I can’t lie. I actually want to throw in the towel. As I write this, I have the urge to go off the grid, close all my accounts, and never be seen again. Life is really hard. Like, really hard. When I left school, ready to embark on this journey called life, I imagined it would be easier. Or if it wasn’t easier, I thought I would at least be able to find a way. Because I saw it: there is always a way.
But right now, it doesn’t feel like there is a way. I’m overcome with grief after watching the funeral of my dear cousin yesterday. Seeing him laying in his beautiful white coffin made it all too real. It finalized it. Solidified it. And now, seeing him there, I know I will never have the opportunity to see him again in this lifetime. The tears wouldn’t come out yesterday. But they sure have come out today. And as much as I know that this part of life is inevitable — after all, no matter who you are, where you’re from, how much you have in your bank account, where you live, just as you were born, you will die — it’s still incredibly painful.
So, there really is no point in being afraid of death. There’s no point in letting it stop you in your tracks. You have to live your life as best as you can. But what if that is the problem? What if you just cannot live the way you want? No matter how hard you work, no matter how much you try, no matter how much you pray, you still can’t move the way you want and live the life you desire.
Right now, I don’t have faith in God, a belief that has driven me most of my life. And yet, I feel like in the latter stages of my life, I have spoken to Him, cried to Him, pleaded with Him, but He doesn’t hear me. I don’t sit and wait for things to happen. I get up and I work, every single day. I strive every single day. I give my all every single day. But things don’t change. It’s as if I am running on the spot, busting a sweat but never actually moving from where I stand.
I can’t even say I am angry or saddened by the situation anymore. It just feels like good times happen to other people, and then there’s me, congratulating them but never being able to receive my own flowers. There’s a line in Nipsey Hussle’s song “Racks in the Middle” where he says, “I’ve been fighting battles up a steep hill,” and it’s a line that stood out from the jump. I heard it, I resonated with it, and now every day feels just like that: like I am trying to climb a steep hill. As I am climbing, every setback comes my way, and when I feel like I am taking five steps forward, I end up taking fifteen back.
The thing is, when you are younger, most of the time you can bounce back. You get knocked down and you’re able to move forward. Well, I was able to. It was difficult, but I did. Every single time. Now, things are harder.
I find the more I ask for help, the less help I receive. The more I state my needs and what will move me forward, the less people respond. Those who could have been influential in moving my blogging journey, moving my magazine, elevating me in my ventures — they didn’t, haven’t, or won’t. What they continually suggest I do to rectify the matter won’t help, especially where my overall mental health is concerned.
And now I am here, in the worst place ever, not knowing how I’m going to get out.
Blogging has become my crutch. It’s where I can organize my thinking and rationalize my thoughts. It’s where I feel heard and where I feel safe.
Hopefully, I find a way. And if not, I’ll make one.
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Celebration at The Ivy Cafe, Blackheath
The past few months have been incredibly eventful, filled with significant moments that have reshaped my mindset and focus for the future. I plan to write individual posts about each of these transformative experiences, but one stands out that I must mention first – my mum and I wrote a book! Yes, after years of starting and stopping, we’ve finally become authors! I’ll be dedicating a full blog post to this amazing achievement soon. But for now, to celebrate, my best friend treated us both to a wonderful meal at The Ivy Cafe in Blackheath, London.
