Sometimes it isn’t Malaria, Fever, or Typhoid
Last year December I fell terribly sick, I was so sick I thought I was going to die, my parents became very scared and I could see the pains in their eyes.
Abosede is not one who easily falls sick, in fact, I can’t remember the last time I fell sick, and my parents testified to it.
So when I feel sick my parents and the doctors said it was accumulated Malaria and Typhoid.
I was placed on medications, but you know something, there was no single improvement.
My blood sample was taken to the lab by our family for more tests, my blood pressure was checked, lo, and behold it was okay.
Do you know that even while I was getting thin by the day, I had enough blood?
My mother became very worried, I am not a fat person and I was getting slim by the day.
During those times, my dad would always come by my bedside and ask if there’s anything I would love to tell him, did something happened while you where in school?
I would always answer NO.
When my parents couldn’t take it anymore, they had to inform my elder brother.
Immediately he said I should be taken to Badagry General Hospital.
When I heard general hospital, my brain had to reset fast, in my mind I was like general bi ti ba wo (general like how)
Those people would give me a sickness that isn’t mine, they would collect our money, I would take injections, so many thoughts started running through my mind.
The morning I was to go, I told my parents that I was not going to anyway, in fact, I told them I wasn’t sick again.
We stayed back and I continued taking my medications.
My elder brother wouldn’t have any of my excuse for not going to a general hospital, he came around and insisted on taking me to a general hospital.
I told him, you would just be wasting money and time.
My heart kept screaming “I need someone to talk to, I really want to let it all out, I want to tell someone what happened”
During that time, I was already having a little disorder, I would wake up in the middle of the night crying and screaming.
It was that bad.
I knew I was losing it but I was scared to tell someone.
I really wanted to.
During this time, there was no strength in me again, my mum would put a stool in the bathroom, carry me to the bathroom, sit me down on the stool, and bath me.
It felt like I was going to die, someone even suggested that I should be taken for a special cleansing, that she feels I am a special child (I am a special child in the hands of God, created for his use and not for the use of whatever doesn’t exist)
When my mummy told our doctor about my recent displays, she requested that I was brought to her house.
At that time, she lost her husband so she was moaning, in fact, we were all moaning because she was family.
When she saw me, my first statement was, BOSE YOU ARE STRONG.
In my mind I was like, I am the worst weakling you have ever known.
I was weak, body-wise, emotionally, in all, weakness was written all over me.
I knew something worst was going to happen if I continued that way.
I was passing out slowly, all through this, water kept pouring out from my eyes.
If we don’t know what is happening to you, how can we help you, if we can’t help you, you will die, you won’t die once, you will die slowly because there’s something that’s eating you up which we don’t know and because we don’t know, we can’t treat it.
I don’t want to die, but I wanted to end it all, it was hard, but it ended the very moment I spilled it.
She screamed and immediately closed the door so no one would come in.
All she kept doing was crying, she was crying for me, she kept saying and you couldn’t tell anyone.
You couldn’t tell your sister, your roommates, she felt betrayed because it took me years for me to tell her.
While my mother birthed me, she trained me also.
If I was to go do something and my parents are having mixed feelings, whatever decision she makes goes.
This brings me to the reality that God had ordained someone who would also be a caretaker over you, regardless of who the person is to you.
So spilling it out was a huge blow at her back, she kept crying.
While we poured out our hearts, crying, praying, and saying Amen, I felt peace, I felt peace knowing that I am no longer alone in whatever I might be going through.
This brings me to say that, when we bottle up things, we tend to die slowly, sometimes not physically but emotionally.
We get tired of whatever and choose to end it.
I had amazing people in my life and sometimes I regret not vibing with them, because I was scared of so many things.
I had wonderful friends in school, they all wanted to be involved but out of ignorance I pushed them away, I was so secretive, I couldn’t even tell them the truth.
I could remember one day, while we closed from school, we had our friends in our hostel seeing a nice movie, while they all watched, I was crawled up at a corner laying down.
I was really scared of anyone or anything trying to add to my hurt.
Maybe I would have been more if I hadn’t bottled up an occurrence of over 4years, maybe, just maybe, so many other things would have happened.
I was drained and I was trying to make myself happy, I was doing it the wrong way, I lost so many great relationships because I was hiding.
While I was able to spill it out, I knew I needed to move on, let go and let God in.
I realized that I became so aggressive and temperamental.
I kept doing this thinking I am not talking nonsense, lol, rather I was hiding.
Dear someone, it’s never too late.
Don’t die a weakling with people thinking you are strong.
While you might feel strong bottling up somethings, which are meant to be let loosed, you might be doing yourself harm which might be disastrous.
Let go and let God in.
While you might not have anyone to share it with, while you might be scared to spill it, while you might be guilty or feeling ashamed.
I am here to tell you that you can let go and smile again.
Do you have a story to tell and don’t know whom to tell, email us at email@example.com
You might want to be kept Anonymous but you want to let it out, be rest assured that you are safe with us.
Thank you for reading.