My name is Bree, and I’m a procrastinator.

Say it with me… “Hi, Bree!”

I planned on posting this a while ago, but… you know.

Lol. Seriously, though. I feel like I’ve been a horrible procrastinator when it comes to There are so many things I have planned for this little ole blog. I just haven’t been motivated to get them done. I really need to get off my duff.

It’s weird, because I’m not like this with any other aspect of my life.

I think I need some inspiration.

What inspires you?

Thoughts on Mental Illness and a Confession

Confession: A few years ago, I was diagnosed with depression. Since my diagnosis, I’ve been on antidepressants, to control it.  When I look back at the time before I sought help, I was probably definitely depressed long before then. I always think about all the mental strife I could’ve avoided, if I’d just talked to my doctor earlier. If I hadn’t been ashamed.

When I see all these news stories about people who suffer with mental illness, doing illegal and/or dangerous things – it makes me wonder if they’d gotten the help they needed, would they still have done what they did? Could lives have been saved?

I truly believe that if we erased the stigma of mental illness, more people would seek professional help.

Black Girls Don’t Cry

Depression is not a Sign of Weakness

According to the National Alliance of Mental Illness (NAMI), only 12 percent of African American women living with depression seek help and/or treatment.

You see, as black women, we’re supposed to be strong. You know, the ones who “keep it together,” when everything, and everyone, is falling apart.

Also, for so long things like depression, bi-polar and schizophrenia were considered “the white woman’s” problem. And, seeking professional help seen as a weakness, or a lack of belief in the “God heals” train of thought. I mean, our ancestors went through slavery, and we’re “whining about being a little sad?” Hell, the diseases themselves aren’t even seen as sicknesses, but weaknesses.

Believe me, I know how hard it is to admit you need help. And, even harder to seek it out.

Don’t even get me started on the prejudices and stigma that surround mental illness – especially in the black community.

From NAMI:

While Caucasian women experience depression more often, African American and Caribbean women experience greater severity and persistence. The National Survey of American Life: a study of racial, ethnic and cultural influences on mental disorders and mental health, provided evidence of communities holding on to long legacies of secrets, lies and shame originating from slavery. Avoiding emotions was a survival technique which has now become a cultural habit. Five reasons a majority of the population withheld information on illness included:

  • might hurt the family
  • might ruin their career
  • people might think they are crazy
  • they cannot afford to appear weak; and
  • shame.

Societal issues also factor into a higher percentage of African American women experiencing depression. Being both female and African American can make a person more vulnerable to negative attitudes and behavior. This gender crisis is important in pinpointing depression among the African American population. To serve others in the community, family and others often leaves these women unable to relax or sleep.

Body image also affects women of color, creating a cascade of events: Others may believe the stereotype portrayed by the media of African Americans as curvaceous and sensual. However, for every curvaceous celebrity there are millions of women who do not match this body profile. For some, food then acts as a comfort, serves as protection and results in overeating and sometimes, eating disorders.

While major depression can be devastating and overwhelming, it is highly treatable. Roughly 80-90 percent of people diagnosed can be effectively treated and return to their usual daily activities and feelings.

Now if we can only convince people to get treated.


Motivation is a powerful thing. It gives you purpose and a reason for doing… anything, really. To be unmotivated means, to me, death (metaphorically speaking). I absolutely hate being unmotivated. It makes me feel useless and uncreative.

Unmotivated describes how I’ve been feeling about blogging – and writing in general. I just haven’t been able to muster up the whatever I need to draft blog posts, write short stories, nada. For weeks, I’ve been baffled and unable to figure out how to get my writing mojo back, where it went on the first place, or why it left. It took a while, but I finally figured it out… I’m burnt out. I need a break from writing. Just a little one.

I’ll be taking a mini blogging sabatical. Just for the rest of July. I need this. My soul needs this.

See you in August. Try not to miss me too much. :)

I’ve Been a Busy Bree


Hello, friends. Long time, no blog. :)

It’s been a super-busy few weeks, in the Glenn household: I started a new job, my lovely mother in law came for a visit, and the kid and I attended a weekend-long family reunion. Needless to say, blogging kind of fell by the wayside. Luckily, things are slowing down a bit, so I’m hopeful that I’ll be back to blogging on a regular basis, soon.

In the meantime, here’s what’s been going on:

New Job: Getting acclimated to a new job is tough, time consuming and very rewarding. As I said, few weeks ago I started a new job as PR and marketing manager at an area hospital. For me, it was a bit like coming home, as I worked for a sister hospital several years ago. The saying, “you can’t go home again,” is for me, thankfully, a not true. I’m so glad to be here, and am having a wonderful time learning the ropes again.

Relatives Visiting: The hubster‘s mom came to visit for a couple of weeks. It was so good to see her, and even better to see how happy it made my husband to have her staying with us during her visit. Unfortunately, because of aforementioned new job, I didn’t get to spend a lot of time with her (or take any pictures).

Family Reunion: Every year, my extended family (on my mother’s side) has a three-day family reunion. This year was the 67th occurrence. Most years, the location varies, and this year it was here. I always love this time of year, because it means I get to see family I haven’t seen in a while, meet new family members, and spend time with my local family as well. And while being the host city means more work for us, it’s so worth it.

Now that things are getting back to normal, I excited to get back to posting here on The Mom with Moxie, as well as catching up on my blog reading.

I have a ton of post ideas and research done, and I can’t wait to share it with you. See you all real soon!