Why 2020 Was My Best Year: From Breakdown to Breakthrough
I suffered from mental health issues for most of 2020 and it was the best year I've ever had.
For several months I cried every day both at night and during the day. I took breaks from work to pee and cry and then return to my desk.
I lost someone and it was debilitating.
I love dancing but one day my body felt like lead. I couldn't get up. When I told my dance teacher I couldn't dance anymore I was sitting on a stump as she stood facing me. As the words ”I can't dance” left my mouth, I wept. When she bent over to comfort me, showing me tenderness I hadn't had for months I cried even harder.
I love the beach and open spaces but when I went to a beautiful cabin with views as far as the eye can see I couldn't sleep.
I love my hair. I had grown it from the day my son was born. It was dark and curly and beautiful but I couldn't bring myself to touch it. It felt heavy on my head so I shaved it off.
One day I was in a keke coming from town. I had just interviewed a mother of five who said she had gone to sell in the market because if she stayed home her children would keep asking her for food she couldn't afford to give them. So she came to the market even though ”sell no de”.
Inside the keke as we crossed Congo Cross Bridge, I thought God I wish this keke would just have an accident. I was mentally ill.
Everything was too much. I was alone and I was drowning.
By chance, a friend in Nairobi asked how I was doing. I told her truthfully that I was in a state of mental anguish. There was something about her being far away that made it easy to be fully honest about how I was doing in ways I could not be at home. Our friendship was built on tenderness, and we saw each other without judgment. I wasnt ”Vickie Remoe” to her, I was a woman, her friend.
When I told her she thanked me for pouring into her. She said she was honored to be a safe space for me. Then she connected me with a therapist.
It took me three weeks to finally find the courage to contact the therapist who was in Dakar at the time, but I did.
”My friend says you can help me, please help” was the message I typed.
I wasn't sure what to expect. Even though I signed up for therapy, I was hopeless about recovery. I was scared I would not get out of the depression I was in.
These past years I had just found ways to cope with anxiety and panic attacks that had plagued me since my two brothers died when I was 7. I didn't want to lose the progress that had taken two decades to achieve.
Although I didn't sleep many nights I showed up to document stories, to take photos, and to go to healthcare facilities. During the day I was busy though not numb but at night I wept. I also talked to myself a lot.
I didn't stop working because I felt I needed to be brave for all the people around me. Even though I knew I was in a bad way the people who know me, they know me to be strong. So I did the best I could for them and then at night I drowned in solitude.
For many years I had built a fortress around my heart. I had done so to protect myself from feeling too much emotions and tenderness. I was a stoic badass. I can't speak for others because I don't know but Krio women are trained and conditioned to be iron strong--emotionally together, a veneer of strength. Wi sabi geda!
This year my veneer cracked and everything came crashing in at the same time. I was touched by love, suffering, and grief.
Both in my personal life and my work everywhere I turned there was loss.
I remember doing Facebook live videos and just weeping uncontrollably for myself, and for the people whose stories I documented. I worried people would perceive me as weak and lose respect for me but it was beyond my control.
I had no business listening to stories of hunger and suffering when I too was dealing with grief.
On my lowest day I drove to the beach to cry in my car freely. It was the day I learned a dear uncle had died--the beach urchins would not let me be. One after the other they would interrupt my weeping to beg for money. You cant imagine how crazy it feels to have tears streaming down your face trying to explain for the fifth or sixth time that no you don't have money that no not today.
”Bo una lef posin u no si ah de cri”
”Na moni wi want”
I just gave up and returned to my room to cry in peace.
It took many months of therapy for me to understand that I am strong but only as much as any human being; strong sometimes but also soft and fragile. The veneer is just that, it is not real.
It has been the worst year ever but it has also been a time of spiritual awakening and self-awareness for me. It has been the best year because I discovered my humanity.
As hard and painful as this year was, it has expanded me ”like gold into airy thinness beat”. I am gold...malleable, I took a beating but I didn't break, I expanded.
As we close out the year my heart is filled with gratitude for every single hit I took because without it there would be no expansion, no growth, and no grace.
I no longer have my armor. I am grateful to have discovered my softness and to revere it.
For the first time since I can remember I'm not chasing after anything. There is nothing that I want. I accept what is. I am not waiting for anything; not a contract, an opportunity, or acknowledgment.
I believe that the universe will conspire to bring to me that which is for me, and keep me from what isn't. And that is all that matters.
I feel all my emotions and I allow them to flow through me when they come. I don't fight to hold back on what I feel as I once did. I sit with my softness. Na me so day cry na ya because I am moved in my soul. Okay tears come through, lets flow and let this energy pass through. And it does and life goes on.
I haven't been in therapy for sometime now but I keep in touch with my therapist and I still have one unused session just in case I need it. It's like mental health savings account for the bambai.
Thank you for connecting and reading my blog this year. Sending you and yours the best of wishes through out the holidays.
Happy Festivus, A Festivus For The Rest of Us (😁).
