Reprise: Itty Bitty Bombs

Reprise: 2015 was probably the best year I had—had in about a three year time span. I was coming out of my hardest fight with depression, I finally felt focused mentally and I decided to make a big change in my academic journey (change programs). I felt like I was finally winning at my own life.

And then life happened.

It threw me into a spiral of self-doubt. I looked up and I felt like everyone had grown leaps and bounds around me. While I had been cocooned in the hallows of my dark place, everyone else seemed to have flourished. I had friends starting entrepreneurial endeavors, blogs that were more popular than mine, buying houses, getting married, having babies, buying new cars, traveling all over the world and seemingly living their best life. And I was in my parent’s garage trying to figure out if I’d ever make enough money to live the way I want to live based on the academic choices I made. I questioned if I had wasted all of this time at a costly university that I didn’t get nearly as much scholarship money as I thought I would—and came out in debt, black and female. Oh and single. Well I can tell you all this, those bombs I packed away, the ones I swore I would stop hurling at myself—I opened that box and launched a full-on nuclear attack. Only this time, I had better aim. I knew the exact things to aim at—I never missed a mark. You’re not good enough (bomb). You’re never going to be small enough (bomb). You know he played you (bomb). What are you doing at work? You’re going to be stuck in a fruitless career forever (bomb). Explosions. Cuts. Bruises. Gashes. Bullet wounds. I had no mercy—on myself. I slipped right back into that hole and it took me the better part of a year to crawl my way out of it.

People who know me—like see the day to day me, they probably would never know. I am confident in being able to show what I want shown. I laugh at the right things and I compartmentalize better than anyone I know. Most people don’t want to hear that you’re having a horrible day on the inside. As long as you show up and you’re what they need you to be for them—it works. That is just life. The people who know you, like on the inside—they know. They try to water you. They try to say the right things and pray for you. And that helps. (Please know that it helped.) But it’s the work I did on the inside—by myself. That started then and it still going now—today. When I decided to dress my wounds, pack up the last of the arsenal and throw it away. That is when the healing began. But that starts and stops with me. No one can give you that. After all, you’re the one at war with your self. You can wave the white flag and it can stop at any time. You’re the one who wins or loses. Just depends on what side of the war you WANT to be on. I decided to win. It’s a constant battle everyday. I know where to get more bombs—but I decide not to—I decide that waging war on myself isn’t worth not even the battle anymore. It’ll never be easy—but peace is always worth it.

If you care to know what prompted the reprise of Itty Bitty Bombs from 2015, it’s the fact that today I almost decided to throw a grenade. I almost started the war, but I’ve worked too hard to go back there, and I felt like someone else may have needed to read this too.

Know that you will always have an ally in me. If you would like to read the original post I placed it below.

April, 2015



I'm twenty freaking five and I live at home. BOMB dropped. I'm twenty freaking five and I'm single. BOMB dropped. I'm twenty freaking five and I am not waking up to my dream job everyday. BOMB dropped. I'm twenty freaking five and I still have drunken nights that I can't remember. BOMB dropped. I'm twenty freaking five and I don't know if I'm even making a dent in this world. BOMB dropped.


These itty bitty bombs get dropped everyday. Everyday I question some aspect of my being. Everyday I wonder if I said that right, if I hurt that person's feelings, if my shirt was too tight and you can see my love handles, if I drank too much and was too honest to that one guy or if I'm appreciative enough to the people in my life that give a damn. Every. DAMN. Day. I sprinkle these itty bitty bombs through the hemispheres of my brain and drop them down like Hiroshima. I am constantly at war with myself. I am constantly critiquing and judging myself. These itty bitty bombs pile up and I drop them over all of my good qualities. I'm cute and smart--but I'm not skinny (itty bitty bomb). I'm hard working and tenacious--but I'm not one of those 20 something millionaires we read about (itty bitty bomb). I'm loving and nurturing--but I am single (itty bitty bomb). I negate all of these awesome qualities with my itty bitty bombs, that I only seem to believe truly exist in all of my friends and Victoria Secret Models.


Why? Why do I bomb myself? Why do I let doubt creep into my mind causing self-esteem suicide? Why? I don't know why. (If you've figured this out please let me know) But I have figured out that it's a) not safe to carry around these itty bitty bombs and b) you're only going to keep hurting yourself if you do. It's just not healthy. We all have sucky qualities about ourselves BUT we have even more good ones! Focus on the good and work towards either changing or accepting the bad ones. No one is perfect. NOT ONE PERSON. And expecting perfection from yourself is majorly unhealthy because it's just not achievable. So work with whatever you have and stop dropping bombs on yourself. (Try not to throw any either--we all have our own shit we're dealing with we don't need someone attacking us!).


Have a great work week 20 Somethings and remember, make peace not war--with yourself!




Brandis Haynes