light. To help with my emotional imbalance, I am sitting in one of the spaces in our new home that provides me with plenty of natural light and peacefulness — two things I welcome with open arms.

I had been a black-out and dark curtains person for such a long time, and deciding to allow God’s sunlight into my home in every corner is doing wonders for my mood. And on a day like today, I am more aware of the necessity of it.

Our living room space from another angle. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

I have four plants that I love and adore just as much as Jernee. Their names: Dora, Lyric, Sage, and Jupiter. They have their own little space in the corner closest to Jernee’s resting space and our balcony door, under my artwork display of birds. 

While resting in this spot of our home, I am overcome with a variety of beauty and more chances to appreciate what natural light, an open layout, hardwood laminate floors, and color can do for the mind. My mood is enhanced in a positive way and moments of pure joy tap me on my shoulders.

Jernee prances around yet keeps close to me as well. She can sense I am a bit off-kilter — protective mode is on. I am grateful for this, too — her own little version of light for me.

I knew we needed a change. I knew that I could not, would not continue to give my hard-earned money to an organization that refused to carry out its clause when I signed a lease with them five years ago. If I was going to pay the amount of money I was paying, I needed to see and feel the reasons why.

And here, I have my reasons. 


Having A Sense of Peace During Rough Times Is Priceless

I do not know what the rest of the day will provide for me — how I’ll move through the overwhelmingness of emotions, and what I will do to further help me get through, but I am thankful for the beginning stages of peace.

I will not take any of this for granted. As I feel more tears readying themselves to trickle down my cheeks, I am grateful for them, too. Being vulnerable when I need to be and accepting the integrity of a grieving mind and its influence whenever it pops up can be motivators. 

I welcome peace. I know it will be the end result of doing what I needed to do when I needed to do it.


Originally published in soliloque via Medium.

Tina (A repost)

A Haibun

Tina Turner, image from Smooth Radio

I have decided to give you your flowers while you’re still here. A wonder–a mystic amongst Gods and the ungodly. You have always been captivating. I never wanted to sing. I never wanted to dance. But I have always wanted to write, and you paved the way for me to have this voice–my voice in a world of chaotic flows and shiftless thoughts. You have conquered a sea of endless pain and lived to testify.

Millions of people sing your songs at the top of their lungs–breaths poured into the air that land at your feet. We still stand in awe of you; so incredibly in love with you, we speak your name . . . Tina.

Legends can be born
To be what legends should be
You are so much more


And now, one of my favorite Tina Turner songs.

Tina Turner, What’s Love Got To Do With It?

I wrote this poem and shared it here on November 26, 2022, when this amazing Queen was still breathing. She still lives. She always will. Rest in Power.

NaPoWriMo #17

43

Playing with the camera. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

birthday tip-toed into
the morning sun shadows, greeted me with open arms,
and begged me to get
up and play with it.

one more year is here to
plaster me in hope and grind
me down to a newer version
of myself I’ve been shelving for
decades.

I tell it I’ll surrender under
one condition, and that’s if
it’ll give me fifteen minutes
in a room with my dead
cousin, unbothered by a
world that keeps shifting
with every breath I take.

it’s an interrogation of sorts;
how I attempt to negotiate
getting older and being
happy while doing it, instead
of drowning myself in
sadness.

“I’m better now.
I’m healing.
I’m giving myself the
grace everyone says I
should.”

and time is offering me
an extended contract
with every bell and whistle
I prayed for, and I don’t
know if I should sign.

but there’s hope for
me yet.
I’ve made it to 43, and
I do not feel the same.

“This is good”, I tell
myself.
“This is very good.”

(w) h o l e

Pictured Poetry created by Tremaine L. Loadholt

(w) h o l e

“You have a hole in
your heart where Chrissy
used to be” my therapist says to me, and
I think about the French, and how
they don’t say, “I miss you,”
instead, they say, “You are
missing from me.”

she has a point.
I’ve had a stream of
great days in a row, but
a moment snuck up on
me this afternoon, and I
fell into the grasp of deep
grief again.

and I miss you.
I miss you.
I miss you.
and it’s true, you are
missing from me, too.