I think I’ll need background support in the nearest future. 😉
I think I’ll need background support in the nearest future. 😉
Behind every successful man is a crumbling wall of self-doubt. Although sometimes, the crumbling is not complete, and some parts of this debilitating wall are left standing—a reminder of man’s imperfections.
This wall is there before every leap at the moon, it is there to snag at ankles, to trip shaky legs and send you rolling down the part of the forlorn underachiever. Sometimes, it’s buried so deep that only events dig it out. In my case, looking for a job dug it out from deep down where I had buried it. I knew it wasn’t finished and done with when I buried it, but when it was thrown into my face like a freezing cold water on a harmattan morning that I had no degree certificate for the thankless job of teaching which I sought, it all came roaring back. I knew I was smart and all, I knew I did the job better than most of those with their certificates, still I couldn’t help but wonder if I could get into the University, get that certificate they couldn’t stop talking about and leave their jaws hanging low after I did it. After the interviews, I never did get the job; I started on the wrong foot, I had no certificate.
The fact that I didn’t get the job opened up old sores where doubt seeped from. Hell, I can’t even get a job, what am I doing with all these dreams of mine? How am I going to achieve dreams bigger than the country, bigger than the state, the town where I couldn’t better other job seekers? I felt bad, and naturally so. I thought maybe I came either before or after my time.
Self-doubt cannot be entirely knocked down. It may be knocked out or buried, but after sometime it stands, triggered by one event of the other. So, how did they do it? Bill Gates, Mark Zuckerberg, Chinua Achebe, Wole Soyinka, Chimamanda Adichie. I know a guy who’s doing it, Hymar David. Did they take drinks to forget the doubts gnawing at their hearts, threatening to rip it out before they disgrace themselves? Or are they not human like all of us? One phrase that keeps recurring on the timeline of this Hymar David on Facebook is his favorite hashtag ‘#TeamNeverBackDown. Maybe we can begin from there, not backing down, even when we see the self-doubt literally rolling on the ground, imploring on us to cut down the size of our dreams least we disgrace ourselves and be disappointed.
I have a friend who does the opposite of what his friends advise, just to show them he’s under no one’s control. We are to be that type of friend to self-doubt. When it advises that we look down, we should look up; when it dusts a chair for us to sit, we should keep standing, we should walk and run; when it presents the problems like a nagging pessimist, we should present the advantages, the gains, then think of the solutions and take the leap. It’s better to take the leap with the moon as your aim and fall among the stars than not to leap at all.
Since self-doubt is a demon that cannot be killed, let’s make it our motivator; let the nagging discouragement of what we cannot do be a timely reminder of what we have not done.
The Burj Khalifa, rising up to about 830m in height, is officially the tallest artificial structure in the world. The mega-tall skyscraper took five years in construction and has gathered its own deserving weight of mainstream recognition on the media.
But you and I both know that all the detail above has little or nothing to do with your dreams.
Or does it?
It’s just actually that when I try to frame my dreams into structure by comparing it to a real-life artificial structure, I find myself looking right at the Burj Khalifa, or something like it. The aspirations I’ve made for myself are probably as lofty as they can get and my guess is yours are just so much as, if not loftier.
Without dreams, life would be no journey and we’ll all saunter through it like one of those zombies from Walking Dead, and there might be no need for hope and disappointment, along with many other of those sad emotional things.
But the Burj Khalifa was once a people’s dream.
So we dream yet, even with stories of crumbling aspirations and short-changed visions swirling around, because without dreams we’ll only exist – like one of those good-looking mannequins who feel nothing about standing for too long.
You know this about your dreams: they inspire you, get you thinking hard, win you naysayers, keep you going, bring you great friends, and put you in big trouble. And you know that sometimes the trouble they put you into strengthens you because there’s always an optimistic assurance that by that, you could only be onto something great.
But you also know that at other times this trouble seems just an out-and-out blow to your progress and you feel impulsively tempted to push many of your hopes back. Or do something much more worse – like giving up altogether.
Still yet, there are times when, maybe by influence from surrounding pressure, you begin to rationalize your dreams and feel that they are perhaps too lofty and you really should cut them down to a “realistic” height, even though hardly anyone knows what “realistic” means anymore.
At this point, looking up ahead and watching your dreams stare back at your teeming insignificance, you feel subdued by the height and become tempted to cut it down to be a bit possible. A bit believable.
And that’s dangerous territory, because that’s very likely when that dissuasive little voice opts in to pout its blackened lips and say you’re not up to the dreams you discovered yourself in the first place. That there’s an error and little time to fix it.
It may be true that time flies, but man also officially began to fly in the early nineteenth century, although people began to fly before then because whoever dreams have at once been set afloat, above the ground. So if times truly flies, that has got really nothing on you, so far you know your place – which is above all odds.
If you’ve ever had dreams (and I know you still do), then what follows is essential for you. Keep them in mind.
(1) You’ll Meet “Treacherous” Oppositions But Remember That The Concept Of “Dreams” Is Relative
The people who are most likely to have the first laugh at your dreams are those closest to you. I’ve thought about why this is for quite a while and my introspective inquiry has led me to two probable reasons.
First off, I think it’s because these people you’ve included in your intimate circle are people you trust, and therefore, those you first tell what your goals are.
The second is a feeling I’m quite positive you can identify with. It’s difficult to comprehend that someone who you see and talk to everyday, or who you just talked to last night, is dead by morning. It’s in this same way that it’s difficult to really understand, at first at least, when someone you talk with everyday comes up one day with an idea that neither of you have once touched upon. An idea which, when received with a loud laughter, cannot immediately be justified.
It’s not that there’s something wrong with your aspirations and it may not be that you’re telling it to the wrong people. It’s just that at that moment, they don’t realize that they too have dreams. They might have another native word for their aspirations, but it’s all a dream – a bleak assurance that keeps them hoping, going. And because your own dreams may seem loftier than the limit they have set for their own dreams, it immediately registers to them as “unrealistic.”
I understand that a loud laughter coming from just any other people may be bearable, but a loud laughter coming from a people you trust can feel treacherous. But no one hates you (perhaps) and it’s just that their vision have failed to be heightened by your dreams so they struggle to understand.
And a friend of mine once said understanding can be hard. I agree. Even you too will find it hard to understand why they’d laugh at your honest aspirations. Give them time, but not too much time. If they’re bent on saying no, invest your time elsewhere until deep down you see improvements.
You see, the whole world can believe in you, but if you don’t believe in yourself, their belief will yield nothing. So, the great news is that you believe in your dreams. That’s all that matters.
Never stop believing.
(2) Know What And When To Let Go
You have a dream and have a matching team of people who doesn’t help at all. That makes the very few you might find who believe in your dreams extremely valuable – and they have the right to be, because it takes courage and conviction to believe in what everyone else have given up on.
That said, one of the first things I tell new friends is that whenever they find at least one person who believes in their dream, it’s best they hold on tight that person – and if they find more than one, their luck – but I get quick to add too that they should be wary of elevating anyone to a place where losing them seems like the end of the world (I say this keeping in mind that we can sometimes be helpless in the face of love).
And I say that because most of the factors that causes you to lose a creative part of yourself are related to people: either by uttering a deeply discouraging word to you, or offering you an equally disheartening gesture. Having people is essential, but having the wrong people is an updated description of a personal hell on earth. Even more so, keeping the wrong people when you have your chance to keep them out is a dooming tune we can avoid listening to.
They say nothing can hurt you except you permit it to. When you remember that, my guess is you believe that no matter how austere a word might be, you have within you the choice to let it in or keep it away. I share that idea, too, but only partly. Because when we talk about your resistance (i.e. your defense against hurt), we aren’t talking of something infallible, so I believe the resistance should always be pro-active. That means the resistance should come before the actual uttering of discouraging words of offering of disheartening gestures.
No matter how tolerable you are, you can’t always withstand direct reproach. That’s why your resistance should be about picking out those you need from your circle of friends and keeping those you don’t need out. If you earlier separate those who believe in your dreams from the rest, you may not hear the discouraging words or see any disheartening gesture because whoever may be likely to give that will, by then, probably no longer be in your “friend list”. In other words, your resistance is discernment – the ability to separate the chaff from the wind.
Know what to let go and know when it’s no longer safe to hold on to what you no longer need.
Truth is, it’s never safe to hold on to what you don’t need.
(3) Stop Watching The Height. Look At The Breadth
When you look up at the Burj Khalifa, you immediately get struck by its magnificent height and may get distracted enough to completely ignore its massive width. Height awes and scares and with it, the breadth is a distant memory. Same with how our dream looks like when we think of it. We immediately see how tall it stands against us.
Contrary to what you might have heard, dreams are rarely ever fully achieved, they are only followed. What we only achieve in relation to aspirations are goals. A goal after the other. One goal and then the next. When you finally get to what you’ve known to be your dream, a new height to beat surfaces – “a new dream” – because, apparently, one is no longer enough or no longer needed. But that new height was always together with your original aspiration, only that these goals go through a “time cycle” and are part of a larger picture whose pattern you may not yet have deciphered so that when you meet this goal, another comes into place. Your dream is way bigger than your goals and a goal achieved is a step in line with your dream. But it still depends on what word you choose to qualify your aspirations with.
Say your ambition is to become a data analyst and you eventually become one, it doesn’t end there. There arises a new ambition that correlates with the profession – or not. But that only proves that it’s all a network of primary goals that leads ultimately to your bigger purpose. So, I hear you ask, does it mean no one has ever fully achieved their dream?
First, I think it’s time we began looking at our dreams as an integral part of our purpose rather than a wishful ambition. In this sense then, there are people who’ve, without doubts, fulfilled their purpose. You get the point.
So shake off the scare of the height. If your dream could be so tall, it’d only be overwhelming if you don’t pause to consider its breadth. The road to following your dreams is filled with extra promises. This road may no doubt be tough, but for all its toughness, there are so many good stops.
Don’t look too hard on how high you have to climb, focus rather on how far abroad your dreams can reach and then take you to. Look at the width, the possibilities. Look at that and keep your gaze there.
So, whenever you don’t feel up to your dream, acknowledge first that your dream is bigger than you and permit yourself a moment to be humbled by its majesty. But don’t be overwhelmed nor subdued.
Again, whenever you don’t feel up to your dream, go through your “friend list”; there’s someone who’d encourage (except you aren’t yet with the right people). Create a circle with people of like interest – people who’d go the whole 9 yards to keep you from falling from your ladder.
And lastly, whenever you don’t feel up to your dream, remember that the Burj Khalifa was once a people’s dream.
A friend of yours shares a piece of really good news and you find yourself struggling between feeling happy for him and managing your self-judgement.
If you can identify with that, then you’d love to hang on.
Sometimes, our friends’ progress reminds us of our shortcomings, they paint us the images of what we could possibly have done better with ourselves and what should perhaps have been and these images stay in our head as long as the news lasts, and maybe longer. At that moment, everyone but you seem happy and between feeling sorry for yourself and finding a happy spot in your heart for your friend, there sits a great feeling of self-condemnation and you feel more bad about your apparent selfishness and maybe begin to see yourself as a bad friend.
But you’re not really a bad person.
You’re only being jealous and human. And jealousy can sometimes be a good drive in the aberrant sense that it has the capacity to push us to tackle something we may have been pushing back.
Feeling down about your friends’ good news may have some psychological benefits like bringing to your consciousness little or not-so-little perks you might be overlooking and acting as a strong motivator, but your friends are justified if they may not bother to comprehend your reasons for being so withdrawn, so cutting down on how often this strikes you (and getting to a point when it rarely ever does anymore) seem just the safest way to go.
But how can you effectively ward off the depressive feeling of longing and melancholy that accompanies your friends’ good news? Or could this be an imperative psychological demand the mind places on you to ensure optimum productivity?
Or are you just as insecure as you suspect you might be?
Well, truth is, it could be any of those. Or it couldn’t be. But first, you should know that…
1) Jealousy Is Human
You have to admit it and it’s not self-debasing: the top feeling you get when a friend’s good news saddens you is that claustrophobic moment of wishing you were actually the one who just got admission into the university, the one who just bought that sleek car, the one who just got that dream job, the one who haven’t yet backslidden in his faith.
But this feeling is just as normal as blinking when something comes in contact with your eyes.
How? Imagine if there was a class project and every other person but you seem to be getting it right, how’d you feel? Not good, I know. In fact feeling any other way might be crazy.
The feeling of being left behind can be a very dark cloud, misshapening your reasoning, sense of protocol and every other right thing you should probably do. And it’s jealousy, too. But this is where jealousy can be aggressive in the same sense where it can be pro-active.
But how do you know which side of the scale your jealousy is bordering more on?
2) Watch Your Reaction Closely
You hear the news and there’s this slow wash of cold emotions running wildly down your entire self and it’s so overwhelming that you crumble inwardly and are subdued by its gentle force. But you still have enough to feel bad about your reaction and part of you really wants to try and say congratulations, and even though you may never say it, you’re somewhat comforted that you at least conceived it.
A friend of mine was recently called to the Nigerian bar (yes, she’s now a lawyer!) and I’m really happy for her. But don’t be fooled. I wasn’t near as enthusiastic as I’m now when I first heard the news, and in fact, a few minutes after she let out the good news, I left the occasion without as much as a nod of acknowledgement or a thumb of commendation and that was because apart from the jealousy I felt, I was angry. Angry at myself because I thought that could be me and the anger spread and was evident outwardly. I went home and fell into a disturbed sleep and it was only when I’d awoken and part of the haze had lifted that I sent a text of apology, congratulation and commendation.
And now, I feel good with the news but I still have not lost that desire to double my effort that the news gave me fore-mostly.
Apparently, that news did something positively to me. But I hope you noticed how aggressive and uncivil that almost made me become, how unpleasant everything could have turned out.
We can’t say for everyone because there are those who may be tempted to completely indulge their jealousy. So what if your emotions give no signs of coming under control (even after walking home and catching some sleep)? What if your jealousy overshoots and becomes supplanted by raw, untamed anger?
3) Go Traditional. Face Your Problem
So many resources out there tells you to face your problem and that advice hasn’t outlived its usefulness.
When you notice you’re beginning to feel angry by your friend’s sharing of his success and know you might be helpless against your anger, you have to acknowledge first that at that moment there are two problems.
Second, your friend.
You probably can’t deal with yourself as you may have acknowledged your helplessness against your anger, so let’s call this one intractable.
Now, all the emotional chaos began from hearing the news in the first place, but that news had a source: your friend. So your friend now is a problem. Your problem.
How do you deal with your friend here? Approach him (you know I mean him/her, right?).
But slow down with the approach because there’s no cause for physical contact here, and it may be pretty hard, but just walk up to him and say your congrats. Even if it’s the last thing you want to do.
(Wait, you thought facing your problems would be easy?)
It may seem pointless at that point but you know one major perk about facing your problem is working under the odds that your problem may have something beneficial up for you.
For instance, you may walk up to your friend and say your congrats and your friend might say something particularly exciting or kind that might, in turn, flush away your anger in one clean sweep. Or your friend’s cheeriness might just make you question why you’re being angry at all.
In essence, there’s no better time to approach your friend than when you’re losing yourself.
4) Finally, Get Up To Work
You may have summed up enough gut to walk up to your friend and face your problem and you may now feel better and convinced that feeling bad at first about your friend’s success doesn’t make you a bad egg but you’d miss out a whole big part of the impression if you don’t realize that the whole episode had done something to you. In fact, it was meant to do something to you.
Because no matter how cool you might feel afterwards, what your friend’s success really shows is that you’re not doing enough. You may be trying hard, but hard may not be enough. What’s really scary about trying it the smart way?
I see this a lot in movies, when someone’s plan fails and he then goes up and say, “I tried my best, but my best wasn’t enough,” and I wonder who sets the limit for us, who decides how far we can go or what our best should look like.
Who decides your best? You or the society?
Get up to work. Give a new dimension to your efforts. Honour your impulsive nature but don’t make a decision that you’d have to pay up for later. And remember, if you really want something, you’ll find a way.
And if you don’t, an excuse.
I might not be able to tell you exactly how to rewire your efforts for visibilty and productivity, but I think you know within you that you’re enough, and indeed, more than enough.
Your friend’s success is just your wake-up or say-so call. There might be this big idea in your head that scares you like hell and maybe all you need to implement it is a little ruffling of your creative feathers.
A friend of mine once said, “The greatest illusion of time is that we have enough for our dreams.”
Which means every moment counts. And as you decide to chart each of your efforts towards your dreams, towards feeling okay about a friend’s good news because you’re already fulfilled yourself, I think I should leave you with Karen Lamb’s words.
“A year from now, you may wish you had started today.”
When we’re faced with something unpleasant, we make the first move by finding a way to push it away or we then find a way to put an end to it. There are always options and it’s a choice we make to either face it or run. Sometimes, unfortunately, our choices are more unpleasant than the circumstance itself.
It’s very common to hear of teens (especially teen girls) who end their lives because their love interests broke up their relationship. And only last week, I heard again, from news coming out of the radio, of a teen girl who subjected herself to “eternal freedom” because she wasn’t careful enough not to get pregnant. I wouldn’t lie. When I used to first hear these things, my quick response was to shun their decisions and criticize their actions, even going as judgmental as calling them stupid.
But I notice I quickly forget that there was a point in my life when I, too, wanted to end it all, wanted to escape from the noise and quick-moving demands of time, wanted to be in a place that’s timeless, where there’s total peace and calm and I knew only death could give me that. We all may have entertained such thoughts in maybe varying degrees and forms and most of the time, they’re unjustifiable. I think now as I should have thought then: If I could think these thoughts when I hit an emotional low that’s not too uncommon, how much more then if I was given the very reason to seek this escape?
For anyone to seriously consider suicide, they must have believed they’ve hit rock bottom (and many very well have) and I think there’s a saying that goes like, “when you’ve hit rock bottom, the only way to go is up”. But potential suicides look up and see not the tiniest glimpse of light or hope but a sea of faces and endless tradition hovering over, waiting to ridicule, judge and condemn. When they look at the end of the tunnel, they see light; not daylight, but the dazzling glare of a train barreling in on them. And some, because they have an idea what they might see, do not even look up and are quick to seek the emancipation they believe death could grant them. We cannot blame them. Yes, we cannot.
Some time ago, following press reports about the suicides of gay teenagers subjected to bullying in their school, I looked around the web and found the initiative of Dan Savage, a sex advice columnist, very appealing. Dan organized a series of videos centred on the theme of “It Gets Better“. The message is obvious. I may never know what it feels like to be gay, but I do know what it is to be a teen and what it feels like to carry suicidal thoughts.
Maybe before we begin to condemn the next suicide, we should consider firsthand if things could have turned out better had that suicide had someone whom he is certain would hold his hands and tell him “it gets better”. Because it really gets better. Because those sea of faces aren’t going to be up there forever. Because what it takes to turn a circumstance completely around could be just a moment, an hour, a day or a year. However long, it gets better.
I have this uncanny whim to look into the eyes of every teen and tell them boldly that it gets better. It’s wrong to assume that death could bring peace, and it’s also wrong to assume you understand death, because no one does. Death could be an endless silence with opaque depth or it could be something completely darker than our imagination could ever permit. But death is definitely not the answer. Killing yourself as an end to your predicament only closes one more venue of brightness and cuts short a bright purpose.
I imagine you must have fallen in love with a cluster of stars dotting a night sky. Now, imagine if each of those stars, one after the other, decides to retreat and dim into oblivion, what’d be left of the beauty of the sky? Nothing. Emptiness. Just an endless roll of grey and black.
That’s what happens to someone else’s life when you decide to end yours. It’s what I feel when I hear of yet again another person who has ended his life. It’s one brightness forever dimmed. It’s one light forever engulfed in darkness.
Death posing as escapist is as deceptive as it is damning. I believe anyone who’s ever been unconscious or sedated has, at least, had a glimpse into what death may look like and early in January, I underwent a major surgical operation. My bowels had been obstructed and my stomach was hastily distending for eight days before protocol was duly settled and I was taken into the theatre. Somewhere amid the dizzying light and less-than-comforting verbal prodding, I lost it; the ability to see or feel or do anything at all. Of course, it was the anaesthetic that induced the anterograde amnesia (the inability to form new memories) but those seven hours of been in the “twilight state” has firmly inspired my belief in the stark finality of death and the endless emptiness that comes with it. There’s no remembrance, no will, no sensation. It’s just emptiness, that emptiness that takes away knowledge and everything you’ve ever known. It’s important to note that I wasn’t unconscious in that theatre, though, I was only sedated, but looking at the more common form of semi-consciousness, that is sleep, I think we can draw a surmise about the numbness of this thing called death.
Now it’s tempting to believe this could be the total freedom, the certain escape from all the ridicule and shame that are believed to follow actions that prompt suicides, but what if, at some point, that emptiness begins to condemn your decision, what if you hang around and find out things could return back to normal again, what if up isn’t as “occupied” as you have believed? What if death isn’t really the end?
Hang on. Hang around. It gets better.
Of course, hitting your rock bottom signals an end, but only an end from running farther down and not an end to your race. When at your emotional lowest, when your world seem motionless, there are only two places to look to.
First: up. Because when you’ve hit your rock bottom, the only way to go is really up.
And second: within. Because things happen to us and things happen around us, but the only ones that matter are the things that happen within us.
Take, for example, an illustration I found on the web. A coco-yam, an egg and a teabag are each placed in a different kettle of boiling water.
A coco-yam goes in strong and fit, but comes out very soft, able to be beaten into a pulp. An egg goes in with a shell that’s easily breakable to protect the liquid in it, but comes out strong. A teabag goes in pliable but changes the entire water into something sweet, something desired. Each underwent the same predicament, but reacted differently (I especially love that teabag, turning his circumstance into an advantage).
So which would you rather be? A coco-yam, an egg, or a teabag? You choose.
Ending it is necessary, but killing yourself is no option.
Start your climb from that depth where there’s no one else and things might just have gotten better before you reach the top. Because it gets better. It really does.
There’s a saying in Yoga that I love and especially want you to know: “When it gets better, it only gets better”.
Depression is a thick heavy cloud that gathers in place of your heart; it doesn’t gather so rain can fall, no. It’s just there to weigh you down. Its purpose is to be heavy. When it comes, the heart travels far away and we feel heavy stones in place of our hearts. A kind of nagging, heavy pain that promises not to go away. It remains there, pulling us down.
It is everywhere: the weak smile of the struggling worker; the strained laughter of a good leader gone bad; the circles around mama’s eyes; the over exhibition of happiness at a friend’s good fortune; the pretense at being easy-going; trailing off in the middle of a conversation; insomnia, the many sleepless nights; the desire to get hurt and sink into self-pity; the will to have it all end, to go away from it all. It’s everywhere, a chain that binds us, many of us.
It is only because we’re far from home that we feel this. And that brings to mind the saying “home is where the heart is.” Our hearts can be anywhere. It can be in seeing mum and dad smile, in seeing them reap the good harvest for which they’ve toiled so hard. It can be in the smile of that child, your baby, the one that has the world in his eyes. Home can be the look and feeling of gratitude you squeeze out from a place where hope abhors, with your good deeds. The gratitude of a beggar, a brother lost. Home can be where the myth called true love resides. It can be in his arms or in my case her arms. Home can be that smile that disarms you and leaves you flowing lightly about like you have no weight. In our homes, depression crumbles.
It’s a feeling I’ve been battling even before I knew the word for it. A feeling that I don’t belong, that I’m worthless and as low as the soles of my feet. This feeling pulls me back from making acquaintances (they’re all my betters, why bother?) and keeps me locked onto myself. This feeling takes the blackness out of the night sky and pastes it on my heart. It’s a feeling I would wish only for my enemies and still pity them when they have it. It makes you sad and angry at everything. Makes you lick your wounds and pray subconsciously for more hurt so you can keep being miserable. It’s a world where the sun has been abolished, where there’s no hope and home is faraway.
I have never been able to pinpoint what brought on this terrible feeling that encompasses all manner of self-loathing, inferiority complex, and low self-esteem. I used to think it was perhaps my upbringing. The way we(I and my two brothers) were kept away from other children before we ‘got spoiled’. Perhaps it’s in my genes, maybe I was just wired that way and I don’t get to ask any questions. I’m a melancholic, one of the four purposed temperaments by the early Greek physicians and philosophers, notably Hippocrates.
So, I’ve been wandering, looking for a way around the darkness, waiting for morning which seems like eternity. No matter how long I wait, morning doesn’t come. It’s as if it moves farther and farther away from my sight like I was on a ship pulling away from shore, seeing the horizon drift away. Bottomline: morning never comes. Home is far away.
Being lost is one thing, not knowing you even have a home is another (remember, home is where the heart is). Something happened to me. Fortunate or unfortunate? I can’t fathom. This event left me vulnerable and at the same time showed me I have a home, showed the whole world I have a home. Maybe it was meant to happen or I just made it happen. Maybe I had wandered too much and I decided to build a home. To run away from the fetters, the clasps, the chains of depression. I fell in love. A totally mushy thing to say and a fairy tale – not a great combination – but it is what it is. I believe in fairy tales and I get mushy at times. It is home. Depression is afraid of these walls.
Last three days, I ran from my house to see her, away from depression. I ran from my house to my home, breaking my chains off on the way, letting them litter the ground as I ran. I ran from the dark end of the tunnel with the certainty that there was light at the other end, since Nneoma was there. My home was there. And when I ran up to her, I felt there was no truer freedom than true love. No purer form of freedom existed. Just being with her made me see the moon smiling. I forgot I was inadequate, forgot I was supposed to be in my shell, forgot I was not supposed to measure up to others, forgot that the world was not supposed to make sense as I was literally reading the meaning from the stars. I saw my home and the heart I had been missing. I exchanged the heavy stones for my heart, and I heard the night hum a certain freedom tune in my ears. I was free.
I’m back home. And it’s been two nights, she’s not picking my calls. I don’t know why. But I’ve decided I won’t let this freedom go away. I’ll run after my home and my heart. I’ll live with them both no matter what it takes. Home is freedom, where you’re accepted for what you are, home is where the heart is and I’ve found mine. To let go is to fall back into bondage, and that in itself is bondage.