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.

Saying Goodbye to The Grieving Room

For those of you who subscribed to The Grieving Room newsletter and have followed me throughout this journey for the past four months, thank you.

Grief is a lifelong process with many obstacles and various structures and forms and I doubt there will ever be an endpoint, but I feel as though the newsletter itself deserves an endpoint.

There will always be something creative flowing within me to work through grieving, whether it be poetry, creative non-fiction, or a memoir-like essay, but at this time, I have shared what I can and I will continue to learn what I can about grief and grieving and grow with every experience.

If you recently subscribed, you can find all entries in the links below via LinkedIn or Medium.

Thank you for coming along on this journey with me. It will not stop, but I am headed down a new path and this is my place to get off and possibly transfer.

Peace and blessings.

LinkedIn or Medium.

The Grieving Room

Dressed in Red. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

Finding peace at every turn and growing at my own pace

If I can be honest, this past week has been a great week for me — overall, one of the best I have had in several months. I am overjoyed to see these words typed on-screen. There were some stressful points at work, but the fantastic team I am a part of makes things much better. We all jump right in and ride the waves of the slew of calls we get, and everyone is so supportive.

It beats swimming alone when you know the tide will be at its highest. It beats chipping away at a mountain when you know you still haven’t reached its peak. It beats running away from something when all it takes is patience, prayer, and perseverance.

I am enjoying the drop in temperatures over the past few days. There is a cool breeze in the morning and at night, and the sun is not trying to body slam me into submission during the day.

This tells me — autumn is in the air, and I am here for it! It is one of my favorite seasons. I look forward to dressing in layers, drinking hot cocoa, making stews and crockpot soups, and cuddling under my favorite blanket with Jernee.

Peace is moving in steadily, and I invite it with open arms.


A moment to relax and enjoy a favorite pastime

Last night, Friday, August 12, 2022, I watched Dog Gone Trouble via Netflix. After I’d rid myself of the workday, walked Jernee, ate dinner, and snuggled up with the Little Monster in my favorite chair, I switched on Netflix for what has become a favorite pastime of mine — ending my workdays with laughter and animated goodness or enjoying a weekend bonanza of all things kid-friendly.

My happy place is a space for all ages, yet I am content experiencing it alone.

This movie had so many high points for me and, of course, a lesson I believe most adults could benefit from, especially nowadays. Just in case you’re interested, the trailer is below.

Dog Gone Trouble. Netflix ©2021.

I will give you a bit of a spoiler — the dancing tree squirrels will have you laughing your head off with the leader’s crazy amount of phrasings, including the word “nuts.” Trouble (the dog) actually says on more than one occasion — and I am paraphrasing — “This just sounds so inappropriate.”

If you love to laugh, enjoy cartoons or animated movies, and have about one hour and 30 minutes to spare, then give yourself the gift of Dog Gone Trouble. It’s worth it.


Comfort foods and their impact

Sunday, August 06, 2022, I made one of my favorite comfort foods. There’s nothing truly special about it — it’s made with delicious and basic ingredients and will also allow you to have leftovers for at least two to three days after you have prepared it.

What is it, Tre? you ask. I call it “hearty beef dip.” You can substitute the meat for any other meat you’d like: ground chicken, ground turkey, or ground pork. After adding cheese sauce and shredded cheese, light red kidney beans, onions, and chopped spinach, what you get is a feast in your mouth as you dip corn chips into this hearty goodness.

An animated image of hearty beef deep and corn chips.
Hearty beef dip & Chips. Gif created by Tremaine L. Loadholt

I learned about this basic yet filling meal from my best friend almost twenty years ago. It has been a staple in my home since then. I do not have the meal often — perhaps once every other month. But I always look forward to making it. My stomach does too.


Growing at my pace and it feels good

Soon, I will partake in something completely out of my comfort zone and new to me. I am shaking as I type this very paragraph for this newsletter, but something has moved me recently to continue to step out of my comfort zone. And doing so has gotten me to a calmer place.

This cannot be a coincidence.

If I attack or stare down fear and take it head-on, the things I avoided doing seem less scary.

I have more research to do, some basic contact emails to send, and becoming one with this new venture as I learn more about it.

*Fingers crossed I will have good news in the coming weeks*

Ever since I was a child I have had this instinctive urge for expansion and growth. To me, the function and duty of a quality human being is the sincere and honest development of one’s potential. — Bruce Lee


Welcome to The Grieving Room. I am here. You are here. We are not alone in this.

See you next Saturday.


©2022 Tremaine L. Loadholt Originally published in The Grieving Room newsletter via LinkedIn.

The Grieving Room

Summer Trees Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

Pictures tell the stories we can’t seem to share

I had one rollercoaster of a week. Work was hectic until Thursday afternoon. We had major issues with our phones and there had also been some connectivity issues which made our jobs extremely difficult. When your main priority is to answer phones and schedule patients for radiology scans and invasive procedures, not being able to effectively and efficiently do this for nearly a week had been mind-altering … and not in a good way.

I don’t know what had me on the verge of breaking down on Wednesday afternoon— it could have been the frustration of dealing with the issues with the phones and software or the weather (it has been raining off and on here for nearly two straight weeks), but I felt a weight overcome me that I just couldn’t shake.

Thankfully, I was keying in contact letters for unresponsive patients and had a moment to allow the tears to flow. 

When this form of emotion hits me out of nowhere, the first thing I want to do is … text or call my cousin. It is still hard for me to force myself into the action of not thinking about her to call or text — I am trying but it is far too hard to remove from my mind.

I often wish there was a switch — one I could flick off — one I could use to remove the thought from my mind so that it never occurs again because when it happens, the sea of sadness becomes my wading pool.

I am moving through it all as best as I can. One thing is for certain, I am glad the workweek is behind me.


A few photographs and a visit with one’s mom can renew the spirit

One thing that did help me through this week had been taking pictures of various things that make me happy or cause me to pause and reflect on life’s happenings for just a moment. The following photos are the results from this past week.

Summer Trees 2 Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt. 1 of two (the cover photo is also one) photos taken during a morning walk with Jernee from this past week.
Summer Trees 2 Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt. 1 of two (the cover photo is also one) photos taken during a morning walk with Jernee from this past week.
Jernee Timid, relaxing on the floor at my mom’s house. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
Jernee Timid, relaxing on the floor at my mom’s house. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
Jernee Timid in her car seat on the ride home from visiting my mom. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
Jernee Timid in her car seat on the ride home from visiting my mom. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
Cloudy Pool. I snapped this shot coming up the stairs of my building. Another cloudy day — just before the rain. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
Cloudy Pool. I snapped this shot coming up the stairs of my building. Another cloudy day — just before the rain. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
My mom’s plant — in the hallway of her building. I have no clue what type of plant this is. I just love it. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
My mom’s plant — in the hallway of her building. I have no clue what type of plant this is. I just love it. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

To shake some of the “stank” off me from this past workweek, I took a trip to Greensboro, North Carolina, to spend some time with my mom. Visiting my mom allowed both me and Jernee to truly kick back and relax at her place while we gave her our utmost attention. 

After dealing with everything that took place this past week, seeing her face and listening to her talk 100 mph did my entire being some good. 

I think Jernee agrees too.


Appreciating the beauty all around me

Now that the past week is behind me and a few emotional moments have been curbed, I am bracing myself for whatever is to come for the rest of this weekend. 

I don’t plan on doing too much for the rest of the day, and the only things I intend to do for tomorrow are to wash my hair and cook dinner (I am still thinking about what I will make). Aside from the normal little things I do on Sunday, these will be the only two add-ons.

I have enjoyed looking up, around, and within my line of sight to capture God’s creations, however major or simple. Sometimes we need pictures to tell the stories we cannot seem to share. I think the photos above have epic tales to tell. Don’t you?

“A good snapshot keeps a moment from running away.” ― Eudora Welty


Welcome to The Grieving Room. I am here. You are here. We are not alone in this.

©2022 Tremaine L. Loadholt Originally published in The Grieving Room newsletter via LinkedIn.