As Told To Taryn Finley

Dalioanna Jones, 17, is a high school junior with dreams of attending Spelman College and eventually becoming an activist or starting a nonprofit. Based in Indianapolis, Indiana, she’s a mental health advocate and lover of poetry. The pandemic has been an uphill battle for her, as she’s been tested in more ways than one inside and outside of her home. Every time, however, she’s risen to the occasion.

I have no choice but to be introspective. When you have to process everything while dealing with long-term anxiety, taking time to really analyze what’s happening is how you stay sane.

While a lot of my friends were excited about staying home for a while at the beginning of the pandemic, I knew the baggage that virtual learning would come with. I was a freshman living with my aunt and grandmother when this whole thing started, and that wasn’t always the best for my mental health. They depended on me for reasons that are a bit too personal to share. I carried a pretty heavy burden living with them.

They’d argue with each other often. I’d get yelled at constantly. Sometimes the yelling would be at 5 in the morning, other times it’d be in the middle of my virtual lessons. Coupled with a pandemic, my problems with anxiety and depression hit hard.

My toxic home environment took a serious toll on me and made me feel less than. Some days were better than others. Overall, though, it was draining. It hurts to say, but I wanted to leave everything. I didn’t want to have a family anymore.

Fortunately, in the spring, I went to live with my dad in Lewisville, Texas. I felt bad leaving these two women that I love, but I had to put my mental and emotional well-being first. I even had energy to do things outside of my schoolwork. For the first time in a long time, I was better able to manage my time and work how I wanted to.

I finally felt free. Not just physically, but mentally, too.

I moved back to Indianapolis in October to live with my mentor and best friend, Lauren Hall. We met when I was in second grade. She was a teacher at my school and I became her helper. She took me on as a mentee and helped me through a lot of personal struggles in my life.

Even though my home environment is much healthier now, I am still concerned about my safety in my new, mostly white neighborhood.

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As a young Black girl with loc’d hair, I’m always conscious of the space I take up when walking down the street. Any false step (or regular step) could cost me my life.

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I walk the same line Breonna Taylor, George Floyd and so many others walked. It’s almost like once you’re born, you’re put on the list. So every step you make, it doesn’t matter how careful you are, you’re just guilty for existing.

This country was built off the backs of us. It’s beyond frustrating, it’s baffling, and it’s gotten to a point where we’ve accepted it as the new normal. It’s heartbreaking. And through all of it, I still have to find a way to take care of myself.

Lauren introduced me to the world of poetry. At times, it’s been my outlet when I need to be more in tune with myself. It helps me not only recenter myself, but analyze what it is that’s really going on inside of me and be able to express it. Writing has become such a useful tool in helping me process things happening in my life and around me. If I need to vent in the moment, I turn to my virtual diary and just let it all out on a private Snapchat story I share with my best friend. When she sees it, we’ll talk about it later and I’ll feel better.

I’m healing in so many ways. I’m still working on forgiveness. Therapy has been an amazing tool for me. I’ve been in counseling on and off for most of my life. It’s the raft I need to stay afloat when life gets choppy. I’m learning to have more patience with myself and others.

A very common problem is we as people stretch ourselves. We have so many different personalities, we have so many different faces and masks and hats. But when it comes to being authentic with ourselves first, it’s hard because you have to figure out which part of me is this coming from? And is this the broken part of me from a few years ago that I still got to work on? Is this just me being frustrated about something at work? A lot of that confusion leads to anxiety.

I recognize that I’m resilient. I rise to the occasion in situations where many people would fold under the pressure. I believe diamonds are created under pressure. I’m pretty much a crystal at this point.