My Ss Hero showed up to pick me just as l had expected
He had this fragile and yet empathetic stare
He stood by me while my mental challenges poked from several angles
He tried his best and l add took the test
l however thought he was so much of the puzzle
He thought l was so full of over-reactions and non-adaptability
I then realized that wasn’t the fairy tale I was dreamy of
I don’t know if I’ll ever be fooled to dream that dream again!
In the meantime my Ss Hero didn’t throw me out
He let me be while I faced more of me
He supported me on while I made the decision to quit
Yeah he did help me lots as I moved out
I now affirm that there’re surely several left turns before the Right
And yet my Ss Hero almost made me think the this turn looked Right!
I guess you don’t find many of such even among the stars
One of such exception to the general rule?
And so my Ss Hero, for all you taught me, for all you did for me, for all you didn’t or couldn’t, the joy, pain, and all you let me do and be; and oh for our last supper: I’ll for ever be grateful
My Ss Hero you’ll always be!
Wow, so am I to start crying now or rather stop? I have been wondering if this Mk as I call him, was for real. Could he be that secret angel I wrote about recently? I just stumbled on this post lyrics… and could I just sing speechless… to you both? Thank you both, soon my water will run dry because I must admit that I cry much more for joy until my headaches if you get what I mean.
I have blogged for years now. But I never met a man as gentle and kind as Mihran Kalaydjian. Because aside from the fact that he had been so generous reblogging my posts, there was this one very warm conversation I had with him.
When I posted my condolences to our dear Ajaytao, I made Mihrank cry that day. Although I was worried if I made him cry because I wrote bad; or I wrote something for Oscar’s (coz I do have the tendency for drama), but I was really touched with his honest sentiment. Coz Mihran never met Ajay, yet he shed a tear for him. He even asked me “Why am I crying, Aina?” I told him, “It’s because Mihran, you’re a gentleman with a very big heart and beautiful soul.” And so we were both crying in the end.
And I mean those words up to…
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Yes, I may really be going ‘shaggy’ right? Which was one is this now with both a hero and heroine in one person with such a first name? Well, just as it reads. Am fine by that and be it under the influence of mental illness, I don’t care.
I grew up hearing tales of John and Mary. I had always wished I would end up with a man called John. Well, that hasn’t happened yet and maybe it simply wouldn’t. I am out of that market.
Anyway, I finally met someone called John, right here on my blog. What a blahpedia my friend is? Check him out. I am so happy to have met someone who can be an unconditional friend and one I can also share with unconditionally.
It’s been a long while since I had such a friend. Friendships just like other serious relationships, grow from nurturing. Especially when they are such honest friendships, no judgments, nor envy, squabbles – in africa we say no WAHALA.
I hope to finally meet John some day and I hope not to be disappointed. Not bothered by looks, but by ‘mischievous feelings’. I also want to be prepared to kiss a woman or grandma were it be so revealed.
In the meantime, I asked john to be a beta reader for my brother’s book, and he agreed. Men, john surely barely sleeps. He gets all sort of information out there, and I have read and learnt so much since we met.
I admire my friend for wanting to learn and do so much about his mental health, and for sharing his journey so. Fortunately, South Africa could as well be on my way to Cameroon right? I mean, we could always find a way to do what we truly want. I just wish none of us leaves this earth without hugging each other tight.
I so wish us both well my dear john, and trust me when I say I give a damn about a person’s inclinations – just his sincerity.
Dear gentle readers and followers, wishing you all the best in your relationships too 🙂
It is with a heavy heart that I write this post on my one and only brother’s birthday, I really wish somebody could tell me what is wrong with my brother?
I have an idea, l know some of what he’s been through, l have been with him some of that grueling journey. But that’s all l have – ideas!
l once wrote a post on my brother, whose brother? in which I reminisced or childhood and how l fought to defend my brother.
My brother wasn’t always sick
My brother was and still is my mum’s favorite. I mean, that is her only son and our only brother. In addition to that, he was super intelligent. He could remember so many things and much more, an aunt of ours always says his brain is a computer which needs downloading. He was my best playing mate at home, I was the closest to a football mate he could find. My brother loved his mother’s skirts, and often hid behind them to avoid our dad’s ‘stare’.
Then, something went wrong
l sincerely can’t tell but l know something happened over 15 years ago. They said it was whatever then. We were in boarding school and l just recall my brother going into fits and l having to cry for help and go along as he was taken to the hospital. I would visit often and stay some with him, but l noticed my brother was changing and beginning to behave ‘queer’. For example, he would discharge himself and get lost just walking away in some direction.
It looks like a depression though no actual diagnosis to date?
Strange it may seem, I have still not heard what is wrong with my brother. l know for a fact that he suffered some nervous break down, several times, and is no more the brother l grew up with. l can’t tell what is the name of the mental illness, but l saw him suffer breakdown after the other, go from one hospital to the other, and behave in the most abnormal and violent of ways l could ever imagine.
Do l have a right to know?
For crying out loud, l am his sister, as affected by his condition as anyone who truly cares can be. l know l am not his mother and don’t want to be, but l think l have a right to know. l however know it is not witchcraft. This is a practice and belief still very much ingrained in the ‘African Mind’. l would be lying if l say it wasn’t initially considered a cause of my brother’s ailment.
Why all the Stigma?
l am beginning to find out a lot about mental illness and l am reading lots of stories and reaching out too. l now see why some people prefer not to know what is happening or better still, don’t want to identify with someone suffering a nervous breakdown. The stigma alone can make the patient and his family go real nuts.
Oh, please it will be more consoling attributing the illness to witchcraft or a ‘demonic attack’ right? l have always loved such ‘sick’ people like ‘mad men’, prostitutes, street kids, you name them. Maybe in them I see a little of myself and my brother?
I am on a mission
Whatever be the case, l am on a mission. l want to learn as much as possible about mental illness and how those ‘angel patients’ live it all. Men, l am sure l survived by a string. Now, many people are opening up and some good networks exist for patients and affected members alike. The Mental Health Talk blog by Trish, is my blog of choice for info and l am so grateful for my pal H&J of the Bipolarbum for visiting me here and following me. Thanks to him, I learnt of the Skype Peer support initiative and l signed up to be a support peer.
Dear gentle readers and followers of mine, am l the only one with such a brother and tale? Sharing is caring! May whoever is going though a dilemma like mine or still affected by the loss of a loved one to mental illness or a changed life due that, find strength in knowing they are not alone. l just hope, sometime sooner than later, someone will tell me what is wrong with my brother?
I once wrote a post on four great men of mine and Jeff was one of them. Now, you may wonder why I am doing one exclusively on Jeff right? Well, as the heading goes, he is now my coach – not football coach though but hmm, life coach.
Meeting and choosing Jeff
I remember stumbling on Jeff’s website and then hopping over to his blog and this was my very first comment: “Hi Jeff, shout out from an MJC (Mary just come or a something like; ‘just landed soul on Mars’) like me”. I was so happy to have the following response from Jeff: “Hi MJC, with passion and courage, you will soon become an MKP ( Mary knows plenty)”
That sealed it for me back then. I started following Jeff and his works like a wounded lion. Then he advertised some free initial consultation and I was like oh Ayo aren’t you lucky?
Then I followed my Intuition and opened up
I didn’t know where I will find the money to invest from there but I knew I had to sign up at least for one of those free 30 minutes consultation. I so needed one because I was having a very tough time convincing my mother about having to publish my book. Yes that book again- that unconventional memoir.
I reached out to Jeff and let me share an excerpt of what I got, some as put in my own words to my mother:
“For me, Life is expression. We are happiest, glowing, at our best, most fulfilled when we are able to freely and openly express ourselves.
While wishing my Friend Vincent a happy birthday, it is in all appreciation for his generosity that I re-blog this post of his. Do we identify with some of his life’s lessons?
Today is my birthday. As I look back at my life’s journey over the years, there have been several experiences and lessons that have altogether shaped me into the person I have become today. Nothing reflects most of my life experiences and lessons like this piece I found on the internet:
I’ve learned that you cannot make someone love you. All you can do is be someone who can be loved. The rest is up to them;
I’ve learned that no matter how much I care, some people just don’t care back;
I’ve learned that it takes years to build up trust, and only seconds to destroy it.
I’ve learned that you can get by on charm, for about fifteen minutes. After that, you’d better know something;
I’ve learned that either you control your attitude or it controls you.
I’ve learned that no matter how hot and…
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This is a very tough one I must admit right?
I mean even psychologists can only say as much, what less of me? What am I venturing into?
In a previous article I did for the Divorce Magazine, I talked about the conversations my ex-husband and I never had until recently.
Why couldn’t we discuss our emotions and hence find solutions to whatever we were going through?
I have admitted not discussing even 1/5th of my emotions. Well, not that I didn’t want to but because the opportunities were almost ever never there.
Is it only tradition, religion or something else? Is it that even the men don’t want to discuss emotions at all be it theirs or yours?
I know there are some men who do and that’s good for them. I am sure these ones have seen the benefits in discussing their emotions but I know there are many more who still think it is ‘macho’ not to discuss them.
People, admitting nor discussing our emotions can cause irreparable damages, have been there – done that and so at least am an example.
I came across this you tube clip on men and their emotions and share it with you while wishing you a fruitful week.
What is your take on this dear gentle readers and followers of mine?
I definitely agree with this so much that i can’t help but reblog it. I once named Vincent amongst 4 great men of mine and he was very modest and humble in his appreciation. It is not the numbers but the quality that matters. He is yet to convince me he isn’t aiming for the moon nor that I should follow him closely. thank you Vincent – yes it all boils down to us!
In the journey towards success in life I have discovered that more often than not there are more people who will try to stop you than aid you, even from among our family and friends. And if we give in to their words and pressures, we give them the power to control our lives. So no matter what stage you are in the pursuit of your dreams, remember this; your success or failure…boils down to you, and no one else.
There are people who will discourage you if you set ambitious goals, but never you mind them because, without goals there can be no achievement. There are people who will frown upon you as you seek a better life, but keep seeking because it is essential that all of us find our true place if happiness is to be found. There are those who will laugh and ridicule you…
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This is very interesting. I sure will contact him for l think l like the harshness of his realities. I am sure one author who sulks at marketing herself. Thank you Jason.
What a title right? Well, here is its explanation. When I fought some tough fights in primary school to protect my brother, and when the head teacher or whoever asked me after managing to separate the fight why I fought, I always answered thus ” I saw them beating my brother, whose brother?” l cared less if he was at fault!
Last week, I wrote a post on sibling love and how tough it was for me, wondering how tougher it should be. I said my brother, my one and only bore of our mother, was my favorite.
Well, you will not fight five big girls or even boys if what you fought for wasn’t worth it, right?
Oh, how l miss my brother. I mean we talk to each other often but things are not the same anymore. We live continents apart and have tough personal struggles going on every now and then.
When I came across this picture quote, I was shaken with tears for so many memories abound:
And here are a few:
I remember in 2003 when I announced to my family that I was pregnant and out of wedlock. Oh no, visualize a scene for yourselves in a typical african family – hmm and who was the biological father of that ‘foetus’ – A PRIEST!
Sure, hell broke loose. My brother woke up to screams and slaps and curses, and even though he was very sick, he stormed that room and displayed to protect me and my womb.
He asked if I had killed anybody and the answer was no. He asked if I was of Ben laden and the answer was no. He chided them to go after Ben Laden and to leave me alone. Period. He ordered me to come and sleep by him and he would see who will dare touch me again.
I did sit on his bed as he tried to sleep but I couldn’t out of so much Fear. I feared the ‘saga’ will resume and I feared for my brother who had over agitated and gotten so nervous and dare I say violent? He was currently going through several health problems amongst which was a depression.
Of course the next morning, he broke down and had to be rushed to a neurologist cum psychiatrist. He at some lucid interval asked that I come and stay with him in the hospital and I gladly did for his one week stay there.
I also remember the first eyeliner I got. It was blue my favorite colour and it was from my brother, sent all the way from Germany.
So, it is easy to imagine the kind of bond I have with my brother. l was a tom boy because I played with my brother who had no brother at home or friends so to speak in the neighbourhood. I won’t even talk about the relationship he had with our dad.
As I write this post, my brother still has a lot of issues and all I can do is call him every now and then and just talk with him as he wants. He appreciates my calls and he sometimes shares memories.
Yes, I will always love my brother above all. I accompanied him to apply for and get his visa and papers and I will hopefully visit him next year. For now, all I can say is: My brother, whose brother…
Dear gentle followers of mine, what is your take and what do you have to say or share?