Living alone diaries #2; i’m losing myself (?)

Today I woke up feeling extremely unmotivated.

Now, I’m usually a wake up, journal and do yoga kind of person, but today, immediately I opened my eyes, I knew I just wanted to lay in bed all day; I didn’t have the zeal to do anything really. I don’t know why.

So that's what I did, I just stayed in bed for the whole morning, watching the Kardashians (say what you want but they make a good show). The turning point was when I was texting my best friend and I randomly started spilling about my skepticism and anxiety over if I was going to be successful and become the person I wanted or not.

Since I was little, I’ve always, always wanted to be a creative, I’ve been singing since I was single digits, used to be called to sing in secondary school during events, I started writing my first “book” — of course it was about vampires- when I was nine years old, I was always obsessed with art and calligraphy, and at the back of all my notebooks there was always some drawing of something; dresses, eyes, feet, flowers, anything.

But I’ve never really had a support system to help nurture all my talent; I was majorly bullied in secondary school for being a public singer, everyone called me homophobic slurs and made fun of me for doing something they considered feminine, and in turn, I became so self-conscious that I stopped singing in front of people and even just walking in view of a crowd, I’d almost have a full-on panic attack.

When it came to my love for art and my talent for drawing, growing up in a hyper-religious home kind of broke that before it even started; my parents told me that Islam did not condone the drawing of the likeness of animate figures, apparently, its me trying to “be like God”, by creating too. Even when I got into the foundation program in the university of Lagos for visual arts, (because my subject combination in WAEC was so constricting it was basically the only course I could study, my father had actually wanted me to study geography) I knew my parents weren’t too thrilled about that. I never felt encouraged to create. When I now actually didn’t even get in (I failed a subject during the final exams and so my points were too low for me to be admitted) and I had to leave my best friends and go to a private uni to study mass communication, it kind of just felt like the world was telling me that I needed to give up my dreams and face the “real world”.

Now, it feels like the only thing I have is my writing, and even that sometimes I think; how am I going to be successful at this? can I really make a living of this? It feels like I’ve lost so much of myself — my music, my art, my designing — that this now — my words - are all I have left.

Sometimes its like damn, who is Ahmad? Like who am I, really?

I don’t even know most times.

I’m so scared that I won’t be happy with the person I will be in twenty years, or even five years, because I want to do what I love because I know I’m talented, but will that be enough to keep me above the water?

This is doubly scary because I don’t really have support from my family; my father is a space scientist who doesn’t even believe in art, my mom is a nurse whose favorite pastime is reading the Quran and sending WhatsApp broadcasts about scholarships abroad and the benefits of ginger, my siblings feel so far away from me because we were never that family that was close or really had a bond. We are family, but were all pretty separate in terms of who we are and the people we want to become. Doesn’t help that they’re all staunch Muslims who have a very shortsighted view of the world. So, I’m very alone.

I think that’s why its so hard for me to open up to people and that why I feel like no one really knows me, because if even my own family doesn’t really care about who I am as a person, why should anyone else.

This is why at every stage of your life, no matter who you are or how independent you think you are, it’s so, so, so important to have a support system, because on the bad days, they’re really all you have.

Damn, I’m really spiraling.

Anyways, it’s been like four hours now, I couldn’t continue writing because I was so distraught, so I called my friend, had a little crying spell, took a nap, and now I feel better; this is what I was saying about having a support system that you can rely on when the going gets tough.

Today has been such a draining day, I can’t lie, but I’m glad I’m feeling better.

Reading back everything I’ve written and its so crazy how this series has gotten so personal so fast. What’s even crazier is that I never talk about my feelings to most of the people that even know me in real life, but I’m here on the internet spilling my guts and crying and throwing up.

Crazy stuff.

I think I’m going to stop here for now and continue some other time before I publish again next week Monday. Since this is supposed to be a weeklong journal, I don’t want to limit the things that will be in one entry to just a single day.

Plus, I enrolled for this copywriting course and I think I want to take a lesson tonight.

#studiousbaddie

Hi (again) baes.

It’s been an extremely rainy week in Jos, hm. I mean, I don’t really mind, but its cold as shit all the time and my shoes are always getting muddy, Alhamdullilah for Crocs.

Apart from my mini spiral earlier, this week has been pretty okay.

I think I put a lot of pressure on myself to be successful or to have my life go in a very specific direction, I have all these expectations of myself because of social media and peer pressure and family. I find that a lot of people tout this narrative of “not giving a shit” and that’s just honestly not possible. There is no way your life seems filled with peoples’ ambitions and success and triumphs and failures and you “don’t give a shit”.

Impossible.

I know everyone’s journey is different and focusing on your own path is what will lead you to your happiness (important to note here that the success I’m referring to is not necessarily money; success is a feeling, not a figure), but don’t let anyone ever fool you into thinking they don’t care about other people’s perceptions or successes or opinions.

Personally, I believe people that say that are fockin liars and dirty bitches.

Anyways, this week I’m going to invest time into rediscovering who I am; going to try my hand at my art again, even though its just sketches, going to read more (surprisingly, been slacking on that too), going to sing more. I know that these parts of me were kind of buried alive, but even the longest journey starts with one step, right?

In our struggle to grow and become better it’s so important for us to not leave behind the parts of ourselves that make us who we are. Growing up does not mean you should stop doing what you love or give up your hobbies, yeah time may be tight, but isn’t it better to hold on to who you are? I mean we’re all going to die at some point, why not make your life as enjoyable as possible before then?

Whatever it is; playing football, painting, sculpture, singing, solving quadratic equations for fun, cooking, dancing, no matter how old you are, if you’re a parent, a civil servant, a CEO, you have to take care of your inner child. At the end of the day, we weren’t born as adults, we were all children at some point and that child is still within us in some capacity.

Personally, being happy and content is my own success, and I know my success is in doing the things that bring me joy and serenity.

Don’t neglect who you are.

So yeah, that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

Also, listen to ctrl (deluxe) by SZA so my mommy can feed me.

(Below this entry is a clap icon and a comment section, and you can “clap” on a single post for as many as fifty times, this shows me how you felt about what you just read and also helps other people see my entries. Clap for me? you're doing the lords work. After all, crying and throwing up on the internet is quickly becoming my brand)