Innocence ripped by adulthood!

I will soon be thirty but I still feel the soul of a child in the shoes of an ill-fitting adult; a woman who cannot often cope with the demands of a world of adults who are victims of profound vices. It has happened to me several times to look back and regret those moments when my happiness was summed up not to miss an episode of my favourite cartoon ‘Cédric’. Those sweet memories with my playmates, spending holidays at my cousin’s place or getting up late were happiness. I hate this world of adults. I never feel comfortable here. It is a world filled with hypocrisy, competition, materialism where each pursues only his own interests. A world stripped of innocence!

It is very important to pay attention to who you invite in your lives; whether on the family, professional, friendly or even sentimental level. I learned at my expense. I like to live in my bubble. I created my world where some people have the right to be invited. However, this lifestyle choice has had its advantages and disadvantages. I have known people who positively marked my existence, people who have been like rays of lights in my life. They enlightened me. I also met people who have sadly hardened me, but how do you get out of this world so brutal if you remain like a child at heart? I had to adapt. These people have messed up with my innocence. I have come to understand that not everyone has good intentions, that human beings are undulating and diverse… elusive creatures.

Fortunately, I have never violated my integrity. I made mistakes that cost me my peace temporarily, but I managed to rectify the shot on time. To be able to navigate in a world of adults, you must be a fine strategist. You must tap into your mind to anticipate the actions or inactions of others. A very exhausting task, is not it? A task that I still have trouble doing. My only consolation is the world that I have created… my bubble, my indestructible cocoon, this cocoon where I am, or I do not need to pretend, or I do not need to be at war, or everyone is happy and at peace!

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To the ones I loved.

main-qimg-1596605adde4dea9ca8f08bae6480c47-cTo those men of my life: I loved them. Badly loved! I loved them passionately with the fear of losing them. I lost them. I loved them with all the ardor and madness of my twenties. I loved them so much that I forget that I exist, denying my own self completely. I loved them by making them a priority, changing myself for them and ignoring their missteps. I loved them with passion to an extent that my heart crumbled. I allowed them to play with my heart.

We often had nothing in common. We have created memories, some sweet, those we sometimes talk about to friends when we feel nostalgic. I feel some kind of tenderness for some of these men, those who left, and those whose pictures still speak of what is no longer but was, charming, graceful, happy, and full of honest feelings.

I thank each and every one of them for making me understand something essential, something that I would have not known if they had not been there, that of valuing and loving my own darn self. Far from them thus begins the meeting that I delayed too long, for fear of having to look in the face, for fear of facing my demons. The only real encounter that is important does not include them, just the time that I finally feel at peace with me.

Looking at the mirror for long, I realised that I spoiled a lot of years, looking for the  approval of some males. I decided that now I’m done trying, I’m done experiencing failures in relationships. It’s time to turn the pages, or simply to tear those pages, to start afresh and to love myself profoundly because losing yourself for a certain period of time, is not a loss in itself.



It’s one o’clock, maybe two, maybe three. I do not know anymore. My life has no more hours. It has a strange consistency. It justifies itself of everything and gets lost in everything. My life is suspended by a thread of uncertainties, doubts, paths to take, fears to appease and silences to master. My life is a chaos in which I feel like a ghost. I cannot control anything anymore. My life is empty of laughter and full of deep anxieties, which expand the night, which shake my days.

It’s one o’clock, maybe two, maybe three. I do not know anymore. I am alone at home. And I’m scared. I’m having chills, my body seems to be like a playground on which dances the shadows of this “invisible relationship” that began eight years ago and that pumped all my energy, and gave me only injunctions to remain faithful to an image born of a man which is full of certainties.

It’s one o’clock, maybe two, maybe three. I do not know anymore. I feel helpless. The silence weighs heavily and takes everything with the days that follow. It destroys my strength and annihilates my thoughts. Now that I let this man enter my life, he has all power over me. I let my mind consume thoughts of him without knowing why.

It’s one o’clock, maybe two, maybe three. I do not know anymore. This thought must end. It must end. Everything is dead in me. I think of others, those I love, but nothing holds me back to them. I then move like an automaton to the door, I open it; I look at the star and the sky. I feel good all of a sudden. I am here standing on the edge of my narrow balcony.

It’s one o’clock, maybe two, maybe three. I do not know anymore. I always have one leg in the air. Around me, there’s nothing and as if time had paused. An unknown breath keeps me from moving the other leg. An intuition like a whisper that tells me that I’m not alone, that if I jump I would not be alone, that if I do not jump I would not be alone either.

It’s one o’clock, maybe two, maybe three. I do not know anymore. It does not matter. I’m crying in my room, alive. I wish I had never felt that suicidal.


I woke up thinking about happiness. I googled it, that is, the term “happiness” and learnt that there are four hormones actually which determine a human being’s happiness: Endorphins (through laughter, watching funny stuffs, doing exercises) , Dopamine (when you feel accomplished after fulfilling a goal or doing a set task) , Serotonin (when you act in a way that benefits others, helping people around), and Oxytocin (through a hug or being close to someone you love). These are way too many blabla hormones and their intricate tasks that led to that good dose of smile and a feeling of fulfilment that one needed may be in order to be nothing but “happy” and satisfied or content.

Keeping the hormones aside, I started pondering about the very word “happiness”. From a very young age, we learn about being happy, and making others happy. Do this or that, and it will make Mum or Dad happy. Receive some nice presents for a birthday and you will be asked if they make you happy. In everyday conversation, the concept of being happy turns up more often than you might think.

“Happy to see you”. “You look happy today”. “Happy with that?” “Does that price make you happy?” “Are you happy in that new job?” “I see you have changed the car. Happy with the new one?” And so on. The reverse applies of course. “They charged too much, I wasn’t happy with that dealer”. “I waited in for that parcel that didn’t arrive. I wasn’t happy, I can tell you”. If you counted up how many times you used the word in a week, I am sure it would surprise you.

Everyone wants it, and we constantly seek it, yet it can be illusive to many. It makes us smile, feel joy, and stay positive about everyday life. But is it possible to be happy all the time? Or is it enough to be satisfied or content? Is your Happiness dependent on others?

The key to happiness is to simply choose what problems you want to solve. The list of problems we have are endless, and as you probably already noticed, never really come to an end.The reason they never do is simply because solving your problems, creates even more problems! The point is, that the solutions to all your problems you have today, will lay the foundation for the problems you’ll be facing tomorrow.

Once you are old enough to aspire to something, the idea of happiness takes hold. You begin to perceive that something will make you happy. Having your own car will make you feel grown up, and give you freedom of movement. That will make you very happy. But that car comes with its own problems. Breakdowns, flat tyres, and having to buy petrol. So, not that happy after all.

Having that girlfriend or boyfriend you love so heavenly, and getting married. You know that, that will make you happier than you have ever been. But you have to learn how to live with someone else, change some habits, and worry about things like unwanted relatives, and bills. So, that didn’t work out as happy as you had expected it to.

A worthwhile career must surely make you happy? Trouble is, when all’s said and done, a job’s a job, worthwhile or not. You have to go to work at times when you don’t want to, and do things you would prefer not to. So maybe that career isn’t the source of happiness after all.

Happiness is far from tangible. We are conditioned to expect it from an early age, and strive to find it, whatever that takes. But the absence of happiness is very different to real unhappiness, you learn that too. At times, it can be found in small things. The wag of a dog’s tail when you come home. But happiness is something fragile, when you think about how it can be easily shattered by one harsh word, or thoughtless gesture.

Like Inner Peace, happiness is something we all seek, though not necessarily in the same way, at the same time. It is a word we are all very familiar with, but a sensation that is all too fleeting at the same time.

When emptiness feels so heavy…

I feel empty and voiceless. It feels like I am missing a piece of me. I feel worse than how I felt back then like, do you ever feel sad even when there is nothing to make you feel sad about? Like you just feel angry with yourself and you don’t know why? You lose hope and interest in everything and everyone.

I have never really had a voice, that is, I have never been in the position to be heard. I come from a reasonably large family and back in time, each of the family members had a voice and a big personality of their own, except me. It is not that I did not try; it is just that my voice was drowned out by everyone else’s. This led me to become quiet and introverted when I was a kid. I was so quiet as a child, so terrified in the midst of domestic violence. I was very closed off to myself. I was never taught to talk through or about my thoughts and feelings. And when I joined in university, I thought it was normal to shout and become aggressive to voice my feelings. I thought this was the only way to convince myself that I was free. My childhood environment fucked up my ability to socialise.

After some years, I realised, I was never heard and eventually I just gave up trying to be heard. I wanted to be in a group of friends, go out and enjoy myself. Unfortunately, I was not in and was never accepted in any group and even ignored by my classmates and rejected by the one I had a crush on.  I would express myself in a verbally aggressive manner in order to make myself heard and to seek attention. I did not know any different. I thought it was normal. But that was until I stepped into the real world and discovered it was not in fact normal.

I am still unsure of how to deal with my inner turmoil. I began to internalise everything because I never had anybody to talk to. I still do. I ended living in my own world. I would imagine myself in scenarios where I would be rescued from the world I found myself in. Unfortunately, it never happened.  I still cannot express myself verbally like a normal human being and consequently I lost a lot of friends, all of them I should say. I was also involved in some toxic relationships, the ones I would not speak up for myself at all. I now feel empty, depressed, devoid of feelings or too much of them, that I suffocate.

I have moments of wondering about why do I exist? Why do God allow me to live?  Sometimes, you don’t recognise your own facade because you are so used to wearing it. I feel wrecked emotionally. I feel voiceless and my life is filled with void. Sometimes, most of the times now, I feel like there’s no purpose for my existence here on earth. I am drained not because of a love-less life but because I am just existing and unable to do something for myself to be able to live, be with people, feel part of a group and socialise. Having hopelessness inside me, controlling my life and tears running wild most of the times, happiness seems like a dream and it is so far away.

I am here writing whatever is in my mind, not in the form of poetry of course, but about thoughts and feelings just as they come from my mind and heart to your eyes. All I can say is I am feeling terribly worthless and depressed right now. I feel desolate and empty and unfortunately I keep lying to myself and people around with that fake smile on my selfie to let you all know that I am doing okay. I just hope I find a way to get out of this depressed self; although I doubt I can find one.


Trying to let go…

I’m really trying, but sometimes I just get so weighed down with the pain that my heart carries . I feel dead and drained. Today is one of those days where I just want to curl up into a ball and cry. I can’t understand why I miss you so much because when you were away for a year, I never missed you that freaking much.I’m just wondering if I’m the only one to feel this. I have only known you for eight years.  We haven’t dated.  Here is the scenario: you meet a guy and he’s great. The two of you get along well with each other; you spend some time together occasionally. Deep conversations. Intimacy. Friendship. You start thinking that maybe this could actually be something. All the elements are there, right?

But then you realise that if it wasn’t for all the effort that you were putting in that, ‘he’ wouldn’t even show up? You get afraid to ‘pester’ him with all your calls and messages. He seemed to have disappeared completely. You look at his “WhatsApp” which is picture-less waiting for one beep sound and for his message to surface. You keep coming to that until you fall asleep. I am a pathetic fool, I know. I have turned myself into a little hobo or attention seeker begging for every morsel of attention. In my head I had near convinced myself that this guy is the one. When we are together, believe me, even if we don’t talk much, it feels like magic. It feels like you just want to sit next to him or sit somewhere around him and feel happy in his presence. It feels heavenly, trust me. This is too clichéd to say it but he is like a missing piece to my puzzle or I should say my puzzle as a whole.

I was breaking my own heart over and over every single day and no one knew but me. At night, I cry despondently even though I am aware I cannot let myself fall into the trap of depression. I’m trying, I really am, and to stop being sad but often times I feel like I’m failing miserably. Someone told me that people don’t know or understand how I’m feeling and in a way, I’m thankful that they don’t. They are blessed to not know this kind of pain. Sometimes I have so many emotions that they overwhelm me and all I want to do is cry and let all the pain go. And bizarrely most of the time, I can’t feel anything. I feel empty and emotionless like a robot.

Every day I wake up and I think I am done. But then I look at my clothes hanger and I see his grey crew neck sweater there next to me and I think of him again and again. I don’t know if any of this will ever get better. Honestly, I don’t know if I ever want it to. Isn’t that how it should be? Should you ever really be happy again without the one you have loved so profoundly and not lament?

How long is long enough? Long enough to grieve, long enough to pick up and move forward, to go about life? When do we say, “Ok that’s it! This or that shouldn’t bother you anymore?” or “When is it ok to think, you’ve had enough time to grieve?” I am trying hard to let go of the “invisible bond” that we share. I sincerely hope one day I shall be able to.


I cannot let go…

imagesYou may take this post as a bit of a ludicrous ramble but I just want to shout out loud and say that it hurts like hell and my soul is sick. Enough! No more! Nothing can be more daunting than the thought of losing people one loves and having to start all over again, over something one knows one gave one’s best shot, right? To be honest, I’m sick of constantly losing people I have poured my soul to. May be my choices were wrong. But then, there is this guy, I cannot let go still; it’s been more than a lustrum. Somewhere between his silence and mine, somewhere between our busy lives, somewhere between me waiting for that small talk to turn into heartfelt conversations, my love for him cannot die a silent death!

Love at first sight? Bullshit, isn’t it? Bizarrely, I have been going through it and it clicked like heaven, but he wasn’t ready and still isn’t ready. It feels horrible when I think of the way he would ignore me and the sleepless nights I had gone through. His refusal somewhere led me to be into chaotic relationships, wanting to achieve a certain sort of fulfillment. I know it’s wrong to blame him for everything. But, I remember how before entangling in all the heartbreaks that I went through, I didn’t have to worry about other people. Then ‘his’ entrance into my life took away pieces of me I hadn’t even had the chance to discover yet.

It was nice to like someone when my only worry was wondering if he liked me back. I’ve never fully cut myself off from it all and said actually, I don’t want to speak to or see anyone right now, I want to just be me on my own without worrying whether he finds me attractive or not. I remember having a hard crush on him and enjoying it during my university days, getting the butterflies and marveling at how nice his face was. I remember actually falling for him and being pleased with myself for genuinely feeling that way now and not having to pretend anymore. I remember him hurting me with sharp words (I cannot blame him again; he may not even know  that he has hurt me) and I remember hating myself for falling, because if I’d stayed true to myself I wouldn’t have been in this mess.

But now when I think of him, I feel like shaking his soul and tell him how much I love him. But one cannot force people to like one another. Liking him isn’t fun for me sometimes, I don’t get butterflies or excitement, I get anxiety. I get dread. I think about too many things and I question his every move as well as my own. Every detail is scrutinised and analysed, has he text me back yet? Why not? Is he ignoring me or is he just busy? Whose photo has he just liked on Instagram? Is she skinnier or prettier than me? This is a terrible ‘disease’ I suffer from. Love doesn’t hurt; it’s the things that come along with it that hurt, which is true. But what’s also true is the fact that you can’t have one without the other unless you’re lucky.

Love is stealing pieces of the other person for yourself until there’s nothing left of them, love is breaking down every part of them individually until they no longer exist as an individual, but as a joint body with you. Love is leaving them and telling them it’s because they deserve the best and that’s not you. Love is saying maybe you’ll meet again someday and be better for each other. Love is leaving without a word even though you used to stay on the phone all night knowing you needed to sleep but staying up anyway because you would have done anything to hear their voice. The way you’re shown love, is the way you perceive it. That’s how I’ve been shown it, so that’s how I perceive it.

Love is hard work and it hurts. One day I’ll find someone that doesn’t allow it to hurt like that but for now, I’m sick of losing him, of losing my “soul mate”. It hurts to pour oneself into someone whom one hasn’t yet deciphered what he wants or feels. I understand it and I don’t. If I hold onto all this anger and sadness, it’s like I’m holding on to him when I want to let him go, I’m holding myself back when I want to be free. It takes effort to consciously dislike him, or have ill feelings towards him. I am already tired of making myself understand that I cannot grow if I allow the weight of him to still hold me down. I am sick of losing part of me and breaking my own heart. I do not need any more stitches sewn across my heart, for there is only one time one can patch something up before it breaks.