I met Ohemaa in my freshmen year. She was a sight to behold, and when she spoke, she sounded like an angel. One of the things that moved me about her was her smile; it was the way her lips parted to reveal her perfect set of white teeth. Oh, and her eyes were so beautiful. Those dark irises always stirred strong emotions inside my chest. Honestly, every time I looked at her I thought, “This must be the kind of beauty the queen of Sheba possessed.”
As time passed, I went from admiring her to talking to her. Then we got close. I cared about her and she cared about me too. Our friendship always got people whispering behind our backs. They thought we were more than friends, but we knew what we were so we never paid attention to them. Then nine years after our first meeting, I found myself deeply in love with her. It was a difficult time for me to fall in love with her because my mental health was unstable.
I had been struggling with an anxiety disorder for as long as I can remember. As the years progressed, things got very bad for me so a friend recommended a therapist for me. So I was in therapy when I started dating Ohemaa. As I write this, I feel sad that the most beautiful relationship I have ever had happened at a time I was lost in my own head. I thought therapy would fix what was broken inside my head so I could enjoy the love I shared with Ohemaa, but healing is not a car trip on a highway. Healing is sometimes, a tedious climb up a mountain. There is no rushing it.
I remember sessions with my therapist, where we talked about my relationship. I always told her, “My girlfriend is my light in this dark time, so I am working hard on my recovery so I can be the man she deserves.” And today, I am happy to say that the light she gave me all those times is what propelled me to get here today. However, I am also sorry that I offered myself to her when I knew I was broken. I loved her, and I tried to be good to her, but my deceptive mind made me unable to prove my love for her.
She showed me warmth, but I was too apprehensive to enjoy it. Although all I ever wanted was to spend the rest of my life loving her, the timing wasn’t right. So I patiently waited to get better. And while I waited, I struggled. Some days, I couldn’t even gather the strength to get out of bed. On days like that, I wouldn’t even talk to her, for fear that she would perceive me as weak, and resent me.
On days I felt better; I would polish myself up, go to work, and be a ray of sunshine at the office. No one at work knew the demons I was battling. They didn’t know the courage it took me to get out of bed sometimes. They thought I was a happy person. Everyone in my life thought I was a happy person. It was only Ohemaa who knew about my struggles. Some days, she cried when she saw me wallowing in the darkness of my mind. And her tears always destroyed me. It broke my heart into a million pieces and moved me to almost cry. I say almost cry because I was too empty to actually cry. I had no tears in me.
During our happy times, I wanted to be a spontaneous lover. I wanted to take her on surprise trips and dates but I was afraid of the unknown. I was obsessed with planning everything to the smallest detail and then overthinking the details until they consumed me. That’s the thing about anxiety. It sucks your energy. Because of this mental illness, I always cancelled plans with her. We would both be excited to do something but when the time arrived, I would make excuses and back out.
I desperately wanted to be the old me, the man I was before anxiety plagued me. I used to be the social chair, the life of the party, and the enthusiastic adventurer that travelled the motherland to see places. I wanted it so badly that it kept me from realizing that to get better, I would have to let go of that person, and step into the new me.
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As I replayed our past conversations over and over in my head, I realized that I wasn’t fair to her. I always overanalyzed everything she told me and assumed the worst. If a day went by and she didn’t tell me, “I love you. I am always here for you,” I would accuse her of withdrawing from me. I constantly drove myself crazy thinking “Is this the day she finally leaves me? She knows I am weak so she will walk out the door any moment from now.” No matter how hard she tried, I just couldn’t accept that she loved me regardless of my mental illness. In retrospect, it was my illness that rather brought us closer than anything we ever endured.
Perhaps, if I wasn’t afraid of showing people what I was dealing with, it would have made things easier. From the moment I woke up in the morning until the moment I went to bed, I was afraid I would have a panic attack and breakdown in front of everyone. I was so embarrassed about my problems that I felt that if I had a mental breakdown in front of everyone, I would be ruined.
I was also constantly comparing myself to other men, and the man I was, before the death of my parents. I wondered why I couldn’t be as strong as I used to be. Following certain people on social media didn’t help me feel any better about myself either. Seeing everyone else around me living the life I once lived, and having guilt-free fun, while I could barely make it through a day, destroyed my confidence.
I was scared that I would never get better, especially when I was at my worst. Sometimes I would drink myself to sleep to ease the pain. “Everyone around me is doing it,” I would tell myself. Although I knew that I was drinking to calm my nerves before I could sleep, I didn’t want to admit it. When Ohemaa found out, she questioned me and made me face the truth. This is why I loved her deeply. She was my strength in my weak moments. She made me better than I ever strived to be.
I Didn’t Marry You To Become A Baby-Making Machine—Beads Media
At some point, I pushed her away. And this time, she didn’t come back. That’s why I am sharing my story here today. I have recovered. I am no longer a broken man, but the superwoman who stood by me in my difficult time is nowhere to be found. I hope this story finds her. I hope she reads this and knows that I still love her, and I miss her greatly. Her strength and power were my inspiration to get better. So I am here now, a better man, praying to see my love again.
— Selorm
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