I Think I’m Too Much.
This essay has no moral lesson.
I'm also experimenting a new writing style.
It's currently 12:01am, I can't sleep even though I've had a long day and the past two days have been hectic for me, both work wise and emotionally.
I've just walked into the bathroom, and I'm currently sitting on the toilet seat for no reason. Maybe there's a reason, maybe it's because Flo said my period is 4 days away and I should expect mood swings and food cravings. I'm currently not craving anything that's not a cold bottle of Sosa's cranberry drink – but it's past 12, which means no store is open on my street.
I have digressed. I came to talk to you about the fact that I'm too much, or at least I think I am. When I was little, around age 7 or 8, I had a speaking problem. I always said what I saw or heard. Around the same time, I overheard a neighbour talking bad about my mother, and I went back to my mother and told her verbatim what I'd overhead. She gave me the beating of my life, and that was the last time I ever said what I saw or heard.
I became quieter, alone, started creating fake scenarios in my head and writing them down. I had what I’d call a Sunday Sunday friend, because we only met during church services. And school was a blur, I couldn’t misbehave at school as my mother was my class teacher. I was an excellent child, but then people started complaining of how quiet I was.
“Don’t you talk?” “Are you bebebe?”
To top it off, I didn’t (still don’t) smile unless there was a reason to. It didn’t start today (for the people that know me), and for years people have been telling to smile more.
Being an adult is different, being in this time is different.
“You should have friends, you don't want to do life alone.”
“You're too quiet to be my friend.”
“You're too loud to be my friend.”
“Are you copying that your friend?”
“Omg, you are her errand girl and she's using you.”
“Why are you friends with that person?”
“Stop squeezing your face.”
“Allow your self to be loved.”
“Everybody is going to leave you.”
“You are too quiet, too loud. Too trusting, too considerate.”
I have not spoken what I heard or saw in years, this is the first time and I'm retelling it to you, dear reader.
There's a long list of things I can't remember that was said, because my brain has chosen to forget, so forgive me for not giving you all the details.
People’s opinion of me have never counted before now, but there’s been a crack on my wall of emotions. Probably because I have been storing away the mean and hurtful words for a long time. There’s a saying that when you keep storing something in a jar, it fills and spills.
I'm currently walking out of the bathroom, I hit my left foot on the pavement. I'll drink some water and pretend it's Sosa's cranberry drink.
Till next time,
sekhani.
