fbpx
  • +234 8051493163
  • contact@mentallyaware.org, vu@mentallyaware.org
Newsletter

HOW TO GRIEVE A BODY THAT DIES DAILY

The silence hits different tonight. My chest is tighter than usual, and I can feel myself leaving my body. There is so much pain. I am in so much pain. I didn’t expect death to be this painful. I am not dead yet. Death isn’t sudden. It has never been for someone like me. It...

don't die

The silence hits different tonight. My chest is tighter than usual, and I can feel myself leaving my body. There is so much pain. I am in so much pain. I didn’t expect death to be this painful. I am not dead yet. Death isn’t sudden. It has never been for someone like me. It is gradual. I die a little every time I try to live. When you have a mental illness, living doesn’t come naturally to you. It goes beyond oxygen and carbon dioxide. Living requires effort and being intentional. Every breath feels like the last to me, because I am potentially one trigger away from attempting suicide.

The morning I woke up to a random tweet that read ‘Suicide is all too cowardly an act to be recognized as a noble form of death’ I died. I died more than I usually do. That day, my mother prayed to her god against every spirit of madness making people commit suicide in Nigeria.

Yesterday, I died twice. I usually die once a day but yesterday was different; it was my birthday. I woke up to calls and texts from almost everyone I knew. I answered a couple of them but after a while, my anxiety decided to celebrate the day with me, so I stopped answering calls or replying texts.

I got 2 boxes of cupcakes and 3 huge happy birthday cakes. Few friends came over to my house uninvited. We exchanged small talk over waterlogged noodles and badly grilled chicken. Everyone spoke about their plans for the future but when I was asked if I had plans for 25, I couldn’t give an honest answer. I rambled my way through. ‘I just want to stop dying daily’. This was what I wanted to tell them when I was asked but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to ruin the moment with my tragic honesty. When they left me, I died. I sank into my couch, I watched my suicidal thoughts prepare my funeral. Oh it would be a memorable day to die on your birthday. No one has to get stressed trying to remember your death anniversary.

It was 11:45 pm when my alarm went off. I slowly dragged myself to the kitchen to make a cup of black coffee. My birthday had ended and I realized that I wasn’t happy. It was just like every other day. I wanted to be really happy but I couldn’t will happiness for myself. I sat on the kitchen floor and sobbed. Again, I died.  I looked through my phone to send an apology text to all the People I had ignored during the day. A particular text flashed at me.

‘Hey, happy birthday. Remember that today is just like every other day, use your pills, smile, come for your appointment tomorrow and please, don’t die today. Come with cupcakes too, I know you hate them’

It was from my therapist.

Tomorrow, I get to pay 10% of my monthly income for a therapy session, but I guess it’s the life I’ve been given to live. Life didn’t promise me so much anyway. So I smiled and took my meds because it is what helps me.

This is how you grieve a body that dies daily; you take care of it. You don’t judge or blame it for deteriorating. We’re all dying daily anyway.  Yours may be physical but mine is mental.

The silence hits different tonight. My chest is tighter than usual, and I can feel myself leaving my body. There is so much pain. I am in so much pain. I didn’t expect death to be this painful. I am not dead yet. Death isn’t sudden. It has never been for someone like me. It is gradual. I die a little every time I try to live. When you have a mental illness, living doesn’t come naturally to you. It goes beyond oxygen and carbon dioxide. Living requires effort and being intentional. Every breath feels like the last to me, because I am potentially one trigger away from attempting suicide.

Oh! I have said this before, my bad. Blame it on the illness. It comes with confusion like this sometimes.

I’ll use the meds.

Jolaade Philips

1 Comment
  1. Loved it!

Leave a Reply

Leaderboard
1.
Shola olaoluwa
473
2.
Anonymous
343
3.
Anonymous
306
4.
Anonymous
276
Newsletter
WordPress Image Lightbox Plugin