Written by: Admin_SheEvo
These four walls are all I have seen for the past two months. This walk from my bedroom to the sitting room to the kitchen- dining room out to the porch, bathroom, and the guest room, that is all have seen these days. How did my life change so suddenly? I was once the most adventurous girl on the block, but now it is pitiful just how pathetic I have become. I wonder where all my social skills migrated to. I was that ambitious person who took risks and always had a smile on her face. It is ironic how before this, I used to want to stay indoors to read or watch movies all day long and now…oh, how I would love to go to those dreadful family get-togethers. I know I sound crazy…and the sad part is that I feel just as crazy, maybe crazier than I sound.
I kept looking out the window and hoping that anyone, even Suzan, the girl I could not stand, would just appear outside and talk to me. Face-to-face, not just online. How could the world suddenly shut down like this? We are social beings! We thrive off the energy of people as well as their attention, me more than others. I know how I sound, but…this monster came when I actually liked my life. It was going just fine. My studies, my friends, my family, everything was good, excellent even. And, of course, when they said we had to go home, all I thought was, “oh, how fun! I can stay in bed all day!” But I did not foresee the toll it would have on me. I keep hearing the voices that used to be quiet, silent and patiently waiting for a time like this, when I was alone, and before I thought that would never happen to me. I was always sheltered by people. I made sure of it. Until I was not!
Music plays every second of the day to fill the demanding silence. Where my thoughts, voices, words, and ideas brood over me like a deafening cloud, overwhelming my senses to the brim. Every now and then, I burst into tears. Hiding is no good! Where, I ask? No one is there to see, judge or at the least hear them. What a life I have!
Losing track of time is a common fixture. Today could be Tuesday or Sunday. I cannot tell… it is too much work to check. The phone ringing is another regularity, every day at the same time. My award-winning acting of pretending to be okay, productive and happy while burying an active volcano deep inside is just oscar-winning! How can I answer questions about my mental health when I do not know either. Oh, how I wish I knew! Can someone else face my demons for me? Instead, I am forever compelled to listen to the raucous roar of conflicting voices every waking second, and I cannot seem to understand why the universe and all the gods doomed me for the rest of my days.
In the brief moments when it is all quiet and peaceful in my head, I remember the days when I was just a college student, staying in the city, away from my overbearing and protective parents. When I was on top of the world, I was invincible well, except for the exam papers, which were torture.
That tiny pocket of air where I would call my friends, catch up with them, and see how they were doing in the lockdown. I would look around and think, “I can do this, I can be okay”,- but that positivity disappears in a blink of an eye, and I am back to where I started…empty, alone, except for the voices.
How does one survive one vicious past that keeps haunting and taunting relentlessly? How does one deal with such a time like this when isolated from humanity? Yet, they can see that there is still hope to live, love, and laugh. Is this how I will end up, along with ten, maybe twenty cats baking cookies for my nonexistent grandkids? Okay, I am a bit, if not highly, dramatic and self-pitting, but what am I supposed to think about? I am going through a lot, and maybe, or ideally, I should admit myself to a hospital. But they might as well turn me away, as I am too much for them to handle in this oppressive and insufferable pandemic. What am I to do but wallow in pain and endure to the end of this pandemic or of me, whichever comes first?
By Vannesa Birungi
Insta handle: @vannesa.birungi