The pleaser 2

Iwas happy and I was sad.

I was sad that I would never see my parents again, yet happy that I had been given another chance at family life once more.

From the back seat, I looked at my future. They were a replica of my parents, considering the love they showed each other. They finished one another’s sentences, loved unconditionally and were very generous. However, there wad something they did wrong that I never really understood up until this very second.

They never allowed me be me.

The clothes I wore were never good enough. My make-up, hair style, friends, school courses, future ambition, nothing was ever good enough as long as it was not picked for me by my foster parents.

At first, I was indifferent. Like every other kid from the system, I had learned to shield my emotions in the shell of nonchalance until the subtle threats came along. Reminders that I wasn’t one of them and at any time I could be returned. I didn’t want to return to the system. There were pitfalls in the system of which I did not want to be a part. This was when I decided to be of my best behaviour. I became a puppet whilst they remained the ventriloquist.

Whatever they demanded of me, no questions asked

At first, it proved to be a bit of a task, especially for an independent child. But once I got a hang of it, it was a breeze. I locked up my thoughts and emotions; I couldn’t handle fighting with myself every day. This pleased them.

I had gotten so accustomed to this way of life. In my mind, it was a conflict-free system and once I allowed people have their way, there would be peace and love. But I couldn’t have been more wrong.

This was my mindset all through high school, college and even at work.

Day in day out, I gave a piece of myself to anyone that cared for it, and in return I got nothing. I stood for nothing and fell for everything until today.

I woke up and I realised that I was empty. I had drained myself for everyone and suddenly, life wasn’t worth living anymore. This is what I came to realise for myself and I was going to end things. I didn’t really care or consider the gravity of taking my own life. All that mattered is that at that point I had made a decision for myself, by myself and I was going to carry it out.

Different voices with different solutions started to race through my mind at the same time, drowning out my own thoughts. This made me upset because my one genuine idea had been ruined by the incessant and insatiable wants of others.

Immediately, I hopped out of bed and walked out of the door in nothing but my pyjamas and bare feet. I carried no cash along and therefore couldn’t go to the drug store to get the pills that I wanted. I left the knives behind and I had no gun. The next best thing was to jump off the nearest bridge.

I walked across the road leavingca trail od curses behind me from the drivers who almost collided. I paid no attention but continued on my way and then I heard a tiny voice say:

“Take my slippers.”

I paused, my thoughts still invaded yet receptive.

I then felt a tug at my pyjamas. I looked down and saw the cutest eyes on a very dirty face. It was the child of a roadside beggar.

“You don’t have any shoes, take my slippers.”

My suicidal thoughts came to a crashing halt. Here was a child, who had grown up on the streets and probably eaten only dumpster food all his life and has just one pair of slippers and yet is willing to part with it, just to help a stranger. Just to help me.

Life is what you make of it. Think positive thoughts for yourself always and about others, speak positive things because  you do not know what your neighbour is going through and that kind gesture might just save a life.

Oluwaseyi Lawal