I have a friend. Let’s call her A. A is the friend who follows you everywhere. She’s also the friend who doesn’t know how to shut up. If you’re wondering why I would use such a tone to describe a friend, it’s because I don’t even like her in the first place but she insists on us being friends. A also happens to be paranoid and because of that she introduced me to privileged problems. For example, on a random day you’ll find me contemplating whether to use Bolt or Uber. There are days when I can’t get myself to take a matatu because A has convinced me that might turn out to be a dangerous mission. What if nipitishwe stage, and now I have to start a new life somewhere far away from my dogs? What if my phone gets stolen? What if a random person in the matatu sees me and judges my outfit and hair? What if the makanga forgets to give me my change immediately? How am I supposed to ask for it? That’s just one experience of having A’s paranoia grow on me. Most days, we fight. Sometimes she wins, and I lose; sometimes I win, and she loses. In as much as I don’t like A, I feel like being optimistic today so thank you A, for giving me privileged problems like deciding whether to take Bolt or Uber. Here’s to you anxiety.
B. How about we play a guessing game for this one? Guess the B word. Here’s a hint; you’re watching a movie and this guy and his girlfriend get into an argument. The girl gets so angry that she smashes his car, burns his clothes, and breaks his stuff. Such a psycho, right? But if you’re one of the “woke” ones, there’s another term for it. One that starts with a B followed by I then P. Bip….? If you guessed bipolar, tell your boss I said you shouldn’t show up to work tomorrow. It’s my gift to you for being a smart one. It’s been 3 years of navigating life living with Bipolar II Disorder and, honestly, I’m yet to smash someone’s car. People have given me reasons to do it, though, and I have to admit that sometimes I do it in my head. However, it has taught me that there are beautiful people out here. People who love you. People who accept you. People who support you. Just as you are. The bipolar term has taught me that situations or terms given by people don’t define you. I’ve heard them all. Delusional, crazy, overreacting, etc. But there’s a guy up there who already defines me, who gives me an identity, and I choose to live by what he defines me as.
C for cramps. C for Covid. C for Chandler Moore. C gave us Miss Covid too, and if there was ever a “what the hell?” period in our lives, then she takes the trophy for it. Covid gave and took. For starters, it took my guka. The mention of it has tears welling up in my eyes already, so I’ll leave the sad at that. On the bright side, Covid gave too. It gave Covid babies and Covid marriages. I also happened to be on the receiving list, so I got a Covid relationship too. Do you want to know the best part? It gave me one with a man whose name also starts with the letter C. Of all the letters, C is doing the most here. Back to the relationship gist: So I knew this man, but I didn’t know him that well. We talked once in a while, but somehow I always ended up ghosting him. He didn’t mind a little ghosting, and I loved that he didn’t mind. One random Covid day, I got very emotionally hurt, and I decided to hit this guy up. There’s something about hurting that makes you go back to familiar people or places. And so I did. I hit him up, and we talked that night, and he told me that “psychotic” bipolar girls like me were his type. I was embarrassed and sorry that I had ghosted him an uncountable number of times, but he told me he always waited for the day I’d go back to him. Guys, It was such a beautiful conversation, I cried that whole night. As time went by, I found myself more and more interested in this man. Our conversations were so beautiful, and so was he. It’s been 2 years now, and it keeps on getting more beautiful. I do have my days, of course, but this man’s patience and forgiveness are unmatched. This man loves me and chooses me every day. This man is named Christ. Who did you think I was talking about? Charles? Girl, get up and look for this man too. I don’t mind sharing him. His love is big enough for all of us.