By Ginny Mata @ginnymata
Today’s been a really rough day.
I couldn’t bring myself to eat anything at all. I was determined to spend the rest of the day feeling miserable, to fold into myself, to will myself to disappear.
But just now, when I opened my bedroom door, on the table, there were plates of toasted pandesal (bread of salt) from Kamuning Bakery, airfried corned beef with Jamaican oregano, and a jug of cold blue butterfly pea tea.
That was love expressed in the language my mother, Honey, knew I would respond to the best: through food. She was making sure to take care of me, her embattled, difficult 40-year-old only daughter who is going through the worst heartbreak of her life thus far, with my very young marriage of only three months coming to an abrupt, untimely end, by feeding me one of my childhood favorites.
One day at a time, I’m told.
As long as there’s love, good food, and RuPaul’s Drag Race, I think I’ll be OK.
#mentalhealth #livingwithms #everybrilliantthing #MadCovidDiaries
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. We ask that you seek our permission before you use any of our material – this includes researchers who want to harvest our data for analysis!