“Smile and no one will see how broken you are inside.”
I was going through a twitter thread the other day and came across this photo of a happy looking, big smiling Chester Bennington with his family. Chester was Linkin park’s lead singer that decided to end his life a couple of years back. His wife had taken the photo the night before he decided to commit. Everyone was shocked because in the photo he looked genuinely happy.
There is a difference between depression and chronic depression. None of which any of us understand, not even the doctors who diagnose and give treatment. Sure the medication helps but at what cost? What are the side effects? I’ve known someone that took their own life while still under medication. Depression is not something that adheres to any laws of logic. The way it washes over someone…..Creeping stealthily and before you know it, it’s all over you like white on rice. A sea of darkness that drowns your soul and leaves you alone in the midst of plenty. A sea of darkness that you cannot shake off no matter how hard you try.
And yet, no one else can help you get out of that sea other than yourself. You either swim; or drown.
I came across this photo of mine the other day that brought back so many memories. Some good, some not so good.
A quick glance at the photo shows a happy, carefree girl with a huge smile on her face and eyes that tell a story. And a story the eyes would tell, but not one of a happy nature.
I’ve never in my entire life felt more alone and terrified than I did around the period I took this photo. I was seven months pregnant ( I know it doesn’t show, I had a really small bump, upto I think the 9th month.) No one understood what I was going through. I put on a brave face and tried to take the world head on – and almost failed Miserably.
Three months prior to this I had taken all my life savings and invested in a TV series, a product of whose market I had been guaranteed of. I burnt the proverbial midnight oil and poured my every being into writing this excellent almost perfect script.
I took a bus to the coast, paid for the film’s locations, hired a few cars for the shoot, paid for top quality shooting equipment, budgeted for food and logistics and signed contracts with the cast and crew. I knew in a couple of months I was going to be rolling in deep cash.
That was the beginning of all my woes. Once the program was ready to be aired, the local TV station that I had entered into an agreement with before I even begun the shoot changed the terms of the agreement. I said cool, no problem. After all it was my first project and as long as I could pay the people I was working with and be left with a little change, what did I have to lose? And the “exposure” would be good, right? Right.
But the financial stress isn’t the only issue I was undergoing here. I was pregnant with my first child and literally alone. I would cry myself to sleep every night while praying to God for an easier way out – if you know what I mean. Looking back, the depression hit me long and hard, that I always wonder how I got myself out of it. I had nobody to talk to as I felt I had burdened my family with my issues. So I kept mum and said nothing, while burning inside and dying a little as each day went by.
One morning I felt a terrible pain in the space between my heart and rolled on the floor crying like a baby. It was the most intense pain I had ever experienced up to that point in my life. I couldn’t even visit the hospital as walking was out of the question (it was that bad), so I called my uncle who is a doctor and explained to him what was going on.
Thus begun my long torturous journey with ulcers.
A few weeks before delivering my child I signed my first major contract. I shed tears of joy that night. Finally, I could move out of the space I shared with my friend. I dreamt of having my own place; having a screaming baby in the middle of the night with someone else feeling disgruntled in the house isn’t how I envisioned spending my first month post delivery.
I have to point out however that the promise of substantial sums of money wasn’t the only reason I wanted to move out. I was staying in Ruaka then, and Ruaka is not a place for the faint hearted. One night, A few days before taking the above photo I woke up feeling very uneasy. I made way to the kitchen where I poured myself a glass of water. I remember standing there for a long time, thinking of nothing in particular. My thoughts were all over the place but one thing I’ve never forgotten is thinking, “what if there is someone somewhere watching me?”
I went back to bed and had fallen asleep before long. Somewhere along the line I heard people talking and wondered if that was my friend that had come back with other people. They however sounded like they were in a far, far away place. Almost as if I was dreaming
I woke up the next morning to a house empty of electronics. A 55″ Sony TV, Music system, 2 laptops – HP and an Acer. All gone.. ohh, and a broken balcony door. I don’t know what the intruders had used to put me into such deep sleep but I hear it is a common occurrence in Ruaka. I still shudder to date just imagining what would have happened if I had woken up and come face to face with them…My God. What if they had killed me? Or, worse, what if they had raped pregnant me? Aiii wena. There is no way I would have continued living in that house.
Back to the contract. After scrapping a few coins here and there and moving to a one bedroom house that cost 25k a month (by the way why is housing in Ruaka so expensive, considering the high rate of insecurity in the area?) Paying 25k for a one bedroom house whose road is dusty and not even a murram, no streetlights, no space enough for a dining table, super small bedroom and an even smaller sitting room is a joke that is extremely unfunny. Let me tell you something, I could not live in Ruaka if you paid me a Million dollars. (Just kidding hehe. For a million dollars, I could live in North Korea if you wanted me to.)
Anyway, after moving out and all, the contract was cancelled last minute. Here I was with a newborn, in a new space alone, broke and broken. I remember when my mum visited and we would cry together at night. I was in a constantly confused state sometimes I truly marvel at how I overcame that trying period.
“I may smile and I may laugh. But deep down, my heart is a pain you’ll never guess.”
Slowly by slowly I started rebuilding. I started from scratch. I had nothing to my name other than an empty rented space. The nights felt long, cold and lonely. I would hug my newborn baby to the point of suffocation. She gave me so much strength, ensuring I never gave up. God gave me a happy child. She rarely cried, she slept for long hours and she was always laughing. Whatever did I do to deserve her?
I thank God I had a good support system but behind the smiles and laughter I was undergoing so much.
Recently while having a talk with a cousin of mine she pointed out how much she admired my resilience.
“Really?” I asked bemusedly, because what was there to admire?
“You have always gone after what you want,” she said, surprised that I could doubt her statement.
“Like what?” I asked her. I honestly wanted to know. If there is one thing I have always struggled with is that feeling of having underachieved. Sometimes the feeling is so strong it overwhelms me. All those dreams, all that ambition….
I waited.
“Do you know how much you inspire me?”
I said nothing.
“How old were you when you published your first book?” She pressed on.
“19? 20? I’m not sure.”
‘”A political satire. That you self published at 19. And sold out all the 500 copies that you published, all by yourself. You single handedly wrote and produced a TV Series, even if it never got to see the light of day, in your twenties.”
She wanted me to say something, but I had nothing to say. So she went on and mentioned like 5 other things that I beat the odds to achieve, things that I’d rather not talk about in this platform.
That night I really thought about everything she’d told me and realise sometimes we sell ourselves short. As human beings we dwell so much on the negatives that we forget to celebrate our small wins. I forget most of the times to celebrate myself and all that I have accomplished, no matter how insignificant
A win is a win, regardless of how minute it might seem. I have been through the worst of times. And every single time I have risen through the ashes. I’ve loved and I’ve lost….but isn’t it, as they say, better to have experienced love and lost than to never have experienced it at all?
How, after all, will you appreciate the happy times if you’ve never experienced the sad ones? Photos speak a thousand words they say, but sometimes photos lie. The smiles hide alot but the eyes could never. The eyes mirror the soul and like the photo I shared above you can tell the pain, the uncertainty, the rage in those eyes. Do you know the irony of it all? In all of my photos, that one is the one with the most likes and the most engagement on my wall. Everyone commented about how happy I looked. Such a happy soul….and yet, I was at my saddest there, undergoing a baptism of fire. One day, I’ll tell my story, details and all.
No matter what you are undergoing at the moment, no matter how alone you feel always remember that no situation is permanent and that better times lie ahead. Always. At the end of the day, the only thing constant in this life is change.
