The morning after…
You see, I didn’t just wake up one morning and get healed. From the time of my travails up until this moment where I’m able to let go of my past, there’s a very painful and tasking but necessary process. Infact, as much as I’d love to tell you that I’ve arrived, I really haven’t. I’m very much a work in progress, letting go of all that hurt bit by bit.
At first, I found solace in alcohol and weed, I even abused drugs. I drank like my body was a drum. I smoked weed like I was a chimney. It was temporary solace. The peace only lasted as long as I was high. This is the secret of addiction, you keep smoking or drinking because you want the peace to last longer, you want to feel alive yet dead to the pain, you’re trying to drown out the noise of your many misfortunes or horrible past; but this is not the way to forget. This is not the way to heal. You’ll still wake up the morning after with a terrible migraine and all the memories you tried to forget yesterday.
After I realised that I was wasting my time with weed and Hennessy, I tried to channel my energies into something I loved doing, dancing. I channeled my frustrations into new steps and I became so excellent at spinning the pole that most guests came just to watch me dance. Unfortunately, I couldn’t dance all day and in the times I wasn’t dancing, the pain, depression and guilt hit me in full force.
I tried yoga, I tried astral projection, I tried Eckankar, I tried so many churches, I even tried to seek healing in individuals. All of these worked for a time, no permanent results. I was good as long as I kept doing it. The moment I paused, the depression and suicidal thoughts came like bang da da deng.
So what worked?
THE TRUTH! Only the truth will set you free.
You see, most people with sad pasts or hurtful memories live in denial. They convince themselves that all is well when it honestly isn’t. I did this too. It was a stupid thing to do. It’s okay to have faith, but faith isn’t lying to yourself. As hurt as I was, if anybody asked me “how are you? ” my immediate response would be “I’m fine”, even though I was thinking of committing suicide the next minute.
Let me tell you this story about something that changed me. Sometime last year, I visited my family and my father was the same, when I was hurting really badly, I actually took up a knife to kill my father. I wanted to kill him and kill myself. I had decided that it was the last day for both of us. I crept into the room while he was asleep and I lifted the knife and my mind was made up. He was older and couldn’t have fought a determined me off. Then I told myself the truth. I wasn’t really this bitter, vengeful person. I wasn’t a murderer. I wasn’t trying to convince myself, I knew. I woke him up and I showed him the knife. I told him “I could have killed you just now, but my hands are too pretty to be soiled with your blood, you took something from me that I cannot get back, I wanted to take something from you too, your life. I am mad at you, I’m angry at how you stole my childhood, how I went through life confused and broken, I’m angry because you almost destroyed my life and you killed the children in my womb. I’m angry because I see other fathers with daughters and I want what they have, the love you deprived me of, you made me a refugee in a place I should call home, so I’m really angry. But I am not you. I cannot be you. Your hands are full of blood, in this way, I’m not truly your daughter because I cannot soil my hands like you.”
He didn’t tell my mother, he couldn’t. He couldn’t look me in the eyes after that day. He still can’t. He looks everywhere else but my eyes.
I’m telling you this so that you know that the journey to healing isn’t really just a walk in the park. There’ll be days when you’ll feel like raising hell fire and raining brimstone on the people who hurt you, but you are not them. You cannot be them. You are bigger and better than that. You are paradise.