I was the type of baby that was afraid of my own farts.
yap...
I don't remember it though.
It's my Mum who liked to recounter the story.
It amused her to tell it.
ffffffFFFFFffffffffffffffurrrrrrrrrrrrrp!
She would imitate my scrunched up chubby petrified baby face.
I loved listening to her narrate the story because this particular memory tickled the cheeky part of her soul.
Apparently I was somewhere in the corner minding my own baby business and....
fffffffFFFFFFffffffffffffffurrrrrrrrrrrrrp!
Everyone turns to look at the cute distressed farting baby.
Now when I think more on it.....was the baby me afraid of the sound of my fart or the fact that farts drew people's attention to me?
Don't worry, I grew to learn that good girls don't fart in public.
It's a story that make me chuckle to recall, and it tickles the cheeky part of my soul too.
Baby me was frightened of my own body.
Anyways... I am sharing this story because I want to call your attention to space and respect.
I think some human beings don't understand the concept of personal space, and I just wish that we could all learn this lesson carefully and responsibly.
When I speak of space it is not just physical, but emotional and mental as well.
Like for example unnecessary whatsapp group creations!?!
Dear millennials and eager generation Zs, please think these things through thoroughly
before clicking on that add button...
We do not need a whatsapp group for everything!
We do not need to be in constant communication over a meme, pictures of dead celebrities or some misogynistic joke seen on twitter
Sometimes we should just respect people's space,
and in turn learn to healthly assert our own.
[Unless you are one of my siblings...
cause really in an African family what is 'personal space' anyway?]
Now....
How to connect the farting-baby-story, personal space and whatsapp groups ?
I don't know.
Somehow my brain brought the two together...
So I started writing.
And here you are.
Thank you for dropping by.
Always appreciated.
ffffffffffFFFFFFFFFFFFFFurrrrrrrrp!
Oops.
Apologies.
That's will be all for now .
Until the next post...
Dear B.
I came home to find these 3D cinema glasses on my desk,
still after all these years they still grab my attention.
Do you remember the movie you took me to see?
Yours Sincerely M.
---------------
Dear B.
You were miserable in the cinema that day.
But I held my tongue.
I didn't know how to help you.
How can you assist someone so busy shutting everyone out?
They told me, "You shouldn't speak to your man
the same way you would your best friend."
"Men like to figure their s*&% out alone."
I let you pretend that you were fine.
I stayed quiet.
Even as you walked right out of my life.
Yours Sincerely M.
---------------
Dear B
I have decided not to be silent anymore
I know they all told me to keep my mouth shut in good faith.
They said that everything happened for the best.
But it hasn't worked B,
cause I still think about you.
Yours Sincerely M.
-------------
Dear B
If there is one thing I hate about myself...
It's that I am loyal.
Loyal to those I care about;
Even to friends & family who wouldn't think to do the same for me.
Yours Sincerely M.
-------------
Dear B.
I am putting up my white flag.
I need to be my warm bubbly self again.
You were always so good at the 'silence' game.
I can't pretend to be cold anymore.
I can't pretend to be unwelcoming anymore.
My heart will always be happy to see you.
Yours Sincerely M.
--------------
Dear B
I am calling you back to me,
because I know this is exactly where you are
meant to be.
Yours always M.
Mini episodes occur
Not Regularly though
The last ones were years ago
Yet I remember them in detail
I know my symptoms & triggers.
The very first is my ability to inhale & exhale.
Conscious effort is required.
I doubt whether I am worthy to be here
Worthy enough to breath
Every five minutes I gulp air down
But the world feels tight.
Unaccommodating and heavy
I question whether I can do this.
Then I can't sit still,
It is exacting to focus on my daily routine.
I live in a quiet bubble of imagined terror.
My mind is on loop, like badly written JavaScript
Something bad is about to happen I feel the urgency but I'm not prepared.
You know you can't always fight every mind war
with positive affirmations, lavender oil & chamomile tea.
The internet should know better than to tell us such things.
Best to find a secret place, put up your white flag and surrender.
Sun Tzu advises,
" If he can fight, he advances and takes the offensive;
If he cannot fight he retreats and remains in the defensive."
Picture someone placing a coffee mug close to the edge of your kitchen table.
Something knocks it... and you watch from a distance as it falls to ground,
you are powerless to save it.
I am the cup and and I can't stop myself from falling.
I just hope the mess on the floor won't be too difficult
for me to pick up and piece back together.
It might be a calm Sunday evening, however in my mind all hell is breaking loose.
A fire is starting and I am not sure how long it will take to put it out.
How much will it destroy along the way?
I have built so much of myself during this time of peace & stability.
Will there be anything left when it's done?
I reach out to those close to me to tell them.
Maybe if I speak on it, it will retreat
I exercise so that the raging fire will have less energy to burn through the night,
But at some point in those 24 hours I know I will be alone.
Alone in head,
Alone with my thoughts,
Alone with the shadows
Until I let them overcome me, they will not go.
Now I am worried,
Will I find my way back?
Will it all still be there, exactly as I left it?
I scold my self,
"There is nothing there, what are you frightened of?"
"A grown adult cannot be afraid of mind monsters "
But the shadows reply,
"You must let us swallow you whole
then hold your breath long enough to find your way out.
But YOU know how this works!
Why must you fight us every single time!? "
It's the power of my own voice that pulls me out from the ashes.
The one that recites Psalms in the morning before sunrise.
Exactly the way the Prayer Warrior told me to say them.
That's how I say them.
I read them out loud, keep my voice steady and consistent
She clearly instructed me,
"It's your job to have the the faith of a mustard seed
It God's job to do the rest."
When these episodes are over I forget,
Life becomes good again
I can breath in and out.
My chest is reckless.
Oxygen is in plenty.
I forget the intensity and hopelessness,
Until I see the triggers, then feel the symptoms
I get still and frightened
Because when the cup falls over the edge again
I think to myself,
What if this time...
What if this time, I don't make it out?
(Btw find me on Twitter @mariajulietrose )
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