I’m sitting here at the balcony of my hall, texting my very close friend who schools abroad, and we are discussing books and authors, Chimamanda Adichie’s books to be precise. Then our conversation drifts from the books to the author’s personal life. Chimamanda is allegedly suffering from depression, according to an article she wrote. I told her, after reading the article, that I didn’t think she could possibly have depression. Because as an African, I always thought of depression as the white man’s excuse for doing crazy things.
Now the thing is this, Chimamanda is a prominent African writer that I respect very much. Could she possibly be suffering from depression? The symptoms she gave are like a part of my life. Could I also be depressed?
Most people think I’m weird. I always feel that most people do not understand me, not even my parents. I’m not a conformist. I do not like to be amongst people. I love solitude where I can be anything I want to be in my mind. I love rock because I believe rock music gives you a certain kind of freedom you can only get in your imaginations. That is the only place this crazy world cannot affect: your imaginations. I love books because of the same reason. I’m not a very friendly person because I have trust issues (or am I just paranoid?)
I take life seriously because I am afraid of making any mistakes. I am prone to mood swings. I have very wild imaginations that overwhelm me sometimes. I get fed up easily, especially when I am faced with a challenge I know I have no control over. More often than not I have considered ending my life, but I have never had the courage to go through with it. I believe in true love, the type in the romance novels, I know deep down inside me it exists. I believe that the most important and beautiful things in life are abstract like life itself; inner peace, love, imaginations, inspirations, music, creativity. They cannot be measured, they can only be felt.
I believe helping others in little ways can make the world a better place. I believe real love for one another will make the world go round. I’m pained by the religious war going on all over the world because I have imagined the way the world would be in the future if we don’t learn to love one another and be there for one another. I fear for my future in Nigeria because it has not proven to me that it has a plan for me. I have issues with following a certain trend if it does not state the right thing.
I believe art is a beautiful thing. It’s a place you can lose yourself and find yourself too. It exposes the little things about life we do not have the time to notice.
I love God because he is the source of existence and without Him we are nothing. But I do not subscribe to what some preachers say, and their interpretation of the bible. I don’t think that makes me a sinner.
I don’t talk much, especially with strangers, because I have self-esteem issues and sometimes when I talk people get offended
Most don’t even listen at all. I’m not a fashionista because I don’t like to be noticed. Besides, I’m just not good with combining colors or outfits, and again life is much more peaceful and simple when you take out the stress of been up to date with fashion and the likes.
The things that matter to me most in life, my perspective of life, is much different from what most people’s. I love money (everybody does) but it’s not a do or die affair. I’m a very opinionated person. I don’t like people telling me to live my life this way for it to turn out a that way. What works for you just might not work for me. Don’t get me wrong. I take advice, just not directives.
These are the things that carry me through every day of my life. But why do people get the impression that I’m a snub or I’m proud? Why do people think I’m weird? Why do people see me and judge me immediately as something I’m not? Why can’t people take the time out to just know me before passing a comment on me? Why can’t people study your behavior before forming an opinion about you? Is it a crime not to be a jovial person…..scratch that. I’m jovial with people I want to be friends with. My best friends know I’m crazy. ,Why can’t people just accept you for who you are, what you are and what you want to be? Some people just think I’m weird. The truth really is I’m not a conformist.
The question now is, am I depressed, weird or is this just who I am?
Adedayo is a 400level student of the faculty of law,she loves music, reading novels,meditating and enjoys solitude,she writes to keep herself sane and express herself when no one listens,she can be reached on firstname.lastname@example.org