OBSESSION

Growing up wasn't hard for me,I got whatever I wanted, apart from huge gifts and expensive vacations.Well,I still receive my monthly allowances courtesy of my parents. I may not have gone to a "group of International Schools" but trust me, it was a decent one. I thought I was like other children until i started noticing some unusual behaviors. I loved neatness and perfection, which was more of exaggeration than girlish. I remember getting angry when a teacher would erase the writing board and leave some writings. I have always been a neat freak since. Some months ago, I was diagnosed with OBSESSIVE COMPULSIVE DISORDER (O.C.D),A condition which people have unwanted and repeated thoughts, feelings or behaviors that drive them to do certain things. Sometimes it crushes me, but other times I view it as a good fortune.My case isn't serious and I always pray that it never gets out of hand. its always hard to share our experiences in life.But I decided to talk about what I go through and all the crazy things i do. I am always double checking everything.am the type of person who will wake up in the middle of the night, like two or three times to check if the gas cooker or electricity is switched off. so the next time am late for an appointment or a date, its probably because I went back home to confirm if I had locked my door. something that i do very time.I talked to my mum about this but she brushed it Off. Water is my best friend,Yeah literally. I am always taking showers many times a day and washing my hands every time I touch something.Sometimes my hands get affected because of too much water. When it comes to arranging things like shoes,clothes and utensils, I like to do it perfectly and in a certain way,after doing laundry, I ensure to use clothes pegs of the same color.I have no problem with this and that's why i keep on saying that O.C.D is divine.I have also wanted everything to be even ; Like when I trip and hurt my leg, i will have to hit the other leg.I know its funny, but you know the cutest thing here? I am obsessed by number three.I prefer purchasing things in threes or the ones that are packed in threes.Surprisingly when I am tapping someone or something , I have to do it three times.Honestly, I dont know whats cute about this. i hate sharing my personal things and i cant stand when people get in contact with my bedding's.I hate public washrooms and vehicles too. When am going up or down the stairs,I make sure to count them,and if I get distracted while in the process,I have to start from the first staircase.When i see decorated tiles or foot paths,I create my own imaginary pattern and walk believing it will bring me luck. The scariest thing about this condition is that it gives one intrusive thoughts.I am always thinking of bad things happening to my loved ones; and i keep on getting a feeling that if am there with them, nothing bad would happen.I get to assume that everything I think about must happen and all these circumstances makes me feel different from others. To all my O.C.D friends,talk and write about it.Have fun and seek help,its never a curse.

HEAVEN AND EARTH “In the beginning was word and the word was with God, and the word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made without him nothing was made that has been made”. The concentration was high, all eyes glued to the vicar. He was tall handsome and wore a pair of nice glasses His voice was so loud and with a bass requiring him to ignore the mic. one could notice his well-built body underneath the fitting navy blue suit. WOW! I didn’t know vicars worked out too. He used gestures., While preaching I couldn’t help but detect a ring on his finger. He was married and am sure his wife is the luckiest of the women. Yeah, to have a God fearing man in the house. He seemed genuine to me. Its been months since I went to church. Twelve, eighteen or twenty-four months to be precise. Don’t judge me yet, I always read my bible, say a word of prayer and do what’s right. Am a strong believer in Christianity. The church service was distracted by a sharp, continues cry of a child from the back seats not far from where I was seated. The congregation seemed annoyed as they even started to murmur. I couldn’t hold back and just like others, I had to see what was happening. The crying child was seated on her mother’s lap, who happened to be pregnant. It looked tiny and both wore tattered clothes which danced to the rhythm of the wind. I think in this era of internet and poor economy; people should have the knowledge of pregnancy precautions. Well, that wasn’t my concern. But there was something about this needy, young mother, she had a familiar face. Being Brenda, I may be nosy but I never forget easily. Her name is Sophie, we went to the same high school and she was a bully. She would call me names, take my properties and make fun of me because I couldn’t perform better in class like her. She made my life miserable. Have you met people who think they know everything in life but actually know nothing? Am sure you have, that’s Sophie for you. Surprisingly she was the teachers crown, getting away with everything. No one understood the kind of charm she used on them.it worked very well though. For some minutes I felt very happy. Gosh! she looked like hell. Very old and desperate. what was she doing in church? Finding solace? quenching her spiritual thirst? Our eyes met and i felt that she recognized me, I wanted to shout and tell her that I made it in life. can I forgive her? someone said that there was special place in hell for mean girls.my thoughts were diverted by the vicar’s ending words “Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all the virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. Anyone who does wrong will be repaid for his wrong, and there is no favoritism’’.

THE DECEIVING LOOKS

My weekend wasn’t fun at all. Well, I got a chance to hang around with my girls, but we didn’t do the usual shopping, gossiping and selfie taking thing. Rather we discussed about serious issues affecting women. I then talked to different ladies on the streets about their lives and researched more about the valued and top rated renown personalities. Honestly, it was quite a mission. But I also acquired a name from my friends a “feminist wannabe”.We have all faced problems in life ,right? Some give up while others fight to very end. I think it’s the outcome that matters. How its molded us positively. But what happens when these circumstances force us to live a lie? Like a con artist? Or in the mistaken identity cases? Many might ask. I live like a queen and am sure many women would kill to be associated with me.I own expensive cars,posh,houses,I get to travel everywhere whenever I want ,my kids are in the best luxurious school in the world and I have the best husband ever. I have everything money can buy. I could say that am a 1st class kind of a lady. Living a perfect life has been my dream, where everyone envies me.i have hated mediocrity and weak people, but sometimes I feel as if I have no emotions at all. Maybe it’s because of my upbringing which was scarely and full of trauma. Recently, I have been craving for something unusual. I want to be free, free from myself. I miss my kids and my marriage is falling apart .am tired of acting strong and happy to everyone. That was Karen.Well,even the rich cry. Sarah’s story wasn’t different at all. She is a beautiful lady who has gone through many surgeries to perfect her body in order to keep her modelling job. “I have always loved to model, but I didn’t have any idea it’s going to be this demanding. I might be damaging my body but the pay cheque is more important. I don’t recognize myself any more. People are always happy for me on the run way, cheering and calling my name. But don’t you think it’s painful, sad and obscene to live such kind of life? I have had silicones implants in my breasts for five years and my body is always “butchered” every month. Just for a contract? A times we envy people and think highly of them without knowing the kind of monster pricking them from inside. They say you shouldn’t judge a woman unless you’ve been in her shoes or her scarf, so whom am I to judge?