Adulting comes at you so fast and out of the blues like Lagos crowd when they hear ‘thief!’. It rushes you the way they rush whoever is named the thief ignoring your feeble protests of ‘but I am just 20 somethi..’
The realization can be sudden, it’s like a prick from an injection. It goes innnnnn and stays a while and then out leaving you with a tingling sensation. My name is Kanzah and I got adulTrouble.
I must have been a joker to think getting forced to plait my hair on sundays, having to submit assignments, solving mathematics problems were the toughest things life could throw at me. I mean I was eager to become an adult to escape all that now look at me.
I get hit with life wahala often that I began to lose interest in everything. I’d rather wallow in my sadness and find more reasons to get sadder. Sadness became sweet, the way kolanut gets sweet after you have swallowed the last bite and all that is left is your saliva.
Life turned me into its favourite punching bag lately, it kept force feeding me lemons after beating my ass. Head down, nose covered and lemons getting stuff into my mouth against my will. I couldn’t even turn them into lemonade because I was incapacitated. It kept going at me gbas gbos kpokpokpo. What exactly was my ancestors offense?
The little effort I forced myself to put into my life made no difference. I became detached from myself that I began to see myself as a fraud when I am done writing some blog posts, recording new podcast episodes or creating something for a project I was working on. Everything I did looked meaningless and fake to me, I kept feeling like I was a liar and somehow I’d eventually get exposed for lying and stealing. It seemed my spirit wasn’t really mine, that my words belong to someone else and all the ideas I have put together would eventually get claimed by the real owner. It was horrible and I lost the purpose to be creative because I was paranoid. I basically lost interest in everything that excites me instead I began to pay more attention to mundane things thinking it would make me feel better. It got worse!
I once went on a deleting spree of my early podcast episodes and when my friend asked why I told her I didn’t like how I sounded and they were so annoying. Oh well she felt weird that someone could destroy their ‘humble beginnings’ that way, she was of the opinion that such amateur moves are a constant reminder of how much I have grown. Really? Well it all sounds like a bunch of pretentious whining to me. Whatever jare.
Are you sad, horny or lonely?
I began to fall into low moods out of the blues. One minute I am chatting with glee with an acquitance and then the next minute I become broody and start questioning the essence and meaning of life. What is the whole point of putting efforts? Why did I think I deserved the praises I got for doing blah blah blah. Horrible moods that have people around me asking if I am okay?
“I am not okay”
“What is wrong?”
“I don’t know but I am angry. Really angry and I don’t know why.”
“You are really angry and you don’t know why? Nah wa”
Have you ever felt so down that you start craving dopamines (happy/euphoric hormones) everywhere? From people? That heady feeling that comes from infatuation can get you high and and make you feel good temporarily. From yourself? Masturbation releases dopamine and gets you out of those dreary moods for a while. It will get to a point you start questioning yourself ‘am I sad, horny or loney?’
On and off the mood goes that at a point I began to wonder if I was bipolar or it was the mood swing that comes with ovulation. What made things worse was when the project I was working on went to pieces! When the person I gave the contract to messed up everything we both worked on and gave me a mediocre finished product. I wondered why on earth I thought I could pull off such a giant feat without some failures. Maybe I wasn’t just expecting to be failed in that aspect. No amount of packaging could solve what was messed up and I recoiled back into that dark place like a dog hiding from the rain only this time I was hiding from staring at my failure right in the face. However, getting disappointed in a project hurts less when you compare it to getting hurt by a close companion. I went down a dark tunnel, it got so deep it felt like I could never find the strength to come out and see the sun again. My chest physically ached and I felt the pain and sadness in my tummy. I sought solace in sleep because with sleep I won’t get to think about the ‘why? What if? How did? For what?’
My pain was like an onion, every day unravels a new layer, new level of pain.
LIFE HAD NO MEANING
I found myself questioning life and existence. I thought about death more often – not committing suicide thoughts. I just began to ask why we put efforts into llving and making our lives better if we will still die? What’s the purpose of running around trying to make sense of our senseless lives if God can just squash us anytime he wants? Why should we save up money to buy cars, clothes, houses, go on trips if it can take as little as sleeping to die? I stopped putting efforts in things I do. At home, I stopped bothering about my grooming, chores, behaviour. I did what I like. I went without bathing for days, stopped praying because I just didn’t see the point. There was a form of comfort that came from smelling and I loved it.
I became a blank slate. I just want to exist. Float around in the pool of life till it’s my turn to
I wanted to die to escape all the complexities that comes with living and being human. Why do we bother so much about what to be, what to eat, what to wear, how to behave, how to love, who to fuck, who to marry, who to greet, how to live. Why?! See the only reason I can’t run and let a car run me over is because they said God will punish me for it. See that punishment part is scary yunno and then I asked myself if I was ready to face God’s judgement. Bruh I don’t even know if I am a potential hell or heaven candidate. Imagine suffering on earth like this and still entering a blazing fireplace?
I do not fight any of what life throws at me that I can’t control. I let it wash over me and then try to question what lesson it is meant to teach or why it is happening to me. I try to rationalize it all. I try to question things from a neutral angle no matter how hurtful it has been and even though sometimes I get no answer at least I tried and in trying, I find my peace.
So I am putting this out there for every other person who feels lost and confused, stuck in the imposter phase, feeling like the whole world is mocking your little efforts, threading that dark place or stuck in it. We will all be fine, in the meantime find out what ticks your mojo and keep doing it even if it makes no sense.
Love and light my darlings.