It’s one month to my birthday today. I have hated birthdays since I was 18.
I remember my 18th birthday clearly. It was blurry that day. There were drugs everywhere. I was sick and the drugs I had were terribly heavy drugs that made me into a mess. For the years that followed, something would go wrong on my birthday. And while the rest of the world would be celebrating, I would crave to be left alone in my thoughts and in my space. I am not sure anybody loves to be alone as much I did /do.
Another significant birthday I remember was the birthday of the year I began treatment. I had never felt so alone in my entire life. Although it had been my decision to have treatment done outside of Lagos, this loneliness was different. It was a dark, dark period in my life. I was going through something I couldn’t understand, I had lost a best friend who had promised to be there the whole period but bailed out on me. My birthday was Election Day-thanks INEC for the memories. I cried a lot that day. A friend of mine came to stay with me in my hotel room out of fear that I’d hurt myself. Well, I didn’t hurt myself. Lol. Continue reading