Of suicide and life’s substance

*email updated. Just for you…

I have talked about suicide here before, but there is an awkward space that one enters after when you choose to fight for your life.

You’re very aware you cannot kill yourself no matter how well you plan it or merely think it is the way out. But then you also look at your life and are in limbo, you know it has meaning but the details are a bit sketchy- and we don’t like sketchy. You have a lot to be thankful for but you’re super sad- it’s weird, right?

If you read this and you’re in that space, know that you’re not alone. We are legion. I don’t have an answer but I find that a burden shared is sometimes lighter.


wambairemaureen@gmail.com. If you have absolutely no one to talk to, I am here for you. I promise to never air your business. I do also hope you understand that we are our own savior because we have God within us. So, if you do share, I can only listen to the best of my ability and share whatever wisdom I have picked up along the way. But above all, see a professional therapist or psychiatrist. They are equipped to help us out- I am a testament that they work.

If you’re absolutely fine and you know someone who isn’t, share this with them. It just might help.

Don’t despair.

Cheers.

When Kings make mistakes: the value of a woman’s voice

My Facebook timeline this week (pretty much since it came into existence but hey) had me thinking just how much we still both overtly and subtly chisel women down. It’s more overt when we do things we’ve been “taught” by the patriarchy not to do. Preferred tool of choice? Shame. Which brings me to “nagging.”

So it’s said this year the yawning emoji will be launched, and of course there’s memes about it. The one that just made me sign was the one about men sending this emoji to women who send those “stupid long paragraphs.”

Well.

I am the kind of woman who sends long paragraphs when I need someone to understand something. I am a believer of context and in removing ignorance about how I wish to be treated. And since we’re throwing shade, if I send you long paragraphs more than twice in one month, I am usually a step away from using crayons to aptly illustrate my point. I am usually, at this point, frustrated and angry. Not talking about it, ignoring it and continuing to do the same thing I brought up, to me, is a sign of disrespect.

#TimesUp

But as women we’ve been told not to nag. STILL. We are more vocal, but that’s still there, only this time different words are thrown around.

We’ve been told men don’t like long stories. Men don’t like being told when they are wrong. First seduce and feed him, then sweetly tell him what about his behavior is affecting you and what you’d like done differently. If he changes, reward him. If he doesn’t, you should still treat him like a king. Also, if you can ignore it, please do. For the sake of peace. You don’t want to be the reason he steps out of your union. If you don’t keep quiet he’ll go find another woman that appreciates him for who he is.

~~~~~

Ciru Ngigi had started a conversation on Facebook many months about children and daughters specifically being angry at their mothers for the men they chose to marry. I wrote or asked something in the comment section and this lady DM me. We talked quite a bit; she made me realize that for the most part, family dynamics are toxic. But there’s something she said that pains me till today. Her husband will insist on having sex even when she doesn’t want to, and when she is in pain. She has no choice but to be quiet for the sake of her daughters. We’ve been taught, “If it’s your husband, it’s not rape. So keep quiet and don’t try to bring drama.” 

~~~~~

Men can talk about your outfit, body, mothering skills, cooking, working, not working, temper, attitude, vagina size, weakness, speaking up, number of sex partners, where you’ve been, whether you deserved to be harassed or raped, menstrual cycle, how many kids you do or don’t have, character, HAIR, mental health, hormones, curves or lack there off, outfit, drinking, partying, praying, being a wife material or nah- and God forbid you tell him how communication is important to you.

I’ve been told a lot of things by male age mates that have stuck with me but for this context I’ll tell you two. 1) “Wambaire, don’t be those chicks” after calling out bad behavior. 2) Men are the head and women are the neck. Aka men are meant to think for women so we have to run decisions about OUR lives by a man first.  

I’ve been character assassinated and blue ticked for pointing out things that dishonor me. You’d think I’d tweeted “@blah your penis ain’t shit” and send a screenshot to his family group.

Before we get into the whole “that’s not a real man” narrative, let’s look at the wider context of what the woman faces. If you’re not married and with no kids (or do) in your late 20s, it’s like you’ve attracted such characters since your campus days. Not all men are like this, duh. However, these snide remarks and memes I see online let me know that there’s contempt against women who dare point out something a man does that’s making them unhappy.

Here’s the cream for me; the sketches and memes about the “crazy” chick. The one who breaks up with her man for not responding promptly? And how dare she do that? Never mind your phone is always in your hands when you two are together. And this is just one example.

What I am tired of is how women being told to shut up has morphed now more so into “humor” and gas-lighting so that men can still be mostly PC when they say “it’s just a joke”. That disclaimer is lest the feminist movement comes after them so they can say “it’s not about you, it’s about THOSE chicks.” And when you push hard enough, you’re now the problem for having no humor and maybe, just maybe, you are those chicks because look at you acting crazy.

Like, as in, it’s 2019. We haven’t grown past high school?

#metoo and #timesup are amazing, but my timeline tells me plenty of men are raising little boys like them. Boys who’ll silence my daughter if she dares say what makes her unhappy and she values. Because it’ll mean she wants and needs to be heard.

And what would be the value of her voice anyway?

Don’t make the monkeys dance; take them back home

“Not my monkey, not my circus”

I think that every spiritual journey comes with a moment where someone fell off the face of the earth. The lawyer who owned a Ferrari sold it off and went to become a monk. Elizabeth Gilbert went off to Bali. Jesus didn’t have these luxuries so he went to the wilderness. I also feel nuns disappear of ages before resurfacing- you’d think they all enter into service in their mid to late 30s.

I have a friend who drops off the grid months at a time. She’s taken Lent seriously, and on the Ash Wednesday I wished her a Happy Easter. She might want to prologue her leave from the world.

And then there are people like me and you. We have things we are tied to and we don’t have the time to go off for large chucks of time to be by ourselves. So we find ourselves praying for plans to get cancelled and snob calls because we need silence. It worked for Oprah. Woman was on air every day for what, 25 years?

~~~~~

The reason I don’t like other Christians aka my fellow brethren and sister-ren is because we are a huge pile of mess. You’d think the sinner’s prayer was a cotton swap that wipes your foolishness, crazy making, fornicating, cheating, murdering, adultery-ing, lying, and corrupt, hating and gossiping self. Like you’d think that, no? The reason I don’t like them is because I am trained not to like them, because I have been trained not to like myself.

Be like Jesus, they say. If I was to remove the fact that we are called into a son ship with God and Jesus is my brother, I am nothing like Jesus. NOTHING. The older I get and more frustrated I become with my reality, the more I want to crawl into the hole these enlightened people crawled into. And it’s not even because the world is crazy. Unless you are self-harming and have problematic thought patterns, sinning without involving other parties is HARD! Like what will you do? Rob yourself?

That brings me to this realization. When you are transforming and going hard on the inner or spiritual journey, you are SENSITIVE on levels that you can’t even believe. I have become like my grandmother.

When I was young we’d go to the village over holidays for a few days to weeks. Now my Nairobi body needed lotion-ing, not Aremis, after a bath if we were going somewhere. I can’t remember what I was getting from the outside kitchen that was so smoke-filled that I could barely see my grandma. But before I was two steps in, I heard her say in my mother tongue, “HM! Get out! I cannot stand that perfume!”

It took shooing by an aunt to realize she was referring to the lotion I had on.

That’s me right now, but with bull-dung.

~~~~~

Spiritual journey do not come from a place of feeling high and mighty and better than the rest. It is distorted to mean such when the reality is people take these journeys to deal with things within themselves and to elevate to a higher experience of living. It is becoming so acquitted with the bull-dung within yourself that you spot it in a heartbeat within others.

There is a tricky balance I am yet to get to. I often tell people “not everyone thinks like you” and “if I was born in their shoes I would probably be the same” to quell their rant, especially if I feel they are being utterly self-righteous. And dah, I don’t always take my advice.

I want to see people as they are, bull-dung and all, and still feeling compassion toward them.

Right now I am not there. Don’t even pray to ask God, I am telling you. And I think it is time we started having honest conversations about what happens on the journey to being more like Jesus. If someone had told me about this mess I wouldn’t be ignoring calls and messages. I would have just taken myself to the wilderness and come back when I had some sense of balance.

Sheesh!

I should write a book one day about things I wish I knew before I made the conscious decision to be a Christian. Sigh.

Point is, if your spiritual journey, Christian or not, is looking some type of way, that’s normal. Levitating cross-legged is for the movies.

Cheers.