Who am i really?
Worry, fear and anxiety are like the little drops of water from a tiny hole that eventually sinks the ship. Slowly it sips into the mind, only this time you are sinking and too paralyzed to struggle for a chance to live. Never amounting to anything or losing everything that mattered to me in the blink of an eye, there was always something to think about. The fear of being unequal to the demands made upon me. Of falling short everytime my parents compared me to Simie, failing to meet their expectation. Not having friends. Of, well, not getting it right like everyone else. That was home.
My first session with Miss Tutu happened during a short holiday. I woke up with a tightness in my chest. I pushed at my chest, hit it a number of times just to rid the feeling, took long breaths in and out. Nothing changed. I was home alone. I took a walk outside the room into the kitchen in search of food. Junk helped me to feel better. The fridge was empty. I recollected my mum had cleared them out of concern it was fast replacing my healthy meals. I groaned and kicked it close, slightly hurting my leg. I felt restless, in need of something to take my attention off myself. On one of the cabinets, I found a half peeled orange and some other unpeeled ones with a knife on a plate. The owner must have been in a hurry. I took it with me to the room I shared with Simie. I was almost done peeling one of the oranges when a notification from my phone distracted me. I peered over it to see the cause. "Reminder, now showing a thousand ways to die."
My mum held my right palm with both her hands as we waited in the reception to see Dr Tutu. Occasionally she would pat my hand and caress my fingers. It was soothing. A nurse came to call us in. The front door had an inscription written boldly in black "Dr Tutu." A soft voice answered, "come in." The smell of tangarine-flavoured air freshener hit my nose as soon as the door opened. My mum had gotten something similar; I detested the fragrance. My nose twitched at the recognition. Dr Tutu's small office was meticulously arranged. Her desk and three chairs were tuck at one end of the room, while the other end housed the examining bed. The desk had books in different sizes neatly arranged upright with a metal thingy to hold it. A frame stood right next to it facing her, probably a picture of herself. And a calendar at the other end of the desk.
She was writing in a book when we entered. There sat Dr Tutu, looking younger than I expected. She was a small woman. She had a beautiful smile. "Good morning, please sit down," she said with a wide smile, her hand pointing at the seats in front of her. "How are you doing today?," she said turning to me. "Fine ma'am," I said. She wrote something in the book before her. "Let's pray, I believe so much in prayer," she said. I unintentionally zoned out during the prayer. I came to at "amen". "Here, please fill this for me," she gave me a paper she took from one of the files on her table. "You can call me Miss Tutu," she said smiling. Hello señorita Tutu. I buried my head in the form. It felt like hard work. 'On a scale of one to ten, how much do you enjoy being alone?' 'I feel tired when I wake up each morning' strongly agree, agree, strongly disagree, disagree, not sure' Arrgh. I could be doing something reasonable with this time.
"Let's address the elephant in the room, shall we?" she gave her wide smile again. I could feel my mum's gaze on me as an awkward silence passed. They were both looking at me, waiting for me to explain the "Sat-u-die" incident as Simie now calls it. I don't owe anyone an explanation I told myself and kept my mouth close. I should have been at the party that saturday, I could have saved myself from this situation now. Regrets. I saw my mum adjust herself on her seat. Miss Tutu wrote something in her jotter. She looked from my mum to me and sighed quietly.
"I will ask some questions, I will need you to answer them as they come to you. Do you enjoy living?", I was not expecting something like that. Ma'am, I will need to teach you your job. "Elizabeth, are you with me? " she said when I kept staring at her.
"Yes ma'am," I managed to get out.
"Okay, do you enjoy living?" she tried again.
"Yes," I lied. I don't know what she was thinking asking a question like that in the presence of my mum. Should I say no and further break her already disappointed heart?
"Okay." she said, and wrote something in her book. "What do you enjoy doing?". As easy as it looks, everything seemed to delude me. What do I enjoy doing? I asked repeatedly for my brain to supply. Watching a thousand ways to die, imagining myself falling ill, laughing at memes, writing sad poems, reading sad stories, making myself sad. "Nothing is coming to mind," I said after a little while. I saw Miss Tutu's eyes dart towards my mum. Maybe to see her reaction.
"Okay," she said again. I started counting it on my fingers. "We need to make the best of this time. I will ask a more direct question. Please answer as honestly as you can, will you do that for me?" I nodded my head affirmatively. "Why did you try to take your life?" Doctor Tutu did not address the elephant, she caught it by the trunk and wrestled it into submission. My mum adjusted again in her seat. Why did I try to take my life? "I don't know." I said without meeting her gaze.
"Elizabeth," Rhoda's voice called after me. I pretended not to have heard her and slightly increased my pace. "Elizabeth." she called again, this time she sounded close. A sigh escaped my lip. I stopped and turned to look at her, she was running and could not stop when I turned suddenly. She crashed into me, almost causing us to fall down.
"I am so sorry." she said, and I noticed her dimples for the first time.
"It is fine." I faked a smile.
"I want us to walk to the hostel together," she said, still trying to catch her breath. Please don't make it an every Sunday thing, I wanted to say but changed my mind.
To be continued...
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