Warning: this post is of an extremely personal nature. It is not about self-pity. If you think I sound spoilt or ungrateful or whatever, sorry. I need to vent somehow. This is my blog after all.


I woke up today with a cloud hanging really low over my head. For two hours, I was unable to shake the feeling and couldn't get out of bed. At some point, I felt tears falling. One more hour passed - during which I had updated my bbm status to the sad face smiley as that was the only way I could really describe how I felt. Also, I didn't know who I could talk to as I was not sure what I wanted to say.


Sad. For so many reasons. Reasons that I have taught myself to keep to myself. Not today. Hence, this post.

I finally got up and showered, fully aware that I was frowning the entire time, fully aware of an unwelcome tightness in my chest. I figured that when i got on with my day, the feeling would subside and I'd be back to normal, happy on-vacation me. Unfortunately, I've had no such luck.

So I got on with my day. As I waited for the bus, I tried to think happy. I couldn't. So I ate a bag of crisps I'd had in my bag for three days to distract me for a bit. I sat on the bus wringing my hands. I do not wring my hands. I have other nervous habits. Wringing my hands is not one of them.
Throughout the bus journey - all 15 minutes of it - I tried to find what could be wrong. I also tried to find things to smile about. I eventually cracked a smile when I realised that nothing I was wearing matched. Train time. Surely, the kpaka-kpoko of the train would at least drum out the feeling. Nope. It also didn't help that it smelled like at least three people in the cabin hadn't showered in days.

Bond street station. I usually don't mind walking a bit. Not today. I took the bus one stop across to the Tottenham Court road side of Oxford street. Ive had a cold for a few days and wanted to see a doctor or nurse at least. There's an NHS walk-in centre in Soho. I figured I would also ask whether the reproductive health pills given to me in Lagos were appropriate.

I got lost in Soho. I've never ever been lost here. Ever.

When I eventually found the centre, they asked me to pay a shocking fee. I walked out. After getting lost and walking about aimlessly, I was not in the mood for that mess.

Thank God that Google and I are heavily acquainted. I looked for and found a better centre in the same vicinity.
I get to the centre and I'm told to come back in half an hour. No problemo. Walked back out. As I was not in the mood to get lost again, I figured I'd go into a cafe grab a coffee and sit my ass down. I found a church. So I went in.

I hadn't been sitting there for ten seconds when the floodgates opened. For shame, I caught myself. Not before I told God where it hurt and how I feel about certain things.

I left the church, made a right, saw a red neon sign and then I realised I was in SOHO! So I chuckled a little before going back to the centre.
Fast-forward real quick and I'm at Knightsbridge buying chocolate and cookies - Yup. Was definitely feeling down.

Things really aren't hunky-dory with me at the moment. It took someone telling me the truth plainly for it to all come to a head.
1. I've quit my job. This deserves a post on its own. It will come on April 1st.
2. I'm broke. And yes, I'm on vacation. Bought the ticket ages ago. And I took the vacation because I needed some away time badly (see 1,3 and 4)
3. Some of my family relationships are a bit strained at the moment.
4. The trigger for this post: I'm tired of getting there late or not being good enough.


Since there is a whole post dedicated to 1, I'll start from 2.

2. Last year, I saved like a maniac because I wanted to buy a car. Then I had to travel three times to sort out some documents. All three trips were out of my pocket. I got help on my last trip in November because by then I was running low. I have also spent close to a fortune on my current car that is still acting like we're going through a bad break-up. I'm on vacation but I haven't really shopped. Truth is, this vacation wasn't intended for shopping. This trip was to a. Prove a point and b. get some rest. I have achieved neither. My pocket is 500k lighter.

3. My family means everything to me. If you're my good friend, you subconsciously get tagged family. I hate arguing generally . Ok I lie, I love a good argument about abstract, far-removed issues. I hate arguing about personal things and I hate it even more when it's not resolved and when it's with family. It hurts. Even when I know I'm right. Peace is my motto. However, because I have no filter as far as family is concerned, I tend to say more than I should or get angrier than I should. With unpleasant results as I'm sure you can imagine.

4. Second fiddle doesn't sit well with me. I've welcomed it a couple times willingly. Why and how? I fall hard and I fall completely. There are no half-measures where my feelings are concerned. So I rationalise: part or nothing at all? So I bury what I tend to dismiss as nonsensical signs of being over-emotional, and accept part. Those signs, those twinges often don't go away without being properly dwelt upon and in some cases, present themselves with the help of other variables, as weighty, unshakeable moods, kinda like today. So what's your problem? I know you want to ask.

My good friend said to me recently: I think your problem is that in actual fact, you're here - raised hand above his head- but you see yourself as here - hand at waist - and you argue for why you should be considered and treated as here- hand at waist again. I had no response. I still don't.

So today, my mood sucked. Also, someone asked me to carry extra luggage which is number 2 or so on my list of pet peeves. And in my suckiness of mood, I pushed my good friend further away. If I'm feeling a certain way about you, it's very unlikely that I want to talk to you about you. At least, not for a few days. Then I'll be rational and less likely to regret what I say. As soon as I got off the phone, I proceeded to have a mild panic attack that didn't really subside until I started writing this post.
The damage is done though. I'll just have to wait this one out. Hopefully it isnt't permanent.

I'm back where I was this morning. Slightly numb, trying to think differently or not think at all. Insomnia is looking really comfy next to me right now. My tummy has not been cooperative in accepting food all day.

Has putting it out there made me feel better? Slightly.
What am I planning to do about numbers 1 to 4? I'm planning.

I'm not sure of most things anymore. I'm not sure of earning a good income, or maintaining healthy relationships or remaining sane in the midst of challenges.

I am sure of one thing: God is not dead.