I have tormented my mind over this post for a while now. The first intention for posting it was to shame myself to stop loving the loo that much, and oh that was before my brother died. Then he did and I went home for his burial and the loo’s love was so strong that I had to rush back there again for a whole night. The particular loo I slept in, was one he had often barricaded himself inside until the lock had to be ruined to get him out.
Well, the Loo or rather ‘toilet’ as it is known, was for a very long time our love Our place of refuge, calm and peace. The Us refers to my brother and I. My brother’s journey from a genius to a simpleton I am determined to publish by year’s end, while mine is already introduced in my thriller of a memoir published last February.
The last time I had a ‘loo episode’ (one where I will withdraw there and just stay there for as long as it took me to calm down or even fall asleep), I thought of writing a post about it. The intention then was to humiliate myself by making public one ‘bad’ coping mechanism (bad because staying shut up in there deprives others of the use of the loo, and I think it isn’t the nicest place to be right?). But the intention has changed and this post is both one of sensitization and one of farewell.
I want to in my typical way throw light on some flight technique mentally challenged people lie some of us, may gradually embrace and maybe later find difficult to abandon. In our case, it was our escape to the Loo. What started out of fright, became one out of love. In our minds, shutting ourselves up there was a way of staying away from the ‘noise and worries’ of the outside world. The threats that took us in there, could be both real or fake. I personally also loved going in there to cry (so that no one knew that the ‘tough’ Ayo ever cried).
Eventually, we each started loving the Loo. We retreated there each in his own time and place, we sometimes read in there, while our Father or whoever threatened, ranted outside. My brother told me how the Loo was his best corner while in a repatriation camp in Germany, or even in the group homes or institutions he was living or interned in out in the US.
On my part, I have always endeavoured since a teen and discovering this weird love of mine, to decorate my Loos, make them sweet smelling (mindful of the actual busines of the Loo). I have floor carpets just in case lying down on the floor will make it much better.
That is how, when went home to bury my brother and the panic, anxiety and irritations were threatening to overtake me, I lost sleep so much that I had to retreat to the Loo. Behold, my Love embraced me and made me lie my head down on one of the carpets l brought. I finally got to sleep for three sweet hours.
However, with my brother gone, and myself looking forward to heal completely and move on in a better spirit to better embrace my being and psyche, I have decided to say fare yee well to the Loo our Love.
So dear Loo or whatever ‘bad’ or difficult to abandon habit we may have, I know the tug of war to put an end to our love affair is just starting, but I really need to move on. Thank you for being such an unconditional love but now we have to draw a line.
Dear gentle readers and followers, do you have any similar strange habits too? How do you feel about them and have you tried getting rid of them and have anything to share?