Aisha Adkins

Hello, friends.

It’s been a little while since I’ve visited the blog. Swimming in the depths of grief while also surviving as a high-functioning person with ADHD, major depressive disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, and PTSD sometimes requires taking a step back from a few things to begin to focus on other things.

The last quarter of 2023 found me participating in an intensive fellowship with Columbia University’s Age Boom Academy where we learned the ins and outs of the aging and the housing crisis. Since then, I’ve been writing about just that for a noted publication; the research and interviews have taken up quite a bit of time.

During my main job, I spoke at the first ever Care Fest and helped wind down the Care Fellowship. I learned so much and was so proud of the fellows who participated in their respective cohorts. In just a few short months, it will be time to do the Care Fellowship all over again.

But the last few months wasn’t all work and no play. In October, my father and I took a memorial trip to Seattle to honor my mother on what would have been her 69th birthday. During the whirwind trip, we visited old stomping grounds and fellowshiped with old friends. It was a surreal but beautiful experience.

In December, on a desperate search for community and belonging, I trekked (okay, flew) my way to Los Angeles, where it did indeed rain in Southern California. During this time I made connections and had conversations that were both enlightening and insightful. I don’t know what the future holds, but I can’t help but strongly believe that California will play a big role in it.

I rang in 2024 from the comfort of my couch, awaking just 2 minutes before the ball dropped. I fell asleep after what I was surprised to find an emotional and exhausting day. In my attempt to enter the new year in a clean space, I rid office of remnants funerary gifts, which caused me to break down into sobs and wails. There was just something so final about tossing out dead plants leftover from my mother’s memorial service. The to follow were emotional, too. After all, it’s been nearly 6 months, but it’s only been 6 months. The wounds of loss are still tender, as is the trauma of 10+ years of sickness and care.

So, in addition to continuing to heal from said traumas and learning to live with grief, I am learning to embrace hope for the future for the first time in my adult life. Not only do I look forward to seeing personal growth through therapy and physical activity, I have hope for the things that I plan to take on and create.

Looking ahead, I know there are trips to New York and Houston, for certain. And as excited as I am to visit these new places, I am also eager to find ways to affect change. I want to continue to tell stories through written word, film, and maybe even visual art! I want to get family caregivers paid so they don’t have to miss medication or run late on rent.

I want to find love in 2024. Or at the very least, a reciprocal like. And I know that this will come as I continue to put myself out there and refuse to give up.

I want to be healthy and find new ways to express myself. I want to cultivate new friendships as I revere the old. I want to find freedom in places and ways I never expected to. I want to experience something I never thought I wanted. I want liberation.

So here’s to a new year. If you or someone you know thinks you might be able to help me reach any of the previous goals in summary, please reach out so we can collaborate and work together!

• Help start a foundation for caregiver relief and respite
• Help me publish a book
• Help me write a screenplay
• Help me find a partner