•••••Playing I Lied by kiDi 🎶
This is a long overdue letter. I stalled so much, I bit the bullet with chosing to write this. When you'll be reading this I will not be having all these feelings again.
I woke up today and said my prayer. I am not where I was some few weeks ago. I smiled all through my day and for every moment I was asked, “how are you?” I replied honestly. “I’m fairing. I’ve had better days.”
Where was I some few weeks back.
Bad news hits like a train. It will knock you over and leave you flat, but everybody else keeps rushing along.
What’s worse is I got hit over and over again.
I hit rock bottom.
One would think this phase is the phase of no return. The point where your nothingness cannot be queried and you have no hopes of getting out of it. On the contrary I had to. To realise the beauty of everything I am and everything I own.
What is the messiest thing you have ever done?
Mine was not letting myself fall when all I needed to do was fall to see the sky.
"I'm fine"
The biggest lie I told so I don't appear weak in a world where everyone pretends to be strong. Aren't we all liars?
You keep your pain to yourself, suffering silently because you want to appear strong and make sure you hold up your rope of lies —hiding your true emotions and struggles.
I do too.
I'm not judging you. I have been forced to learn why we all do.
The fear of just being yourself and not the person the world is accustomed to seeing. The inability to switch from the version of you people like to who your grief is shaping you to be.
The fear of judgement and vulnerability, letting people who think you have all your cards in right see you present the wrong hands. So we present a version that is unaffected by challenges we face.
Everyone would wonder what is wrong with me. They would laugh at me and see that my world is warped.
So I choose to lie everytime I was asked about how I feel. I don’t want to be seen as burdensome.
My therapist called because he got worried when he got the news. “How do you feel?”. I lied. I said I was fine because I didn’t want to get back into therapy or get told the things I want to hear the most.
My family called and asked, “How do you feel?”. My silence should have given it off. “It’s not that serious. I’m fine” I lied again. This time smiling. I didn’t want them to see my pain.
"How do you feel?" My friends asked for the umpteenth time as I sat and stared at a world I think is full of wrongs.
I lied again but I had questions.
"Why do bad things happen to good people?"
"Tutu, there are no good or bad people, there are just people. Either people who do good things or people who do bad things. We are just people and anything can happen to anyone."
“The world isn't fair then. Why does it give some people rainbow and others dark clouds?”
"Ask the people with the rainbow and they will tell you about their dark clouds."
Everyone is broken. You see only what they want you to see. Either their glistening smiles or ugly cry.
"How do you feel" the repetition of this question made my answer change.
I was tired of lying. I wanted them to see just how I feel.
“I feel like my world is caving in and I only have dark clouds. I hate that I am me and I have to go through all these things. Why does it have to be me? Why should I feel all the pain of bearing all these feelings alone? Why is my path crooked and filled with hails? Look around, see everyone in full smiles while my soul burns. I am on fire and no one can see. My world is burning. I want to walk in front of a truck. No matter how hard I kicked, or high I get, I can’t get around all the pain I feel. I am stuck in a labyrinth that I do not want to be in. I have no rainbows and the universe is just unfair because why are we not getting served the same dish. I want to have a conversation with who is in charge. Step forward. If they're not a coward, let's talk. So they can answer all these questions heavy on my heart. I hate my world and anything I am being served. I hate me. Fuck life, and the universe, and whoever is in charge.”
Conversations you have when you are in pain might be your realest self but it is never a representation of who you are. I was speaking from my pain.
It's 2am and my conversations with God,
“Why me? If I was made in your image, I should be perfect, No? So Why not? Why is life so difficult? I'm not doubting your existence but if I am your strongest soldier, tell me so I can wear an armor. These things are beyond me. Everything is happening all at once, I can fold. I believe in you, I believe you are the peace that conquers my most pressing problems. You can be my strength if I ask you to be. I am losing sight of reality and lapsing into worry and fear. Every other person is smiling and happy except me.”
.............................................................................
"There's nothing we can do to salvage the situation, she has a few weeks to a few months to live"
A random conversation between two men while I stood in line waiting to buy my drugs. I turned to see who the conversation was about and there she was, in SMILES talking to another woman.
I guess this was God replying me from last night. He heard me. He heard me clearly.
I thought I was the strongest soldier when I'm not even on the field. The real people fighting know themselves.
The irony, because I see these kind of people every other day.
I thought I had it worse but there are people who are in the worst imaginable state.
But guess what, they are still smiling.
I was too self absorbed. It might be safe to call me selfish because I have what someone somewhere is wishing to have. Selfish. To simply put.
Everyone has battles, just because they smile and lie, "I'm fine" doesn't mean their world is not burning too.
"I never want to feel this way again". I told myself after my 5th bout of cry.
My rock-bottom was the parachute I needed to get up. The hopelessness, the weight of my body crushing my soul.
That was all I needed to say to myself to start seeing the rainbows in my life.
Immersing myself in my experience made me realise I was doing the comparison with other people's lives all along and I forgot the most important person.
Me.
I became totally engrossed in my good, and bad, and beautiful, and ugly. My circumstances were a part of my train but it wasn't the driver.
I was.
I'm the only one who gets to determine my departure, my breaks, and my final destination.
No matter what I was going through, one thing is certain, I am not broken beyond repair. Nothing is wrong with my life. I am not a mistake, I am not fake, overall I am not incapable.
Asking for help at my lowest does not mean I am weak or burdensome — it's self care.
Sharing our real experiences helps to build a sense of community and we are not scared to show the world that we are healing.
I am healing. So are you. If we can heal from people ping ponging our hearts, we can heal from this too albeit life is flipping us in hot oil.
Drop the weight of pretending like the cards life dealt us aren't bad, an ace and a seven-deuce, doesn't mean we cannot still win the game.
So take off the mask. Its okay to not be okay.
Yours,
Adetutu❤️
I joined Substack because of you, we have a lot in common. You are very good at writing, Keep it up and I hope you overcome whatever you are going through.
I hope you feel way better now though❤️