Mental health

Life on the seesaw

/ TheAnywayGirl / Leave a comment
Seesaw

Credit: diabetessa.org.za (2019)

When I started this blog, I had a very different idea of the direction it would take. It was going to be very cushitic, very chic, very now, very me, or so I thought. And my definition of all of these things was distinctly African, very black, very woke…very me, ahem. And when I really got into it, it became very conservative, very tawakkal, very surrenderish, … is that me? I’d constantly question myself. And yet here I am with one more post, errr noticeably similar to my previous posts, one could say. A deep dive into those touchy feely uncomfortable things. Urrgghhh. You know, I have never considered myself to be soul searchy.  And always looked askance at any stranger who tried to get too deep with me. I’ve always thought that that stuff is meant to be private. So I don’t understand why I’m obsessed with blasting these things out into the world wide web. Life truly is an oxymoron.

The thing is, I can’t promise that every subsequent post wouldn’t be a stir fry of an overthinking mess. Or weird. Or my favourite, soul searchy – that’s the thing. I’m realising that it’s the filter to my life. My marking scheme, so to speak. No matter the vibrations of life, it’s always – I’m okay if my Lord is okay with that. And I’m in pieces if He’s displeased, no matter how very okay it all looks like from the outside. And it’s funny that I’m writing this down, because I’m sat here feeling absolutely urgghhh after closing an equivocal deal for a good client. It’s especially hard when it concerns people you genuinely like. Because you want to do everything in your power to see them succeed in life. But surely not at the cost of the pleasure of The Sublime. For what then would be my definition of success?

A reprieve. It’s been cancelled, I’m informed, as I write this. You simply can’t script life subhanallah. I’m humbled with gratitude. Don’t get me wrong, I’m disappointed for my client, but I don’t want to be a part of that train. My Lord, put it all in rice. Ahem. I’ve probably said this several times, and have gotten some recoil regarding its authenticity and relationship with adverse mental health. Life honestly has no meaning for me, without His grace, and His hope, and His promise. Seeing unjust people live amazing lives, and the kindest people struggle in life – none of it makes sense to me without the lens of religion. The fact that this is literally a test. That we must account for everything. Resources, relationships, time, all of it. And a true life beckons. It’s the one thing that keeps me going, the fact that His promise is certain. Because I’m weak and I flounder, and I sometimes exceed my limits. And I hate myself. And I sometimes inordinately love myself. And I’m inconstant, but what I know for sure is that He isn’t. It really is the only thing that gives me hope. That no matter what I perceive, I know my Lord has got it figured out for me.  That I only have to worry that I’ve put in my call, because He will be there to lift my chin up, keep me sane and alive. It’s the last thing I want sometimes. But we’re here, and I’m grateful, my Lord.

I’ll be the first to admit that I fall on the other side of the seesaw. When I think of the blessings in my life, between you and me, I don’t deserve it. No matter what I tell myself, I’m worthy, anything your therapist and Michelle Obama would say, I honest to God do not deserve anything I have. And it’s a lot. I think back and wonder sometimes..my Lord, you know me, the real me, and still…this? What do you give the people that you love? To the people who worship you without measure? And this is coming from an innate competitor. No matter how hard I try, I fail and fall countless times. But my Lord, you know I can’t stand accounts. Literally and figuratively. So keep me amongst those you won’t take to account, I beg of you.

I’ve never really got the answer to a recurrent question. How is it no matter how strong I consider our bond, nothing about it seems enough? There isn’t any satisfied aspect when it comes to this side of my life. It translates to an insatiable thirst for me. It’s always no no, no matter how much I take my fill, there’s always more, more prayer, more fasting, more charity, more goodness that I’ve still got to do. It’s incredible. I’m constantly in the space of…help me, move me, rectify me. It’s always my Lord this, my Lord that, when I’m lax in my obligations towards Him. I’m always, I want more, oh I need this, I want more. The need to get closer and closer to Him. The need to surrender and place all my trust, my hopes and my dreams there. To abandon my mind, my soul, my heart and body to His cause. Because he’s the Causer of causes, Disposer of all affairs, The Expediter and The Delayer, The Subtle One, The Supreme Giver. 

There are no answers to the fact that I’d be up in the clouds at 8 a.m and in the pitts by 8 p.m. None of course other than the ones You provide. For better tomorrows, there’s no one else to turn to but you my Lord. And until we meet again, always make it so.  

Deliverance

/ TheAnywayGirl / Leave a comment
Gettyimages 2018

Courtesy: iStock by Gettyimages (2018)

It’s an indescribable feeling. It’s to see the edges of the ocean, unhindered. To not have to peep behind a tall world, something I’ve had to get used to in life. But it’s more than that. It’s to remove the shackles of restraint off my mind. To see myself for whom I really am. What I have allowed in, what I have done, and what I’m capable of. The good, the great, the absolutely beautiful, and the unpleasant that I can no longer disassociate from. There were more than a few black spots, a few curves. For the most part though, we’ve been on that wire. Balancing as best as we knew how, never knowing that we were handicapped with a visor. And it’s as if someone has removed it now and I can look ahead with crisp clarity at everything around me, and see blinding light, hope, and happiness.

As a Cushitic woman, as a Black woman, as a Muslim woman, I cannot tally the number of times someone has told me to be less than. To lower my voice, to slow down my walk. To be more feminine. To be more accommodating. To smile more. To chill. The number of times I have been told that whatever I do, my place is behind a more capable man. But I can count the number of times they have been. Capable, that is, and reliable. And they get away with it, every time. That will never be you, you have no margin for error, don’t you know? And so I would smile at this advice delivered oh so politely, with evident concern. And laugh in the privacy of my own company. But then it becomes pervasive, and it starts getting to you. It gets to your psyche, and your spirit. And you find yourself doing things that subconsciously affirms this lunacy of thinking.

Your mind, just like your body, needs regular watering. With positive vibes, with attainable goals, with affirmation, and positive people. It needs your care. And regular attention. My darlings, please take care of your minds. The value of a healthy mind is priceless. Release those fetters my loves, you wouldn’t imagine the life that awaits you once you do. But you must make that one step forward towards deliverance, no one can do it for you. Towards freedom. You wouldn’t imagine the endless sphere of that horizon. It’s a beautiful struggle, a struggle coated with hope and oiled by love. A love of self, inferred through honest self reflection. And for me, a craving of opportunity. A firm belief that all my dreams are achievable, and that they do come true after all. With grit.

My darlings, the next time someone tells you to dim your light so that a man can shine in your presence, tell them to shut up and work on themselves. You are all that, and more. I dare you to let your mind believe it. Your soul is but a slave to it. So do not be enslaved to believe that you are less than anyone. And that you need to temper your demands to allow others to fit in with you. You are the universe wrapped in splendour. It’s not you, you are everything.

And I hope you can promise me this – that you will never take your mind, and all it entails, for granted. It is your compass in this turbulent world. And your tool to forge forward, either positively or repressively. And there’s a world of difference in those two journeys, no matter the outcome. So commit to place those manacles under a microscope, and remove them one painful click at a time. It is slow, it is distressing beyond belief. But I promise you it’s worth it. This calm, the peace of mind, it’s all worth it. To visualize my unhindered progress hereon? How could I put a price to this?

It’s okay to look back at that version of you, to laugh and cry at her foibles. At her slips, and her imperfections. But she belongs in the past. Laugh with her, cry with her, but tell her to put her chin up. It gets better. The jagged edges of those rocks still abound, but we’re not as naive, we’ve built stamina by this point.  It was okay my love, she made us who we are now. She owes us no apologies, we’re steel tempered now.

It’s okay to be a man, whatever that means. And the next time anyone tells you this, I give you permission to tell them to put a sock in it. No one, no one, has the right to tell you to change who you are. To dilute your essence to make them comfortable. You do not owe anyone comfort, at the expense of you. Why should you? You are beautiful beyond belief. But most importantly, you are you, there’s no one else like you, there can only be one of you. So be you, it is enough.