The Break and Everything Inbetween 2

A continuation from my first entry here

I practically changed my sleeping schedule to keep him ‘virtual’ company while he nursed his dad. His dad passed away without him even asking me to go see him. Yes, it was during the pandemic but asking is not a bad thing. I asked him to come over while I was at a work event so I could see for myself how he was doing, in his angry moment, he made that request seem like the dirtiest thing he had ever been asked. I had yet to feel like trash as an adult until this second experience of him. If that was his intention, he succeeded.

Do you know what I got out of all this? A stress injury because of texting. This guy NEVER called. Emotional and physical trauma because the onslaught of emotions was too much for me to bear. My chest ached every time I recalled this experience. Because of all this, I returned to spontaneous public and private meltdowns. My most memorable days of this were the breakdown at DFCU Bank, my workplace and a field trip to Kasese. 

One morning at work; it hit me that I should have stayed home because I was not emotionally well to function as an employee. My heart ached so much that my eyes smarted from the tears I was trying to hold back. I took a bathroom break to cry and then returned to my workstation. Then came the field trip to Kasese. While there, my colleague kept asking, ‘Shanah, what is wrong?’, she asked this more than once for two days. On the second day, I told her not to ask me again. That night, after I returned to my room, I broke down because of the implication of his leaving the country without telling me. It felt like the worst betrayal ever. I had not done anything wrong to this person for him to act this way nor treat me this way. 

After crying for over two hours, I took a sleeping agent to calm my nerves. The last thing I wanted was to fall sick because of the intense emotional distress and being so far from home.  

You would think I was done with tears, no? I had one more flood left in me. I went to DFCU Bank, Ntinda branch to withdraw money. I found the bank closed. I had come from far. I needed the money. I did not have any other day to make the trip again. The frustration of this and everything bad I was dealing with brought on a public breakdown. I cried and sobbed like I had lost someone. The sob fest included snot, strained veins on the head and sweat. The attendants had to open the bank because I was becoming a public spectacle. They took me inside, gave me some water, asked me what was going on. Eh! I cried through all their questions and attempts to comfort me for over thirty minutes. 

Ten months in 2022 were spent feeling the ugly feelings and trying to work through it all so my depression does not worsen. The stress injury does persist when I text anyone for longer than five minutes, and I abandoned prayer. Other than that, I am doing well emotionally and mentally. I may not have published anything in this space for two years but everything that happened between then and now is in my journal. 2023 raked me over the coals, too. But I firmly believe that all that I went through in 2022 gave me the fortitude to handle everything that I experienced last year.  

We can conclusively say that he is the one who was never ready, that is, if he does not have a sadistic streak. In all consciousness, no one deserves to be treated so shabbily especially when they are pure of heart. 

The Break and Everything Inbetween...

TWITTER: @chrislil_gh

Two years ago, I took an abrupt break from publishing in this space. It feels like a lifetime. Reading through old posts to find my footing brought back tons of mixed emotions especially with the entries of 2021. There is a lot of dirty water under the bridge to muck through while I go about acquainting myself with Simply Shanah (the blog), and the readers that leave comments.  

Are you EVER ready? 

That title marked my last entry in 2021. At the time; it was a cover for what I was going through. what I wanted to write about but could not. I allude to this in the last sentence of the post.

Time has been kind to this wound. It is no longer sore; I can talk about it without breaking into tears; it no longer has the sting of a fresh wound. I will pinch the emotional scab a little. By the way; pinching at scabs is one of my nervous gestures though I do it mostly on my lips. 

Well, I have tried to love the same man twice! Only a handful of people knew this. Both times have been mired in terrible heartbreak. This last time; after I had dealt with the hurt and the pain, I came to the realization that God probably made this person for the purpose of letting me know that a human, I have met in my adult life, has the potential to do away with me, if I am not careful. I wholeheartedly believe this. Nothing can explain why someone comes to another party (who is minding her single business) with declarations of love only to sustain that person in months long texts and eventually ghosting the person. Not once but twice. 

Initially, I was friends with this person. We vibed as friends. I never held any romantic ideation where he was concerned. But I am such a hermit. I take forever to date, and I can honestly say that I have no idea how to relate romantically. 2015 was the one year I tried this dating and being in a relationship with a son of Adam. It did not end that well because we argued a lot, conversations were strained. We drifted apart. 2018; this guy makes his first declaration in one of the worst years of my life, as an adult. It was the year I had the accident. Midway through my recuperation, he ghosted. Who does that? I was physically and emotionally broken. I do not know how I got through that year because I was convinced that I would not make it to 2019. 

Surprisingly, I did. I have had the honor of making some good friends as an adult. One friend in particular kept checking on me, I talked it over and over with my ride or die sister and I survived this horrible experience. I should have let sleeping dogs lie, no? I have countable friends and this person is the one person who knew all the milestones of my life, outside my closest circle of friends. I reached out to him. I told him how deeply he had hurt me and that if his feelings had changed, all he had to do was tell me because I valued our friendship. Another thing I have realized since 2018 is that I value friendships 100 percent while some value their friendship with me at 1 percent. 

He apologised. We flowed once again like we had not spoken to each other in one and a half years. Outside my immediate family, he made my two weeks of hospitalization in 2020 a bearable experience. Late 2020; he kept hinting at his feelings, littering terms of endearment here and there but not being outright until early 2021. I was very shocked to receive a heartfelt hearts day text. From then on it was touch and go. My intuition kept rearing its ugly head, I would tell him my fears and he would brush them off. At the end of it all, my fears did come to life. He not only ghosted me but left the country without so much as a by your leave my way. What made this incredibly hard is the way I found out. I found out from a friend...

To be continued

Search My Feelings...

Do you ever sit and scrutinise your feelings? Feelings that wash over you when you least expect it? 

Last night, in a dream, it occurred to me that this guy I have been texting with for the longest time ever, he and I shall not materialise into anything. When this came to me, I thought I’d hurt incredibly but I’ve spent the day searching myself, my thoughts, my feelings over the entire situation and I’m OK. 

We cannot force people into being what they cannot be for us. This is something I’ve come to learn. I guess I should cry over the empty promises, the awakened feelings that invariably end in disappointment and deflation. In years I least expect someone to turn my head, make me believe in the impossible and leave me either in limbo or hanging. I should cry for letting myself dream about stuff I really have no business dreaming about but not yet. There are no tears yet. Perhaps they will come at a later date. 

For now, I feel apathetic. What this person does, who he does it with is entirely up to him. All I know is I’m done. I’m tired of holding onto hope over an impossibility. I’m also tired of pandering to people’s emotions and feelings. 

I wish I could give up on this. On trying to find a partner. But, I feel that I’ve given up on a lot more that  I wanted in this life that to give up on this would be the ultimate let down. Dying alone is something I don’t want for myself and it’s what drives me to give it a go when someone catches my fancy. I try once opportunity arises but it seems it’s never enough. 

I am not hurt that you’ll never grace me with your physical presence, that you really have no desire to see me or see you live up to your promises, no. I’m hurt that you make me want to cease all attempts to find a partner and acquaint myself with the thought of being self-partnered for life, again!

He Called Her At Midnight

"She looks so sad."

"That is one beautiful drawing, what inspired it?"

"Weren't you afraid to show such naked emotion in a design?"

These were some of the comments and questions raised by her visitors. The ones she deigned to let across the front door for she was a private person and valued her solitude. Her hand shook slightly as her index finger traced the lines of a heart-shaped face, big eyes full of incomprehensible sorrow and pink lips pursed in disdain. Save for the pink lips; black encompassed the piece and put forth the emotions that could never be hidden even after the passage of time. 

Looking at her, so dark and laden with emotions; the events leading to her  existence unfolded before her eyes. It took a great deal of effort to bring herself back from the abyss the breakup with Max had thrown her into. There had been days when her despair was too potent for her to get through, days where she turned up to work in full black because that was the only way she could explain her mood and dressing required a lot more effort than she had. Days where she would take constant bathroom breaks at work just to shed the tears in her heart. When the pain was too intense and breathing had become a chore. 

Time was indeed the healer of all wounds. To be able to look back on all that pain and feel a slight niggle of disappointment in the people they failed to be for each other attested to her emotional state. She was even crazier for entertaining the thought of seeing him again. 

“Had he changed? Would he notice the woman she had become? Had their time apart been as hard for him as it had for her at the beginning?” All these questions rotated in her mind like a spinning wheel and almost made it impossible for her to return to the task at hand. One thing was certain, Max was hurting and needed her. That is all that mattered, for now. 

Alexandra gave the piece one last glance and put it back on the mantle. Looking at her work from this vantage point gave her a level of satisfaction she could never get enough of. Art has always been there for her; even in her darkest days, she could rely on it to bring her back from the depths of despair. 

Dawn was soon breaking and she needed to put the finishing touches to the draft she was currently working on for a close friend. He had commissioned a piece from her on a whim so she wanted to knock his socks off with her artistic interpretation of his name. A smile crossed her face as she thought of him. 

Liam. He had came into her life when she least wanted to form lasting ties with anyone let alone a man yet couldn’t turn down his offer of friendship.

The Value of Sacrifice

When you talk about self investment; people assume that you’re talking from a background of privilege. An assumption that could not be further from the truth.
Self-investment especially in the area of work takes sacrifice. It’s a deliberate choice to forego something for the other to make your life and performance better.
A couple of months ago; a colleague was moving on from our shared workplace. I remember asking her if she really was not interested in investing in herself and buying a tangible reminder of her effort at this particular workplace. She had been complaining about the lack of a personal laptop and a low-grade mobile phone that couldn’t perform work functions like sending emails, taking notes and good photos. And,  the general lack of disposable equipment for each individual’s use.
Many hold the sentiment that your workplace is supposed to provide the environment, and equipment for you to perform to the best of your ability in that role. But, what if your workplace cannot provide yet needs your skills? Does that mean you are incapable of performing to the best of your abilities? Should the lack of equipment limit you from putting in your best effort with personal resources?
So many people depend on the provisions of the workplace and fail to see the need for self-investment.  Many have moved from workplace-to-workplace without so much as a personal laptop which in today’s world is an equipment we cannot leave without.
After my second stint of employment; I recall telling a workmate that I was employed because I came with a mobile office. I already had my personal laptop, tablet and smartphone therefore lessening the demands and cost of my position to the organisation. I used personal equipment for two years until the organisation amassed enough funds to provide me with a work laptop and this was due to an ethical dilemma.
One can only cite “I do not have the necessary equipment to perform this task” as an excuse before it stops to wash. Recruiters are looking for problem-solvers, out of the box-thinkers and generally self-motivated individuals willing to go the distance in the performance of their duties despite the low resources. Recruiters are also aware of their shortcomings but it does not stop them from taking on skilled individuals. If anything; they are also looking at how you solve that particular problem without incurring more costs for them.
As individuals; we should look further than waiting for the workplace to provide and invest in ourselves because every tangible output from our on sweat is ours to hold and proof of sacrifices made not necessarily privilege.

Image credits: googledotcom

Champion Your Work!

'You are as good as your last project. You are as good as your last pitch. You are as good as your last review. And with every day that passes, that project pitch or review will lose its wonder.' - Ross Simmonds

I first wrote about self marketing after a workshop held for volunteers and interns at my workplace. Back then; it was based on the background of employment and promotion. But, how about if a person is a creative? A writer or an actor? How do they go about having their work out there?
Last week: I came across a tweet from a blogger saying that she had written a topical piece for a program. Unfortunately, the piece was rejected and it left her deflated. She had put a lot of effort into the composition of the piece and the bad review almost crushed her. However, she did not let it get her down. She shared the same piece on a different platform and was contacted about it a few weeks later.
In the same week; the nominations for the Emmy Awards were announced. HBO, the famous home of that little show Game of Thrones had left out actress Gwendoline Christie from its list of submission for nominees. She took matters into her own hands and submitted her own work. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity for her to get recognition for the craft she loves so much and she got it. She received her letter of nomination from the Emmy Awards Committee and the rest as they say is history!
Personally, I participated in a writing competition for the Uganda Feminist Forum by writing an op-ed on the theme 'Silencing our fears and fearing our silence'. Acceptance into the convening depended on the success of one's submission and I really wanted to gain entry into that space. Topical pieces are typically not my forte as history serves. Since I know myself well and are very conversant of my not so lucky streak when it comes to these pieces; I kept it at the back of my mind to share the piece here. It was reflective of my hardwork and sweat for it to be hidden away like something I was not proud of.
Surprise of all surprises? I recieved an invite to the Uganda Feminist Forum! I was so giddy with excitement and disbelief that it took awhile for it to sink in. I then took to my social networks to share the excitement! To this date; I am still happy at the thought that that op-ed scored me a invite into a space that is closed to many. I still harbour the intention of sharing the op-ed on this space for I am extremely proud of myself and the piece.
With all that said: I am requesting us to become champions of our work as creatives. Let us not let the bad reviews, lack of appreciation from companies, organisations and institutions that we work for stop us from gaining the recognition that we seek. Let us take advantage of the platforms available to us and use them in our favor.
You do not have to wait for people to appreciate you in order to appreciate yourself especially when it comes to your work. Be your own Champion and let the world marvel at your grit, determination and work.

Dear Love...

Dear Love,

You will have to forgive me for writing you this letter but I feel that it is long over due. I have waited patiently for your arrival for so long that sometimes I forget that I am actually waiting. I am slowly starting to accept the fact that I just may be that one person in the family that may never discover the beauty within you.

The times that I think deeply about you make me question your existence. Are you there for me? Are you not a figment of my imagination? Are you not an illusion I entertain courtesy of the Romance novels I have poured over the years to make my soul happy? To nurture my wanning faith in your actual existence?

There are a handful of instances where I felt that you were so close that not only could I believe in your true existence but could languish in the feelings that the thought of you evoked. In these instances; I have experienced nothing but snatched hope and dreams.

Rejection, disappointment and ghosting at your expense have brought me unimaginable pain. Pain I did not think I would ever experience time and time again coupled with my other lot in life. Physical pain heals but emotional pain, there is no permanent relief for that except time, endurance and acceptance.

If there is anything this life has shown me; it is that to accept to hurt interminably for an unknown period of time takes sheer will power many do not have and neither do I. I almost came close to throwing in the towel this time last year because it was heartwrenchingly tough for me to withstand being emotionally and physically broken at the same time.

Would you believe it if I told you that I have rivulets of tears streaming down my face while penning you this letter? I would like to believe that it is cathartic but that would be lying. I have been crying on and off since July begun for no good reason. No. There is a good reason. I tend to lose people that I actually care for and presumably care for me in this month. And last year, well... I gathered my self--respect and lost again.

I look back on the times I was led on because of you. The times I have had my hopes crushed out of empty promises. The times I have believed in the words of humans that have never so much as paid for my data subscription and worst of it all; having to share my most prized dream - little Shanah's existence and mapped out life like she was a useless piece of gossip to share with everyone.

I hate you for that, you know. I hate you for having the ability to let people bait others with their most cherished dreams for entertainment: hoping that it comes true with them. Some things should be no-go areas and this is one of them.

Do you exist? I believe you do. I see hints of you in a lovers' embrace, the lingering glances and touches, beautifully written words in text and the intimate gestures that breathe nothing but familiarity between couples that make me sigh out of pleasure for being privvy to them from the sidelines.

Do you exist for me? I do not know. Would I like to find out? Maybe. I remain uncertain of this because of past experiences. I find myself shying away from flirtations and deeper conversations with the opposite sex because I do not wish to hurt any more. I no longer have the desire for meaningless conversations with people that do not excite me intellectually, humorously and emotionally. Most of all; I have come to loathe being used as a vessel to alleviate people's boredom, faux separation and silent treatments in their relationships.

People are under the impression that I am seeking perfection. They could not be more wrong. I am seeking emotional availability, consistency, honesty and action. Nothing more than that. But, it kind of seems too much to ask especially during this wait for you. I do not even know what to ask for anymore. The endless waiting period has filled me with a lot of doubt regarding your existence for me.

If you do exist for me, If you eventually arrive, may you be everything and more than I could ever dream of. May you show me your glorious beauty and imbue my soul with all the contentment it can take. And most of all; give me the simple pleasure of basking in the splendor of your reflection in a lover's eyes and warmth of his embrace.

Yours,
Shanah

When Loneliness Speaks

I couldn't help looking at you.
Cute face, cuter smile,
It lingered on my brain.

Made me wish we had crossed paths earlier,
Before the band on your finger.

I kept looking in your direction,
Entertaining thoughts I had no reason to,
But couldn'tbe denied.

You had my loneliness speak louder than before.

Could We Start Over?

Could we start over?
Learn each other anew?
Appreciate the quirks we missed about us?

Could we start over?
Let the love we held onto tightly unfurl?
Blossom into the splendour we denied ourselves?

Could we start over?
Heal the hurts between us and build new memories?
Nurture the love that can no longer be hidden?

Could we start over?
Our bodies are starting to betray us
In recognition of the attraction between us

Could we start over?

Photo Credits: psiloveyou.xyz
Ps: This poem was inspired by a Bollywood series (Kum Kum Bagya) I watch now and then. Seven years has passed and the lead characters are suddenly back into each other's space although attached to different people. 

Test Yourself and Your Skills!

A fortnight ago; I received the most unexpected phone call inviting me to an interview for a job I couldn't recall applying for. Aside from an E-Mail inviting me to an interview over a concept note I had come up with for an advocacy video at work, this was the second best thing to happen to me, this year.
I am a firm believer in not turning down interviews unless your mental, emotional and physical state are compromised in a manner that makes it impossible for you to give it your all. I was in that kind of state and knew I would not be able to make it for the interview while the details were being given to me over the phone. I immediately declined and thanked the person for the call.
You would not believe the joy I felt after that phone call. As much as I had to turn down the break of an interview, I could not help but be happy over the fact that the application I sent in on a whim got me that far.
When I sent in the application: a week to the day of my accident, early June according to LinkedIn, I was not looking for a job. I was testing my skills and credentials. During our volunteer workshop for Interns and Volunteers, a former Supervisor once said that always try for a job if you meet 3/5 requirements of the job description. I realized that LinkedIn made this so easy with its system because all a person has to do is press "apply" when a position of interest comes along. However, this piece of advice is not restricted to technology. One can take the traditional channels available to them and apply for any position as long as they meet half the requirements. You do not necessarily have to be looking for a job. Take the time out and periodically test your skills and credentials of your professional field to ascertain that you earned your position and that your current and additional skills are good enough to get you an interview elsewhere.
To make up for the lack of experience in the other half of the job description requirements, take advantage of the internet and its vast resources to learn. Teach yourself some of these things. Invest in yourself and your career especially if you wish to grow. Personally, I never knew anything about creating a newsletter until I was thrust into the role without help. I watched tutorials on how to use MS Publisher, downloaded the manual and practiced until I got the hang of it. If you have free access to the Internet make it beneficial to YOU and your career growth.
Another thing; once in awhile, ask a friend of yours to anonymously call up the people you list as referees on your job applications. When a friend of mine said this, I could not get over the sneaky yet cleverness of it. Sometimes, the people we do use as referees sabotage our career development because no one wants to lose a good employee but what about you when you feel that it is time for you to move on? Getting your friend to find out if your referees sell you or curtail your chances is a good way to be sure that nothing stands between you and your next place of employment.
Like I mentioned earlier; I am a firm believer in not turning down interviews unless your mental, emotional and physical state are compromised. Over the course of my young career, I have had to turn down two interviews on account of my health. The first turn down in 2016 hurt me a lot because I was sick, unemployed and really needed the job. I almost asked for a postponement until I remembered that appealing to the emotions of a Messenger was not the way to go. I sadly apologized and hang up. I contemplated going for it but the memory of me taking my final exams under the grips of poor health with the cold sweats randomly popping out did not seat well with me. I would have done more harm than good. The last thing you want to display to the interview panel is you at your weakest. They might empathize but will not take pity on you for showing up in that state. Always show up when you are at your finest and can think on your feet.
Truthfully; I have experienced a lot of failures in my pursuit of development programs to enhance my skills, knowledge and experience in my current field of operation but this invite to an interview even if it never materialized restored my spirit, faith in myself and capabilities.

Image Credits: googledotcom

Plus One

It has been a year since I composed this  under the influence of a sugar high and poor health. I was so chafed to see it in today's Facebook memories because I have been anxiously anticipating its revival, in a good way.

I still want to be someone's pain in the ass but maybe not exactly at this point in time. A later date or year or months when I am emotionally and mentally in a good place... possibly.

At this point in time:
I'd love nothing better than to be someone's plus one,
I want to be pampered,
I want to be cosseted,
I want to be a sugar-babe :(
I really miss the 3 am texting,
The ordained time for a soul-soul connection,
When insomnia was more of a friend than enemy,
I want to be someone's pain in the ass,
In the name of love!

Shanah

The Distance Between Us

To
My Former Love;

I still think that you're the one that understood me best.
I would have given you a chance a million times over, if you had shown a modicum of the interest I thought we shared. But, you never did. Neither when I asked you nor I forced your hand. You still played your cards close to your chest and I wasn't built for it. I wasn't built for uncertainty yet you thrived, no, savoured it like it was the most delicious morsel of meat you have ever tasted.
My needs and I have always played second fiddle to the needs of the people in my life and seeing myself taken as a by -the-way was something I couldn't settle for. Even though murky water runs beneath the makeshift bridge we built, it doesn't take away the handful of good memories I have left of you.
You can't deny that I tried for you. I tried a lot more than you would ever know but it wasn't enough. The deal was too raw for me to settle given the uncertainty of the terms. It was either your way or not at all.
Taking you from the person I shared every little detail of my life with, to someone I share a handful of memories with wasn't easy. You were my waking thought. The person my thoughts ran to when something happened in my life and my 3 am companion. You were a habit I nurtured with each opportunity that came my way until...
How many times did we try to mend the cracks between us? Once? Twice? Thrice? I can't even remember because there were instances where you were so callous in your treatment; instances I forgave you for because I liked you a lot, until that day.
Do you ever wonder what happened? Do you think about what you did wrong that drove me to that point? Should I tell you: now that we have a few years worth of distance between us?
To you; it was another empty promise you were making me yet it was a little bubble of hope for us on my side. You gave me the teenage experience I never had by making me wait for a call that never came through. Given our history; that wasn't unexpected but the bitter taste the experience left in my mouth was something I didn't relish. That day made the decision for me.
I had made a lot of moves for you, given you a lot more chances than I have ever given anyone in my life, watched from the side-lines as you publicly mocked every little thing that I did for you. It was enough. I couldn't give anymore. I had nothing left. You took it all. Even the fight I should have had on reserve for your successors.
Am I angry? No. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't know what to look for in anyone I might consider sharing my life with. You are the other yardstick on which I measure their worth as men especially when it comes to their treatment towards me.
It took me years to give others chances. Unfortunately or fortunately, the first person I gave a chance to failed miserably. He said all the pretty and flowery words that I longed to hear from you and I was sold. No. You know I do I do not fall that easily. I thought the years and affection between this person and I would provide the firm foundation for this stage in our lives only to be disappointed. Like you, he failed to live up to his words.
Do you remember that girl? The one that fought for you? She couldn't garner the energy to fight for him once he started being indifferent towards her. That girl just unfriended him so he could do it better from a far. Fighting never even crossed my mind yet it was an uncontrollable urge for your case. Mend it! Fix it! Give it one more try! I was always bridging the distance between us that to this day - I do not have the energy it takes to fight for or chase after a guy, however much I presume to like him.
My life is a revolving door of comings and goings. I should be used to it but I am not. Seeing your successor go hurt a lot because I thought we had a good friendship. The years alone should have been enough to intercede and stop this outcome...
I have never regretted you. I still do not regret you. You meant much more than you knew at that point in my life. What I regret are the feelings you evoked in me. They were too intense to handle. Feeling that way taught me that I never want to be that vulnerable towards another human being and I still don't.
Twice this year; I have been asked on two separate occasions if I would consider us being friends? I loved our friendship. You understood me better than anyone I had encountered in my life. I would have considered it if it was at your instigation and not hearsay. They do not know how dark the murky water that runs beneath our makeshift bridge is and that there's a lot more to it than the distance between us.

Yours,
In love and thoughts,
Shanah

Past Re-collections

Me checking out the statue of our former President Sir Milton Obote

I chanced upon a post from a twitter follower about her 2018 mid-year review. Her post reminded me of my promise to keep a gratitude journal to help me focus on the positive and dwell not on the lemons life handed me. I admit; I lost my way after 2015 and it has been a lot of work trying to find myself again. I derived a lot of pleasure in keeping a gratitude journal and sharing it in that I was driven to leaf through my collections for 2017. I spent equal measures of 2017 terrified of death and worried over the state of my health. I lost 3 people within my immediate family and a close friend to both of my best friends. Those surprise deaths shook me to the core and exhibited the fragility of life. To date; the possibility of death still lingers in my thoughts.

"Why not 2018, you ask?" 2018 is HARD at the moment. However; this is not a dreary post so I shan't make it as one. These were some of my thoughts and bits of gratitude for 2017.

January

Alhamdulilah for the opportunity to work and earn a living.

I was involved in a documentary talking about issues affecting Women with Disabilities at national level.

When you get the chance to be good and do good for someone don't let it spill out of your hands.

The Story of You - Poem

February

I received and signed the work contract

Dear Girl - Poem

Artistic inspiration struck after 3 months. Alhamdulilah for my talent

March

You Don't Know Me Enough - Poem

Impressed with my "Expression of Happiness."

Inked my "Expression of Happiness" and the details came to me slowly but surely

"Write - when the words are ready to be written and flow without effort."

April

We Have No Say Over - Poem

May

Online interview

Even In Love - Poem

Thank God for good company and the ability to take oneself out

My obsession with Korean Dramas was resurrected with the discovery of kissasian.com

"Every girl deserves a guy who tells her that her smile blinds his sight." I wish we had met at a different time

Surprise birthday cake from the sister and brother-in-law

Spent the day in the company of a man. May it be a better year. Ameen

BIRTHDAY! Alhamdulilah for another year

July

I had the most wonderful dream that gave me a little hope.

My opinion made it to the news dailies.

July never fails to make me feel like the loneliest soul in the world

August

Work trip to Apac and Lira where I met the most inspiring woman with a disability and paid a trip to the home of Sir Milton Obote

Life may not be as perfect as it should be but it is totally OK at the moment

It is a shame that the people we care for never hold us in the same regard

September

"Vanity is making feeble attempts at not looking too helpless and sick in front of your lover." - Temptation

I had kind of hoped you would be my ocean

I almost told you before it went awry

I guess, I was wrong.

Busy week! Busy Month!

Goodbye September. You were quite a hard month but I managed to muddle through it

October

Your Face On Mine - Poem

Its sad having to watch everyone's ship arrive but your own. Even sadder is the fact that it may never arrive.

I'm more terrified of death as an adult than I ever was as a youth

I miss the innocence of youth

November

I have lost so many people this year that I keep wondering who the next person to go might be

Her Mother - Poem

Yoga fix got my thighs looking smaller!

Happy to have more responsibility at work

December

Moments - Poem

Weddings make me sad

The innocence of youth is believing in your dreams with infinite faith that they shall come to pass. Never knowing that life interrupts the best laid plans and that nothing ever turns out the way we thought it would.

Walks Down Memory Lane

In the recuperation period  of a recent traumatic event I experienced, I find myself adding on a Facebook break because of my need to detach. Not only am I dealing with the reparation of broken bones but also the disappointment and sorrow that comes with matters of the heart.

Ever since 2015; which I diligently documented here when the feelings weren't so raw, I consciously took a break from dating, liking and entertaining thoughts of me on the arm of a significant other until I was both mentally and emotionally strong. The road to single girl business hasn't been all that smooth considering the fact that last year, many of society's voices were in my ear over my lack of a significant other. It has never been easy being a girl more so since our achievements are still measured by the yardstick of the fruits of our womb if not the man by our side. I took all criticism and well meaning "advice" in stride and much as it bogged me down and made me question my noteworthy accomplishments, I shook it off in a matter of months and continued with the derivative pleasure of single girl business until a two-legged human that wears pants and shorts on a permanent basis decided to interrupt.

Clearly; there is no rest for the weary because in a perfect world, someone in my current situation would be dealing with one problem, not two. Life is that funny. After two years of single girl business, being alone but not lonely, I promised myself to try but wasn't actively searching. No. I left all that to God and any man or woman kind enough to hook me up with their friends albeit at my inconvenience.

Then came the declaration I never expected to hear in my lifetime. I resolved to give the declarer a chance because I thought he knew what he wanted (he sounded it because I believed him for those two months) until I spotted emerging traits of behaviour that precipitated my depression and led to my prior decision, the decision to stay single until someone that cares enough for me and actually means it comes along.

Whichever way I look at it; I do not think I am asking for too much from someone I choose to love or vice-versa but it seems to be for the people I give chances to. I have never relished the thought of being an after thought to someone I choose to love and I do not expect them to treat me as such but alas, that is the way they want the cookie to crumble and I refuse to settle.

I was having a repeat performance of 2015 whereby I watched this person be active on social media without as much as "hello" to me in the morning or a "how was your day in the evening", at least every other day because I do not expect someone to be texting me on a daily basis. It hurt a lot back then and it still hurts. That is the behaviour I have been putting up with for close to a month and seeing it killed me every fuckin day. I spent a full weekend in tears over the disappointment in myself and knew that if I do not mitigate before I spiralled, I would lose myself along the way yet I had put a lot of work on my emotional and mental health to let myself drown into an abyss once again.  This informed my decision to deactivate my account, take time off to neutralize feelings, fully detach and leave him to concentrate on the people he cares for enough to mean it.
How am I supposed to heal broken bones with a broken spirit? I need to look out for me since I am only good enough for myself and no one else. Until I come first for the person that chooses to love me and actually shows; I am not settling, even if it means becoming the spinster aunt I find myself resigned to.

I hope to fruitfully use the time off Facebook and Twitter to build my spirit and engage in activities I let slip like reading and writing. I missed this space and the flow of words.

He Called Her At Midnight

There it was. The invite. A chance to step into his world again. She had kept it at the back of her mind that they would cross paths, but, never thought of the manner in which it would happen. Not this way, anyway.

Alexandra took stock of her surroundings with a cursory glance at the design she was currently working on. She had done good by herself. It had been hard, but, in the five years of their separation; she had chased the career she'd desired and went on to become the most sought after graphic design artists in New York. Everything around her gave her a sense of pride and fulfilment she'd never expected to have without him by her side. It meant that much more that she had succeeded on her own.

"Alexandra?" are you still there?"

Max's voice brought her back from her little reverie. He needed an answer and she needed to see him again, if only to see how he was holding up.

"Yes. I can come over, just not tonight. I'm under a tight deadline and I can't interrupt the creative process at this moment. Can you give me two days from now?", she asked?

"It'd mean a lot to me if you could make it tonight, please. Think about it."

With that entreaty, Max hang up.

Alexandra listened to the incessant beep of the dial tone for awhile longer before she finally took the phone from her ear and looked at it in disbelief. It was so like Max to ask for something monumental and act like it wasn't a big deal. If he could be so nonchalant about it, so could she.

After hanging up, she made her way to the mantle holding all the accolades she had received in the five years. Fine things. Appreciation for jobs well done and trophies from the Women's entrepreneurial groups on which she was a Board member. Encompassing all the trophies was the wall on which hang a few pictorial prints of her work. She unerringly reached for the largest print on the wall and took it back with her to the work table.

"Beautyin Ugly". The one design that held more of a personal meaning to her than the rest of her designs. Its title and frame held secrets only she was aware of and never shared with anyone. Beauty in Ugly was a result of an onslaught of despondency and despair, on a night she never thought she'd be able to get through without him. The fateful day she broke up with Max, she had acted so cool and stoic in his presence yet her heart was breaking into pieces. Her staidness only got her far enough from his presence before the shattered pieces of her heart pricked through the facade.

Love OR Life?

No filter or filter?

Four months down the road; and I am just getting the opportunity to share with you my 'happy new year' design. although, it was completed in March.

March. Quite the despondent month for me. A lingering feeling leftover from February. Between the end of February and beginning of March, I had the strongest urge to write, to the extent that I carried my journal wit me to work for a fortnight.
Two weeks of just opening and leafing through the pages without an entry. Two weeks of going through past entries in search of inspiration. Two weeks of staring at the numbers: 2018, that I had written a few weeks into January, to mark the year and subsequent entries that would follow. Two weeks of nothingness but the numbers 2018... 2018... 2018...
I, then stopped carrying my journal with me to work.

He Called Her At Midnight. Earlier in the weeks of March, I went through the last entry to the short story I was trying my hand at... He Called Her At Midnight, to gather more ideas on where I should take the story. As the ideas emerged and were quickly noted, I felt the need to transfer the noted to he pages of my Journal because that was where the story originated from.

2018. As I was going through my Journal, I hesitated on the page with 2018 on it. I looked at the dullness of the numbers and decided to give them a bit of shading for, I had left them as an outline at the beginning. In the process of shading; I mulled over my mental resolutions and wondered if any would come to pass.
'Would this look pretty if I added an I? How about this 2? Does it look like an L? Do I want it to be Love for Life or Love or Life? Which one is better? Life or Love first? Should I add an R to the 0 or make it For? It seems lengthy. Better an R at the end to make or.
Something is missing. Can the word happy fit at the top of the page? How will I draw it in? Won't I spoil the design? Let me put it next to the 2 and make sure it forms the H without losing the number.'
As questions plagued the mind; the fingers flew over the page, in an attempt to answer them while bringing the ideas to life.
In that moment; my first design for 2018 was borne and the installment to my story quietly forgotten. I blue inked the additions before settling on color. Seeing that it was my first design of the year, I went on a coloring spree and don't regret the decision for it the color added a bit of cheer to it. So much so that it leaves a smile on my face whenever I look at it.

It might be a little late to wish y'all a happy new year but it's not too late to ask God to make it better, if not the best, for all of you. :) I have shared the completed design with a few touch-ups for pomp. You can follow up on my creative work and process on Instagram at ShanahOduty  and Facebook as ShanahOffDuty.