What’s the point of living if all you feel is an unending cycle of despair, struggling to keep your head above water and few flashes of happiness that don’t seem to last?
I had written an entirely different end of year post in my head before today. It was going to be a post filled with retrospect of 2019. A post of hope for the New Year, something brighter than my previous dark posts.
But here I am sitting at my desk in the office, hanging by a thread. My chest aches physically but I know the pain is from the heaviness in my soul.
I have lost count of the number of times during the course of year I have silently told myself I am tired.
At this very moment, I don’t desire to be alive. I feel like leaving my desk, walking out of the office without telling anyone where I am headed and walk into the wild. Keep going and get lost.
My colleague this morning already said to me that I am being cranky. Filled with so much irritation, I responded – then you should leave me alone.
This is really bad, my tormentor has begun to follow me to my place of work. It’s beginning to show and it bothers me lowkey but not enough to worry me. A second colleague, Eghosa just tried to find out why I am looking down but fuck it…I can’t even bring myself to tell him. I know I can count on him because we share same bond. We have both been through fair share of family pain. But I know if I open my mouth to speak, I’d break down crying.
I don’t want to cry over this matter again. Last time I did was first week of this month at Shiloh. It was embarrassing enough, a grown man crying a river in church. I tried to wipe the tears off, but it became too much that at a point I didn’t care if the world stared.
My head went through several persons I could run to for shelter – Reward, Elohor, Tunji…even the ones I have pushed away. I almost sent a message to Tunji, but I reminded myself that I said I would do this alone. I need to, have to.
I caught myself drafting an email to my ex. Smh, still feels like a safe haven for me. Tragic. I am still longing for something that’s long lost. I thought of going to the car to call my ex and just cry on the phone, pour it out but I remembered Reward’s stern warning few days ago that I resist the urge to send Hunter Hayes’ Loving you track to my ex. I deleted the email draft and resorted to writing this.
Since yesterday I have been having fleeting moments where I see myself putting my affairs in order and then ending it. I have tried, I am worn out from the pain of watching helplessly the shit my family has been dealing with for almost ten years now. When does it end? I swear, serious conversation needs to be started about what caregivers go through.
It was just last week I sent a message to Tunji that my younger one is home, I’m happy and feeling well. But seems relapse is already occurring. After two months in the hospital and less than a week we are getting right back to it? I tried to be strong throughout Sunday, to act like this was not going to shake me but truth is, I was using every freaking energy in me to keep my mood up. Now I feel worn out and tired and I just want to go numb.
My colleague, Eghosa wrote something on his whatsapp status few days ago. He wrote – “this year, I have been strong, but next year I just want to be happy.”
I felt that, every word he wrote.
In retrospect 2019 was easy for me, a lot better than 2018. But still, it had its down moments which is fast beginning to feel like they are overshadowing the good times. I got promoted at work (something I almost killed myself over with so much expectation), I had an amazing Lebanon trip and most importantly, ticked off a major bucket list item (summiting Mount Kilimanjaro). These were great moments I am thankful for.
I had hoped when writing my review of 2019, I will be saying I had just three major mental breakdowns this year but its beginning to feel like it might be four. I started this year almost killing a child when I hit him with my car on my way to work first week of January. That messed me up and shook my world. It took months to not have my heart racing when someone crossed the road while I drove.
July I sank so low, hitting a new low level of despair that I actually felt myself feeling pain in my soul. I always did the separating science from faith ish, believing mental health was to be sorted out by science and medicine but I found myself crawled up in my bed, crying to God to rescue me. Never have I prayed before when I felt down, but that moment, I sunk so low and it felt like I was going to keep going deeper…words fail me to explain the depth of sorrow I was in.
October broke me. The treatment I was undergoing for anxiety had some complications and then afterwards, my younger one had to be admitted. It all worsened when my close friends missed the signs that I was going through hell. That was when I knew I had to protect myself from my high expectations of people even though I give others so much energy and attention.
I resolved to do this alone and be my own hero. While I know it’s silly and would only make life harder, but at least I know it’s easier than dealing with the feeling of abandonment when I need someone around. Leaning on others is such a huge risk, sucks we are wired to need others.
Sigh…see, 2020. If I make it, I don’t want to have to write anymore sad posts. I want to have it easy, to be mentally stable and feel whole. This blog should be filled with sunshine and rainbows and not a nest of darkness and sadness.
My one desire is to not have any mental breakdowns next year. Funny how this one wish is my greatest fear also. I broke myself last December with my unhealthy expectation for promotion and closing the financial year soundly. I feel a bit bothered I haven’t learnt my lesson and I would repeat same thing December 2020. Sometimes, I feel like walking away from my job, from the anticipation of the next grade. Because truly, after getting it I find myself thinking of how to get the next grade. It’s a cycle of expectations and ambition. To what end and at what cost?
I spent the first half of this year obsessed with how to meet my KPIs so I can get promoted again at the end of this financial year. Then I saw the below post and realized I wasn’t living right.
I wasn’t being grateful or even trying to live and enjoy my new grade. I was wasting my days scheming and over thinking every transaction. Not until I let go and became unbothered, did I begin to see the blessings and ease that came with my new grade. Ambition really is such bullshit.
I’m home now, and pondering over today’s events, I realize I have learned to condition my reactions to things. I have grown in that aspect especially as regards to unplanned expenses. I don’t let it bother me anymore, I tell myself it’s just money and move on. I have managed to adjust my expectations and emotional response to certain aspects of my life, but this one thing that brings me down so low, I seem to not have learned the best possible reaction.
I feel like I am walking on egg shells around my younger one’s health, such that any little thing gets my mood all over the place. You’ll think that after all the multiple relapses, several visits to the hospital, crises endured since 2010, I would be better at managing this. Every damn time I am a mess and even worse for it. I dare say I am fast losing faith, losing hope that indeed God will come through for us and let this thorn depart from us.
I look back at my earlier teenage years when I struggled with what now seems like mundane stuff that set me on the path of darkness. That had me wishing to suffocate on my pillow at night. I thought I had pain then, now I know for real what pain looks and feels like.
I have dreams of traveling the world (I am happiest when on a trip/tour) but for how long do I keep running? Maybe I should leave home, get another apartment in another side of town and tell my folks not to come see me…does this even make sense? Running from my own family because I need to keep my mental health intact?
I tell my elder ones they have it easy. They are not in the same location with us and don’t get to see these things. Heck, we hide it from them to keep their mind at ease. I am the one at home, the one who sees it all and carries the weight. I feel obligated to be here for my folks, but then I am at crossroads. Do I stay and get consumed seeing I can’t exactly detach or adjust my emotional response? Or do I run? In this case maybe not knowing would be the best. But do I truly not want to know?
Right now my prayer goes along the lines of Ruben Studdard’s ‘I need an angel’ track – Sometimes it’s hard to face the truth, so we run. God if you care at all, please don’t let me fall by the way side…
I have this idea of a life I want but each day its possibility of coming through slips further away from me. My mum says I should detach and live my own life, that I shouldn’t let another person’s own bother me. But I just can’t seem to know how to do this. Makes me lose my desire to be here on earth. When I get like this, I desire nothing but oblivion. The easy way out I guess, but after years of constantly battling with my mood and fighting every day to keep myself afloat, I can only desire some peace.
If I died today, I’d like people to feel happy I have finally found peace. Sometimes I find the strength to hope that my younger one’s health will get better and this thorn in our flesh will be gone forever, but these days I’m almost too worn out to hope anymore. Sadly, hope is a dangerous thing for a guy like me to have, but I still have it…
I had previously asked the guys in my office that we all hang out on Boxing Day, but right now all I crave is a very quiet Christmas. A drink, music and some quiet…