Diary Of A Mad Black Woman

Photo by Lucxama Sylvain from Pexels

I had an okay weekend. Drank a lot of alcohol and cried less than I did last week. It wasn’t until I turned on the tv to watch my favorite show. I looked at my avatar next to his and realized I should probably sign out and sign up for my own streaming service accounts. As I signed out of his Netflix and HBO Max, I lost it. I started bawling and re reading the email he sent me. Fuck, this shit sucks so bad. I created a “Get Over it, Bitch” playlist on Spotify that I have been listening to non stop. I started playing “Lost Without You” by Freda Ridings. That is the song they played in Power at Angela’s funeral. I have now listened to it five times in a row and I don’t see myself turning it off anytime soon. I keep looking at the soggy bowl of cereal next to me. I suddenly lost my appetite and don’t want it.

I have so much work to get done today, but it’s so hard to be productive. I wish I could just go to sleep until the pain is gone. If only I was a bear and it was hibernation time… I’m so glad that no one can see me right now. I look crazy from sleep deprivation and this Viola Davis snot nosed cry is making me look even worse. I keep seeing the same scene in my head… the episode with Will Smith and his dad. “How come he don’t want me man?” It sucks that is a question I will probably never get a real answer to.

Because it is still early I will try to force myself to get out of this funk and be productive. But we all know that is easier said that done… All I want to do is take a shot of Hennessey or make a mimosa. It really bothers me that the people that ruin people’s lives go on living their lives completely uninterrupted and unaffected. I’m supposed to be editing, doing my work deductions and being great, but no. This motherfucker got me over here unproductive and sad AF. Continue to think of me and pray for me. Clearly I’m still a mess, but hanging in there. At least I had my first cooked meal last week. I was eating out every single day, but I refuse. Because Like G Biz always tells me, can’t be the fat ex.

Signed,

-A continuously Angry Black Woman

P.S. Niggas ain’t shit.


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