Not touching that sh*t, even with a 10-foot pole

Happy new year!

Actually, I could care less. It’s the same nonsense just staggered forth to another lap around the sun. We still have a pandemic, and I still don’t give a fuck about a lot of things. But that’s not the point of this blog. Let me take you on the journey of the “not with a 10-foot pole” policy. And yes, I know we use the metric measurements in Kenya, with the US being the only people dumb enough to hold on to whatever the fuck they are using, but it has a ring to it. Humor me.

I’ve been a rebel all my life

I have a scary morning face. It is something between the grinch and being so upset that I didn’t somehow die in my sleep? Too dark? Welcome to 2022, where the fucks were left in 2020. So I am generally not pleasant to interact with in the morning. Two, I have a mouth on me. My opinions are strong, something my younger brother wrongly mislabeled as facts. Are you being an idiot? Yes. Will I communicate that to you in no uncertain terms? Also yes. Am I always right? No. But mostly, yes.

Not partaking in family drama

I will not expose my parents (lol), but the simple truth is that they are not perfect. There is this- I don’t know- pedestal mentality that people have about their parents and that they cannot do anything wrong? Yea, I missed that class, and if it wasn’t being taught, that gene escaped me. I have no problem telling my parents when they are out of line. And please, don’t try this at home. You might catch a flying slipper or get excommunicated. I put this down to basically who I am as a person. And my parents made peace.

In my 20s (girl, you is old), my mum told me the reason she stopped beating me as a child (welcome to Africa, my non-Africa readers!) was that she thought she’d kill me. That’s how hard-headed I was from the jump. She’d tell me to do something, and I was okay doing it, but I’d always ask why if it didn’t make sense. She thought I was a witch at some point.

Last year, my dad slapped me for being vocal and standing up for my mum, but that is neither here nor there. We are cool now. But also, when I was in high school when he was lecturing me about something, I would laugh as I watched him all worked up about something I did that he was complaining about that didn’t even make sense. He was being extra, and it was funny. So, I suppose that slap was a long time coming.

Either way, when my parents are being extra, I talk back or walk out. According to the 5th commandment, I might die at an early age. Thank God I am not an Israelite. Smiley face.

After the drama in the family, I adopted the “not with a 10-foot pole” principle.

How I learned that minding my own business was important

So, if you follow this blog, you know I nearly threw my life away to a useless man and his mother in the name of marriage. I am so glad that being in a psych ward brought out their true colors. In my true fashion, I can say “fuck you and your mama” because I didn’t know I was getting into a relationship with him and his parents. And that’s where my lessons began. 2020 was indeed a shit show for a lot of us.

And then came the realization of empathy. I was in that relationship to help him with his family drama. Yes, it was also my fault. And then 2021 just rolled in. I realized that most of my friendships were an act of charity. I was there to be a wing woman, a listening ear, a therapist, a sponsor (btw if you’re a guy and I’ve religiously bought you drinks for the duration I’ve known you, FUCK YOU), and basically someone that, you’re okay if we hang out, but you don’t want to hang out with me with your regular circle. I would be rich right now for all the unofficial therapy sessions I’ve had.

But it’s 2022 bitch!

This is where I knew that I needed to turn off the empath tap and channel it to better use: some stupid kid who’d been in Russia for 7 years. Her AUNT is someone I was in uni with, but we never quite hang out. He gets his aunt to call me to hang out at their place. Then he proceeds to take me to his cousin’s house in the name of “moving the party to another place,” only for me to be shown to the bedroom we’d both sleep in. Never mind, I’d listened to his struggles, how being back is hard, his mum, getting a job, passing exams to be able to practice medicine here…

I called Mr. King’ori and asked for uber money to get back home (Yes, I am back in school, but actively looking for a job. I am available.)

This little shit. So, you try to get me drunk, and then you think- This little piece of shit.

I thought that I was helping this 27-year-old out to get his bearing after being out of the country for so long and all that. I really was. But behold. Oh, and there’s that guy who invited me to the local, only for him to talk about his family the entire time, like it was a therapy session? Thank you for the beers, but no. It’s why I didn’t pick your calls after that. At least even ask me my favorite color. I’ll refer you to my curtains, duvet, and nail polish.

The business I am minding in 2022

One word: Henry

Other business I will mind in 2022

I am back in school—diploma in Counselling Psychology, Certificate in Life Skills and Diploma in Trainer of Trainers.

If you have an evil eye, keep eyeing.

The other business is my tribe; you know yourselves. From fries dates to laughing at memes that even the devil wouldn’t- you are my people.

What I will not mind in 2022 with a 10-foot pole

My parent’s marriage.

My younger brother (I stopped minding the elder one a long time ago)

Your drama because you refuse to go to therapy.

Conclusion

Overall, I am tired and done with being used as a therapist for people in my life. I am an empath, and things hit me hard. I cannot spend another day in bed crying over someone else and the battle they are going through. Not my family and not people I call friends. You’ve been wondering what is wrong with me? I feel too much. I am on medication for anxiety and panic attacks because I dare sit with another person’s issues, knowingly or not.

I don’t intend to make this medication a habit. My tribe is doing their inner work. If you aren’t my tribe, please, don’t call me for a therapy session. If you want to, KES 2,000. Thanks.

For my other readers, protect your space and your mind, especially if you’re an empath.

Cheers, my lovelies.

One thought on “Not touching that sh*t, even with a 10-foot pole

Leave a Reply to Anonymous Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s