Wednesday 27 February 2013

THE STORY IN HER EYES



There’s this girl in the mirror, I wonder who she is…sometimes I think I know her and sometimes I wish I did. There is a story in her eyes, lullabies and goodbye. When she’s looking back at me I can tell… she’s hurting inside.
But what might be the problem? She seems to be a pale shadow of herself – she is not her old bubbly self, getting through the day is a struggle… can she be suffering from depression or is it that she is sad? This is her story:
I have been through feelings of hopelessness and helplessness, I have been through a period when I lost interest in my daily activities, lost the ability to feel joy and pleasure, I have become skinny - having lost weight more than 5% of my normal weight. I have been through a period where I was angry with everything and everyone. I walked like a tortoise and when I did my house-hold chores I became very exhausted…like I had been in the shamba digging the whole day. A series of events have changed my life completely…and this is my story:
Working with a multinational organization I was successful, I never knew that one day my life would completely change. A mother of four, married to a humble man, one day I woke up as usual prepared the children for school and drove to work as usual… little did I know that into each life some days must be dark and dreary and for me this was to be one such day.
On entering the office, I immediately saw a letter on my desk addressed to me: I pulled my chair, sat down and opened the letter. The next thing I remember is that when I opened my eyes I was in a hospital. When I asked what I was doing in a hospital, I was told that I had come into the hospital unconscious…brought by office colleagues. That’s when I remembered about the letter and wept. My husband tried calming me but I was so worked up that I sent him out of the room. I could not accept the reality of things.
The entire time I was murmuring to myself, “what will my friends say, how will they react, what will they think of me…” I recalled the fancy restaurants I used to go to, the stylish hair do, the funky clothes all these kept ringing in my mind...
My life was to change completely since there was now no money to sustain the standard of living I was used to and we had to move to a middle class residential area, the children had to transfer to a cheaper school, I had to sell my car in order to pay up the outstanding loan in the bank and had to change friends too since I no longer had the luxuries to maintain the ones I had ‘from my class’.
It was indeed a dark moment that I tried to wish away but in vain, I had no choice but to conform to the new life. This to me seemed to be too much and no matter how much my husband, friends and relatives tried to comfort me, it seemed to me as though the whole world was against me - no one understood me and no one cared to listen to my feelings and what I was going through...
I only thought of myself and my duties as a wife and mother were not important to me anymore, to me life was not worth living... Thinking of how I would fit into my husband’s income was like inflicting pain on me….
It was late in the evening and the sun had set. With my children, I alighted from a bus and was crossing the road when suddenly I heard a voice cry out “Oh No!”. That was the last thing I heard before I found my self in a hospital bed covered with bandages… I could not feel nor move my legs, so I shouted out with fury and pain. The door slammed open and in came a man dressed in a white overall, “Excuse me doctor”, ‘yes,’ he responded. “Why is it that I can’t move my legs?”Just relax everything will be ok. That was all that the doctor told me. Then in came my husband and when I asked him what had happened to me, he explained that a matatu had hit me a day earlier and a good samaritan brought me together with my children who had been with me to the hospital. “How are the children?” in pain I inquired. My husband told me they were all fine and that none of them had been injured. I was informed that I was set for an operation and it was not long before I was taken to theatre. This was the beginning of a series of tests and operations… but unfortunately, despite all this, it became clear that I could no longer use my legs… I cried and wished I had died instead of having to be on a wheelchair for the rest of my life….
A month later I was released from the hospital on a wheel-chair and prescribed anti depressants among a series of medication I had to take. For the next days, my life was not the same - I pitied myself, felt hopeless and helpless… Then one morning when my husband had left for work and the children had gone to school I struggled and got onto my wheelchair and went where my medication was kept and swallowed what I believed then was the whole dose of one of the medicines. A funny feeling came over me as I fell from the chair and tried to crawl towards the door…The next thing I remember is once more waking up in a hospital bed. I later learnt that my husband had come back home to pick something he had forgotten in the house and was in good time to rescue me from imminent death.
Many of those who visited me advised us to seek help and I acknowledged that I needed this help as I could not continue the way I was going. I am currently still attending counseling sessions and beginning to accept my situation. I am also realizing that though I tried to end my life, I did not actually want to die…all I needed was someone to listen to me. I am starting to face my new life in a positive way. I now have the strength to exercise, I am able to sleep better, am starting to acknowledge the care and support of my family and friends and I am also learning how to challenge negative thoughts that keep coming up. Life is starting to come to normal - not because things have changed for the better but because I am starting to accept myself and my situation. I am sad, but I am getting better.