I had a deep convo a few days ago and she analysed me to a tee
Edgar, you are old but have the heart of a child. U are kind, deep, open-minded and don’t keep a grudge
You do not save and u do not invest. You spend as it comes and u are emotional. You cry, you are not afraid to show your emotions and you hurt very easily
You are a contradiction she continues. You are bold and loud but very quiet and boring
Only a few will ever see that side but why you want the whole world to keep seeing that part of you which is not the real you beats me
You are closer to Islam than Christianity with the way you support widows, the way you look at things and your outlook towards life
No one has ever spoken to me like this and no one has ever deciphered me like this
She tore into me and confronted my deepest fears and ended up saying – I cannot be your therapist
It was an innocent conversation that first started from Politics and quickly went into this psycho analysis that I have just mentioned
It was more, but these are the first ones that slammed into me
Life is funny. It’s empty and short. I have a strong sense of my morbidity and this drives my sense of urgency
After the triple slam of losing my parents and mena within a short period, my outlook towards life changed permanently
It’s a day-by-day thing for me now. Mena was ill for only two weeks and then went. My mum slumped after eating and laughing and went, My Dad took his time but passed away after 5 years of a courageous fight for life
I am wracked by anxiety and fears. Demons that take possession of me in the early mornings leading me to rush to my phone for the early morning chats that give me peace
When the chats come late, or don’t come at all, I am left to the nauseating paralysis of fear
With a wild imagination, my head conjures everything
Death, accidents, failure, ill health all sorts of negativity and then the light thud of the chat comes – good morning and the demons flee only to go and hang on the ceiling like evil bats waiting to descend the next morning
I will be 56 years old in a few months but I’ve refused to grow beyond 6 years old emotionally
I still run to my mother’s room to nestle in her bosom fleeing from the nightmares that wracked my growing years
In my old age, I have found my mother – not in her physical form but in a transient body
She speaks to me, gets angry with me, admonishes me, blocks me through a transient form that belongs to another
She cuddles me and says everything will be ok and promises me N1 m to drive away the morbid thoughts of self-immolation and never gives me the N1 m but instead smiles and prays the longest ever prayer I can imagine ever hearing
Let no fool tell me to ‘go to the Lord’ cos that is escapist. I am with the Lord and he is with me but like his son King David I am with my demons
I love the contradiction of my life though – the week infallible coward, running from ghosts at night and then the bold. Confident and devil-may-care Alpha male who will take on anybody or any issue with the ferocity of a lion in heat
It amazes me when my adversaries can’t see or feel my fear and when I bark, I see them pull back and I laugh if only they knew
Life is sweet for me but a kind of bitter sweet that adds colour and mischief
Yes you wont be my therapist but you will continue to listen to my amazing story as i move around looking for trouble and begging to be beaten
Yes
Duke of Shomolu
