Fear. That’s what I felt entering this year. Can I? Should I? Should I not? What if? Oh God, what if…
Tears. I literally cried into the new year. I couldn’t wait for the crossover service to be over. The countdown meant something entirely different for me. I just wanted to go home, hide in my room and weep. Anger and tears actually. Everyone was forming “Hayyyy, happy new year” in church. “Hug your neighbour”. “Welcome 5 people into the year somebody”. All I could think was “IF YOU FUCKING TOUCH ME!” “FUCK YOU AND YOUR EXCITEMENT”. Someone now said “Ahn ahn, Shola smile.” Omo, I wan mad. My head wan burst. My guy you wan chop slap at 12:05am? Fucking piss off man.
I ended 2014 on a very weird note. I was just depressed anyhow anyhow. Just be ranju-ing and I’ll start crying. Sey wetin na? I just wasn’t happy. One of the reasons, I hated (I still hate) school. Med school is a trap. Don’t do it. Be a housewife. There are rich alhajis looking for fine babes. Is your daddy fine? Can I submit my CV? Amtayad. The one thing that made me happy, my photography, was making me unhappy. Is making me unhappy actually seeing as I don’t have time for it, I don’t have time to work on all the fancy projects/ideas I have in my head. A book full of things I’d like to try out but no, Demi has to read for end of posting test. Nonsense on concobility. 6D just chilling in the corner gathering dust. Eeznornice.
Reading the year’s recap on Efe’s blog, I tried to think back on my 2014 in detail. I couldn’t. I didn’t remember shit. All I could think of was how I was feeling at the moment. 2014 couldn’t have been THAT bad now could it? Sure I’d had some awesome moments, I just couldn’t remember. So I decided to do two things to prevent that happening again…
i. 30 days of hope post. See how I started the year. Compare with a review post in december.
ii- journal. Hopefully at the end of the year I’d be able to read through, relive the moments, see growth, see fuckups etc. January is almost over and see, journaling is hard as fuck. But pushing on.
Random thought- I’m swearing a whole lot these days. One of my goals for last year and the one before was to reduce my swearing to the barest minimum. It worked. Till now. It’s sad. But I’m not sure I care. I should care but bleh. Sorry. But am I really sorry? You don’t like it? Well, fuck right off. Okay. I need to stop. Why am I so angry all the time? Lol.
Funfact- did you know High dose propylthiouracil is preferred because of its ability to inhibit peripheral conversion of t4 to t3? Well, now you know. And I’m telling you this now because I’m in class and that’s what I’m being taught, but mandem don zone out as usual and mandem is typing this post instead. So yeah. That.
2015. I want to be happy. I want to really really be happy.
‘Something has changed within me. Something is not the same. I’m through with playing by the rules of someone else’s game…’
I swear I did not just quote a glee song. I swear.
I’ve realised I put everyone’s feelings before mine. Why? Why can’t I be happy and fuck what you think? I mean, seeing as you obviously wouldn’t do the same for me, why am I disturbing myself? See, fuck you. I want it. I like it. Sorry you feel different.
I have two major exams this year. Major. One is in a few weeks and all I can say now is ‘LOL’. Funny how I’m a whole lot more prepared for the latter one. Not funny actually, seeing as this first one is sort of a rate limiting step. If I lana (which by faith and positive confession, I won’t, but taa ba fe sootoro funrawa….[If we want to tell ourselves the truth]), na serious gobe. Lol. I’m using eco to carry this thing, forming bad guy. Lol. Bruv, I dey fear. I dey fear. Okay now.
I need to work on my relationships. Friendships. “Ademisola, it’s okay to open up. Its okay to share your burdens. You are not superwoman. Relax”.
I have amazing people around me, I know, but I’ve never really let myself experience them if you get my drift. Started last year actually. Started reaching out more. Talking more. Listening more. Hanging out more. It’s not so bad. It’s okay not to be a loner.
I hope to experience my family more as well. I should have more in common with them than just blood. They’re good people. They make me feel like worst comes to worst, I have them, so nothing spoil. But I’m a gbef so…. I’m ashamed to say I’m just big sister shola by mouth most of the time. When I decide to go home after much complaint from my parents, it’s to lock myself up in my room and come out to “gbomi eba kana” (boil water for eba) when mumsi screams my name. They’re my family. They should be my niggas. I’ve been hanging out with my sister more. Talking to her more than usual. Still not enough, but progress. She’s a cool kid in her own way actually. Not bad at all. 2 more siblings to go. They never hesperred it.
Aha. Badassery. I need to believe more in my own badassery. Self esteem is lacking a lot of fleek. I didn’t realise it till very very recently and bruv…. What happened to me? Why did I let life’s bullshit strip me of that? “Ademisola You are beautiful, smart, sexy and talented I have always told u this” Shout out to Dr Wande Alimi. I AM THE SHIT.
Develop myself. That would help with the badassery. I used to think myself smart. Actually I was pretty smart. My brain is dead now fam. Dead and buried. I’m such an olodo. Joined Coursera. Signed up for a couple of courses (I haven’t gotten to completing any, but shaa, I’ve shaa signed up). First step. Ask questions. Life is not all about amylase and glutamyltransferase. See me talking as if the school book gaan, I know it. Olodo oshi. Ko mo doh [she knows nothing]! Lol. So yeah, feed my brain more.
Speaking of development, photography, hair blog. My friend Nimi and I started natural hair blog late last year, (kinkyinib.wordpress.com please subscribe, comment and give us ginger. Yes, shameless plug). We haven’t been regular unfortunately with it. School. Time. It’s sad. Posts come up in my head but before I can get to write them, I remember I have an assignment due the next morning. *sigh* hopefully, KII grows this year and we achieve what we hope to. I hope to pay more attention to shaniqua (for those of you who don’t know who she is, my hair). Have more fun with her. I attempted to dye it purple last year. Congrats to myself, my hair is gold. Don’t ask how that happened. I won’t give up. Purple rain.
Photography. Photography is what I live for. It’s what I want. So much to learn. So much to experiment with. So little time. So much fatigue. So little money. Lol. So little money oooo. Let me pass these exams first, gonna hit you people with some badass phorosnapz. Avril photography for the win. Follow the official avril page at instagram.com/avril_photography. I post on my personal page too. @demicarson when I’m feeling too lazy to sign out. Lol. Instagram needs to fix this problem.
I need to stop doing personal alaroro! Ha! Enough is enough. I work so hard for my money and I’ll be doing stingy stingy to myself. Kilode? I deserve good things as well. I find it hard spending money on things I need. ‘I can manage’ ‘it’s not that important’. Alaroro to the maximum. It needs to stop. I finally fixed my car’s horn, plugs and lights. Good step. My vehicle licence has expired since jan 2014. Lol. The day they’ll catch me? Its easy for me to save up to buy people stuff, buy photo equipment, but ask me to buy a pair of shoes for myself, wahala. No. It’s enough. Gotta be a funky babe. Oh, I need a laptop as well. Who’s ever heard of a professional photographer with no laptop for post production work? I’m a disgrace. So people, if you want to sow into my life… Let baba J use you. Please.
Fitfam. Lmaoooooooooooooooo. Oh boy. This one is an every year resolution. Ginger for a week, then stop. I’ve not even attempted it this year. How do you people find time to exercise? Maybe if I got an exercise mat I’d have inspiration right? I’ll try that. Till then, love handles are the new sexy.
I should finally develop balls and get surgery done on my wrist. Infact, I should fix all my medical problems this year. Or at least take steps to getting them sorted out. I’m too old to be acting like a child. Maybe this year is the year I’ll start wearing my glasses again or find the perfect pair of contacts. (Someone stole my contact lenses years ago. Who does that. I don’t get it. Prescription contacts. Humans are confusing).
Bible reading. Relationship with God. Even I am tired of myself. I’m trying. Grace. Please God, I’m here. Forreal. Use me. Ma wo mi n ran.
I need a therapist. This is not healthy. So much hurt. So much anger. So much fear. This is not healthy.
Disjointed post. I’m just typing as I feel it. No vex.
Lol, I finally cried today. It’s hard to build a new ‘normal’ for yourself. Resets are never easy. Crying helps. At least till you run out of tissue and need to start using your t-shirt to clean your ikunmu [mucus]. Then it’s just nasty and annoying.
2015. Year of the turn ups. I’m young. I should do young people things. Travel. Catch trips. I need to stop being such an old woman at heart. Create memories. Experience life. Because #ELKAFT. Eyan le ku any fucking time bruv [Anyone can die at any time]. I did a lot of that this Christmas/New year though. Hi5 to me. Best fun I’ve had in a loooong time.
Oh yeah… Waist beads. Definitely more waist beads this year. Jigida alive.
Can I just live? Can I just be happy? For myself? I deserve to be happy. Please.
I need to learn to forgive myself. This is necessary. Everybody makes mistakes. I’ve made mine. It’s okay.
If I don’t stop typing now, na to write book o… It’s understandable if you didn’t read through the whole post. Karamo mi po [My overdo is plenty]. I didn’t think this was what my post was going to be about but hey….
Off to study. If I fail, nobody is going to say ‘ehn, its because she’s depressed’. So… Pray for me guys. I’m not even joking. Please. Grace. Favour. Strength. Peace. Strength. Strength. Strength.
30 days of hope. I need me a lifetime supply.