Ok, so I have been going on a fair
bit about finding the motivation to restart blogging. For a long time I didn’t
blog cos my thoughts were all quite dark and that was not what I wanted my blog
to be about. You see, I have extended my life-long need to appear/seem happy
and carefree always even to my blog. Fine, a few dark posts escaped onto my
blog but I had to really try real hard not pour out all of my thoughts and
anguish and ‘poison’ y’all. J
But I have come to accept that my
readers (feels good to type that lol) wouldn’t want no fakery. I have to be
honest with myself and with y’all. You need to know what I have been through.
Through it all, I spent so much time online; I was obsessed with reading about
other people’s experiences with pregnancy and infant loss. It was an obsession
that was good for my soul. It was good to know that other people felt the same
way. That I was not alone, that I was not cat-lady crazy to be grieving for a
baby lost even after God had blessed me with another.
I used to cry, I used to have a
permanent cold and sniffle all the time cos there was always a tear ready to
escape from my eye. Charley it was hard ooooo. Why don’t we talk about it more?
Why don’t we all go obroni-like and have support groups in Ghana?
I
was mildly depressed for a while. I am not sure if I admitted it to myself then
but I knew I wasn’t ok. I used to wake up sometimes and wonder if it was worth
getting out of bed and facing the world. I used to wonder how much easier my
life would be not to wake up in tears every day. And even though I never
actually planned doing it, I did wonder if it really was worth it? That IS bad
innit?
I
have been too ashamed to admit it to anyone but for the past few weeks, I have
had people close to me or who I know go through tough times like the loss of a much-loved
parent, marriage crisis, family abandonment, loved ones seriously ill, mental
ill-health etc. These friends have been open to me about their feelings and I
had appreciated them letting me into their private thoughts. I have done my
best to be there for them and it has got me thinking a lot about how
culturally, we don’t deal with emotional support well. Mental ill health is
seen as a white thing.
We
all try to illustrate these perfect lives. Who really shares the bad days? And
more importantly, who doesn’t judge someone when they do? People cannot openly
talk about being mentally and emotionally broken and needing or seeking help to
get back up. We stigmatize it and gossip and think poorly about people with
such issues. We think any woman who appears unstable should learn to deal with
life’s obstacles. She needs to learn how to become this beacon of strength that
represents all Black women.
I
was having a conversation with a dear friend about how I leant to be
self-reliant and learned to live through my difficult times on my own. I mean I
even felt I would be burdening my friends if I spoke about how sad I was; no
one needs that shit. And she advised me that that strategy too could end badly.
And it is true. Because, if things get really tough, you can break in a
shocking way.
People
say all the time, You’re so strong! That’s so far from the truth.
Truth is, behind closed doors, I allowed myself to be weak. I allowed myself to
cry, I allowed myself to trawl through online forums and blogs, unburdening
myself on strangers, I allowed myself to leave a meeting and have a good cry in
the toilet, I allowed myself to cry in traffic (fuck what the people in the
next car thought; I don’t know them), I allowed myself not to take calls when I
don’t want, I accepted that I didn’t have to put myself in situations that
caused me emotional strain like going to kiddie birthday parties just to please
friends, I didn’t judge myself for eating an entire tub of ice-cream etc. I
know that’s what has gotten me through it all.
I
live inside of my weak. (term borrowed from a blogger)
I
used to scream in my head “Who says I have to be strong? Why do WE have
to be strong? FUCK THAT!!! My baby died and I don’t wanna.” LOL!
I
just want to reiterate that it is ok to ask for help. I saw a psychologist
twice. Both times, she just listened to me, allowed me to cry without judging
me. I couldn’t do it with anyone else without feeling like I was inconveniencing
them or making them uncomfortable in some way.
God
has blessed my husband and me with this beautiful and awesome girl who fills me
with so much joy every single day! I cannot believe how lucky and blessed I am.
But
I still grieve for my first born. That will never go away and I have accepted
that. And I have accepted that life may still deal out some tragedies and more
hurt my way. I will lose my parents, friends, cherished family members, I might
lose a good job, I will be let down by family or friends etc. But I will be ok
cos I have notched up some experience and I promise my sanity that I will do
things better next time.
I
want to do something to help others. I am not sure how or what yet but in the meantime,
I am doing it in little ways by being there for loved ones, reaching out and
speaking out loud about it and I want you all to do same.
A
happier post coming up soon! J
