Hey, how are you feeling tonight? 

Are you fine? Is your skincare routine yielding? How's the diet going? Do you still run, until you feel like your heart is skittering away from you? How are your selfies coming out these days? 

Are you done reading that book? Will you finish that story? Have you gotten that mail, or has your heart gotten numb to the pang of rejection letters?

Have you applied for that scholarship? Have you sent that CV? How's the deadline going? Do you still love your job, or have you learnt to assimilate to the things you can't change? 

Have you forgiven yourself, for the things you didn't do differently, or do you still live and die being crushed under the weight of regrets? Are the scars healing? Are you in therapy, or at least talking to someone?

Have you told him that he needs to be more accessible? Do you now demand for the love you deserve? Have you stopped stalking people who broke your heart? Have you healed? Will you get yourself up and go for that date? 

Do you still take your medications? Do you still pray? Are you drinking less? Are you coping better with the pressure, and dealing appropriately with your substance abuse?

Above all, do you still hope?

• • • • • •

A friend of mine once said to me “I wonder why people even get depressed”. I remember when I blurted out the same insensitive words, oblivious of the fact that I would one day experience it first hand.

A study by the World Bank reveals that 22 percent of Nigerians (mostly family heads) suffer chronic depression. In my opinion, it is way higher than that because I have met some very depressed young people who – I’m guessing – weren’t really accounted for.

People ask: “why would young people be depressed when they’ve got their whole lives ahead of them?” Well, I’ll tell you my story. And I hope it makes a believer out of you.

I’ve realized that real-life experiences help other people heal because it tells them they’re not alone.

My journey with depression began a few years back after graduating from the university and realizing that I still had an outstanding course to pass. That meant I had to pay all my fees like in the past year. Typical of many Nigerian families, everyone washed their hands of it. According to them, I had no business failing a course. So it became my cross to bear. Did I mention that my major wasn’t entirely my idea?? Years after writing the exam, I have struggled to get cleared from school to no avail, this means I’ve had to search for a job without a degree certification. Call it bad luck or whatever, I say I have a folder of sad thoughts lodged somewhere in my head.

I remember trying to work for a relative and not meeting their requirements. I recall them saying, “No one will ever hire you. I recruit people for a living so I know no one will hire you”. I also remember walking home that day and forming the words to this song “If I wrote a song for all the times I’ve lost it, then my albums would say ‘fight… I’m dancing in a black light but I’m not gon’ hit a wall”. My mind was my safe spot; there, I turned the bad thoughts into inspiring songs. It was my therapy.

Continue on next post! 

#Depression