I am not gon' lie. Election season has hit me with a cyclone of emotions—astonishment, nervousness, frustration, and honestly the list goes on (cue the emotional wheel). 

BUT ELECTION NIGHT!!! Whew, I felt like I got hit with a two-piece—no warning, no mercy.

S/N: I do not condone violence, and I’m definitely not a violent person (but don’t push me). Still, I figured this visual hit harder than I could ever explain. And yes, the pun was definitely intended.

HERE'S THE THING: Yes, I planned to lay low on November 5, 2024 (after I early voted... of course)  because I knew the day wouldn’t feel normal. Plus, Wednesdays are my usual “off” days, so I thought I was all set with my self-care plan of chilling for a few days.  

🤦🏾‍♀️ Girl… I MADE ALL THE NECESSARY PROVISIONS, and it didn’t hit me until I was in the plan what I was actually planning for!!!!

It was all so I could actually "feel" my real feelings (the sensations that came along with the emotions) —even though I had no clue what those feelings might be.

Turns out it felt like a strange, heavy energy—a dull intensity quietly inviting me to spiral. It nudged me to the edge of a bottomless pit, making me stare down the barrel, already foreseeing my fall.

I was proud of myself for knowing enough to create the space… but admitting that I still had to sort through the sensations and feelings, and actually make meaning of them? Yeah, that part was tough.

My feelings were shaping out to be a weird math equation of:

Disillusionment or Surprise + Disappointment = Loss of Hope (aka Depression)

And I couldn’t fake it. I couldn’t shove it down. I couldn’t slap a smile on it, and I definitely couldn’t be delusional about it.  Plus… I really be out here making sure I WALK IT LIKE I TALK IT.

So yeah, I needed those days. I had to feel my feelings—no running, no hiding. I sat in the discomfort and leaned on my tools to create space for it: walking mindfully, talking to emotionally safe friends, sharing my real feelings. I went to therapy. I let myself cry, let others see me cry, and owned it. No apologies, no excuses—just human.

I let the discomfort exist, and guess what? I did not lean into my fear of getting stuck in those feelings. I ended up doing what I needed to gain the mental clarity to make a crucial decision—not to spiral into depression. NO SHAME. NO GUILT. NO JUDGEMENT. 

It worked. I feel better. Not 100%, because let’s be real, the situation is still messed up. But I tapped in and processed it.

And yes, I was shooketh. And yes, I’m still disappointed. And come January… I’ll probably be triggered all over again.

But I’m here NOW, speaking from a place of clarity. S/N: And even if I had jumped into the pit, I’d still have to use many of the same steps. I’d just have to lean into whole-heartedly embracing smaller increments of improvement, knowing I wouldn’t hit 100% immediately. It’d mean rinse and repeat—over and over—while also finding new tools and resources to help me along the way. 

BUT!!! This isn’t just about me—it’s about us. We must truly see and hear ourselves, even when the world around us is pure chaos.

We need to keep carving out space for our emotions, our experiences, and our ability to internally resource (and no, I’m not talking about throwing on the Superwoman cape). I mean, just being human—letting our feelings and emotions be present, moving with their natural ebb and flow.

PLEASE. PLEASE. SHARE THIS WITH OTHER BLACK WOMEN. AND HAVE THEM SUBSCRIBE:  https://www.dockedships.com/stress-crisis-african-american-women-health

At Dock Ships, we see "a future where African American women achieve social health & enjoy maximum wellness. 

#CAPEOFFLIVEON

Sharell D. Cannady, CEO of Docked Ships