Deroda's Diary

“So, who are you really?” Tolu asked. I was quiet for what seemed like minutes. I knew who I was, of course I did. But as I thought about it, I realized there was nothing positive to say. Who am I? Really  I repeated in my head. The replies came fast, like puppies rushing to their owner, trying to be counted. Depressive, shame-prone, overly self conscious, overly sensitive and emotional, given to fear and anxiety, not good enough, wrong body, rejected. The list was endless. Pouring out of my mind like it had been waiting for this moment. A moment of revelation. This is me. A network of everything wrong. I sank into self pity. I felt the tear build up in my eyes and my face felt too hot. A nudge in the right direction, and I would be crying like one mourning a lost loved one. My head remained bowed for a long time. I relived every moment of my past I hated and wished I could change. I was so lost in thought I did not see Tolu approach me. He had moved his seat besi...

        "I am sorry to hear that." I said slowly. "My parents fought all the time," he continued, a soft smile on his face. "Eventually when she could no longer endure the beatings my mother left without a goodbye when I was 10. I have two older siblings. While they reacted to the problems differently, I found I was more sensitive and emotional. It was hard to live with. I grew up bitter at my parents, myself, God and life. I would think, if not for this incidents, I would have turned out better. For a long time, I battled with a negative image of myself. I was a victim of sexual abuse, the child of divorced parents and soon an active follower of all the vices you could think of. It was hard to see myself as anything more than that. But there was light at the end of the tunnel. So, what's your story?". "Something similar," I said plainly. "Why are you so uncomfortable in your skin?" "I am comfortable. What makes yo...

              My wardrobe depicted the state of my mind, a huge mess. The gowns and Cardigan I hung at the top were slipping from the hangers. My clothes lay in piles unfolded, after getting them from the line yesterday I was too tired to fold them. I had turned out the bag containing my undies, headwear and belts yesterday in a hurry. My clips lay atop the mess. Some provision had spilled from placing them improperly or dropping some while using it. I had enough time before my first lecture. Mondays are quite spaced for me. I plugged my headphones and got to work. Some notifications interrupted my music. I took out my phone from my pocket to check it. I scrolled down and saw WhatsApp chats from a number. Probably Sir Tolu. Should I reply now or later? I clicked the message. He was still online. 'Surviving. And you?' I responded to his 'how are you this morning'. I turned off my data connection before he could reply.          ...