The period after getting a job is supposed to bring happiness and hope. It is meant to be a time of revival, where your energy is revived. I had a lot of expectations and plans when I started the job. I had timeframes within which I wanted to accomplish certain things.
I expected things to be difficult in my first month because I would need transport money. Hard is an understatement when describing my first month at work. In addition to dealing with lack of money, I also had to deal with adjusting to my new environment. Everything was different from my previous experiences. It needed a huge adjustment on my part.
Because I had started work mid-month, the salary I got at the end of the month reflected that. I struggled to pay my immediate bills. My creditors became impatient with me, applying pressure on a daily basis. I tried negotiating with them, but only a few of them were understanding enough to accept payment plans.
As a man, I was trying to absorb most of the pain in an effort to shield my wife. I wanted her to concentrate on the kids with minimal frustration. Needless to say, I failed miserably. The amount of pressure I was under made me lose so much weight. I never thought I was ever going to wear a size 36 trouser again. I not only wore it, it needed a readjusted belt.
By the end of February 2024, I would spend days on an empty stomach. I spent the day drinking water at work. I lost further weight, so much so that a colleague from another branch of the company commented on it. I got so used to not eating to a point that I lost the desire to eat. Even when there was bread at work bought by the company, I couldn’t eat. Somehow in my mind I had started thinking I was unworthy of food. I started asking myself if I had a reason to eat, given that I was failing to take care of my family.
I continued having massive breakdowns privately. I would put on a brave face at work and make a lot of jokes to try and hide my pain. As soon as I walked out of the company’s doors, everything would coming flooding back. Most of the days I wouldn’t even have transport money to go back, so I would reach out to any and everyone I knew. This went on for nearly a month until I got tired. I felt like a burden because some people stopped taking my calls.
Sometimes I would knock off and go to the City Hall and sit on the public benches hoping for a miracle, crying all the time. I would pick a secluded spot where I could cry in peace without anyone noticing. I have had to walk from town to where I stay more than once. It’s a nearly 3hour walk when walking briskly.
I got to a point where if anyone asked me how I was, or how my family was; my eyes would tear up. Just thinking about my situation brought tears to my eyes. One day it started raining when it was time to knock off. I went to the kitchen because there was no one there. I was sitting with my head bowed until a colleague came and asked if I was ok. I said I was, but I couldn’t hold back my tears. He went and told my boss. She asked what was wrong, but I couldn’t tell her. I was now at a point where I found it hard to ask for help of any kind from anyone. I eventually opened up to her and she helped me quite a bit.
I remember this other day when I knocked off feeling really stressed out. I was just walking aimlessly in town until I passed a church where people seemed to be praying. I went in and sat on a chair and prayed and cried for about an hour. It was the beginnings of what has been the lowest point of my life.
I love a good action movie. I grew up on action movies. There is usually a scene towards the end of an action movie where the main character is at the verge of defeat and can’t go any further, or can’t fight anymore. You know that scene where the main character is lying down and in excruciating pain. That moment when all hope is lost, and the villain is standing over him ready to end his miserable excuse of a life. The point of a movie where all we are waiting for is to see how the main character dies. I am sure at that point, the character wants nothing more than for the villain to finish him.
That is how I felt in March. I wanted it all to end. I felt like I had failed in life and I had nothing to live for. I think that is when I started contemplating checking out. I felt as if my existence brought more pain than good. Ending my life seemed like a more logical choice. At least maybe my family would be better off. Maybe they had more chances of something good happening to them without me. I started being convinced that I was a bad omen in their lives. I started considering the quickest and most effective way of dying.
The only thing that saved me is that I had two people close to me who suggested I get counselling. I didn’t want to go. I thought counselling was for women and weak people. Eventually I went to an organisation that offers free counselling. When I got there I sat outside trying to control myself and pull myself together. Eventually I went in and got a counsellor.
Over time I have tried to work on some issues and the suicidal thoughts have subsided. I have been working on accepting help again, opening up and letting people in. As I write this post, it’s also a way of opening up. I am a long way from home still, but I think I have made significant progress. I am still deep in debt and some of my creditors are not giving me peace. Some days are worse than others. I still find myself being anxious and feeling depressed, but at least I no longer go as far as wishing myself harm or even death.
I still sleep on an empty stomach oftentimes. Our four year old daughter still spends time at home because sometimes we can’t afford to pay her school fees on time. I still leave home in the mornings with enough money to get to work only. I can’t even call people to ask for money because I owe everyone I know. I still fail to buy my hypertension medication. I still can’t give my family decent and enough meals in a day. I still have critical bills I need to pay. I still hide behind making other people laugh at work. I am still fighting feelings of inadequacy on a daily basis. I am trying to rebuild my self confidence.
The battle is still raging. I am scared because at times everything is dark, it doesn’t seem like there is hope. I am that lead character lying in front of the villain, waiting for him to end it all.
But at least the breakdowns have gone now, and the thoughts of self harm are at bay. I hold on to those little victories because my life depends on them. The blog has potential to be a life line too. If I can reach even one man out there and make him believe again, I will have a sense of purpose too.
I don’t know what will come next in my life, but at least now there is a tiny little part in me that is hopeful.
That’s all I can do for now, to be hopeful.
Till the next one,
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