It was the twenty eighth day of the seventh month of the year of our Lord, 2022.
I woke up. A new day was upon me and the had Lord blessed me with life. I felt okay. Ready to tackle the day – or so I thought.
It was peak season at work and thus, I went straight into responding emails and preparing reports and other documents in preparation for the myriad of meetings that had been scheduled for the day.
At 10am, I received a call from one of my friends, “Hi Amanda, how’s your schedule today? We could go check out a bed at lunch time.” I obliged.
That would have been a good break to the monotonous routine of work. Operating from the same place can get boring. A change of scenery is good; plus, I wanted to see my pal.
I prepared myself for the city excursion. I was going to look for a bed like no one else could. I was going to be the best bed shopping partner any girl could ask for. I said a prayer and left the house.
I met my friend at her house and together, we went to scout for a bed from various furniture shops.
The date was interspersed with breaks where I had to take calls or respond to work emails but therein lies the beauty of remote work; any place is a good place to work.🙂
Walking around in the malls made me feel good. It was refreshing. Being a weekday and more-so during working hours, the human traffic was minimal; making the experience more enjoyable.
I’d been grappling with the feeling of aloneness and having someone want to hang out with me made me feel wanted.
We finished our shopping rendezvous right on time for me catch my next meeting. We went to my friend’s place since she was closer to the mall and I had my meeting from there.
Since it was late afternoon already, hunger pangs were banging on our stomach doors. We went to the kitchen and cooked up a storm; stealing mouthfuls here and there as the food simmered to readiness. Alas, it was time to dine and we chowed the food down like a lawn mower on overdrive. You can’t blame us though; because hunger aside, the food was so darn tasty! You know, we were two good cooks who tag teamed in the kitchen; so what else could come out of such a formidable alliance apart from a mouth-watering, finger-licking good gourmet meal? 😉 Esau would have traded his birthright a second time if he tasted our food that day. 😏
“One day Jacob was cooking a stew. Esau came in from the field, starved. Esau said to Jacob, “Give me some of that red stew—I’m starved!” That’s how he came to be called Edom (Red). Jacob said, “Make me a trade: my stew for your rights as the firstborn.” Esau said, “I’m starving! What good is a birthright if I’m dead?””
Genesis 25:29-32 MSG
Meal time was over and my pal and I got back to our respective work. Thereafter, we huddled in the living room to catch up over a cup of hot chocolate. It was a cold evening but the good company thawed the temperatures.
As I was saying goodbye to my friend, I felt a pain in my chest as I thought of going back to my house to be alone… again.
Tears welled up in my eyes and I burst out crying. My friend was puzzled. Didn’t we have a good day? What was going on?
For the past two weeks, I was an emotional wreck. I’d been torn between keeping to myself and reaching out for help.
Seventeen is my favorite number (and seven too but seventeen takes the trophy for me) and on the seventeenth of July, 2022; I burst into tears when I was on the altar in church. Streams of tears pelted down my face and drenched my blouse. I was in pain. I cried my heart out, I cried for hours on end. I cried till my pastor hugged me. I cried so much that I shocked myself at how much I cried. It’s like I didn’t know who I was and I didn’t have control over this Amanda who was so sad.
Then, there I was, eleven days later; crying with a vehemence that left me physically weak and emotionally drained. My eyes were sore and I shook so much so, my friend held me. She embraced me and with my head on her bosom, I wept until my tears dried up.
I’d been battling with chronic sadness in my heart. My mind was in a funk.
What’s my current status?
I feel like I’m breaking down and I want to be left alone but then again, I need not be left alone because I’m drowning.
I feel as though I can’t control myself anymore. I get bursts of extreme pain and I would end up crying uncontrollably on a whim.
I guess I never quite cried enough? Or experienced the grief like I “should” have? I guess my elastic limit broke and now my body and my soul is purging what I’d been bottling in for so long.
What am I doing about this?
God is doing a new work in me. He’s been sending help my way. My Pastor requested I see him every Sunday for weekly check ins. I finally told my bestie what’s been ebbing my soul.
Also, I’m writing about this.
What you’re reading is a page from my heart’s diary.
The girl with a broken heart.