A password will be e-mailed to you.

Deola (@D3ola) strolled onto my TL one day like that. Our friendship is weird. But her story seems so familiar. Enjoy…

=====================================================================================================================
So do you all want the good news or the bad news first?
You see, my mom always told me to ask that question. She also told me that even if they said they want the good news first, start with the bad so that the good covers it up and makes the bad seem very little.
The thing is I’m not sure if the good of this year covers the bad. This year can be said to be the worse year of my life. I’ve been through a lot of crap but this year made me realise that I was still in for way more crap.
So bear with me as I take you all through my 2011 (both the good and the bad together)

It started off badly.

Mother was being a drama queen, father was being his usual self. Brother in the middle, being annoying as anything. I was all on my own, trying to get by, trying to be normal with all the madness around me. I had that anchor, that weight, that shoulder I could lean on and talk to. I literally had no friends, just my regular drinking buddies who were all guys and would talk about ass from now till next month. In all haze of school work and family drama, I always had that shoulder to cry on.
Sadly, the end of the school year separated us as he had to move on with his life. *sigh*

Continued with school and came home to Lagos where my mother decided to put on her usual one woman show. It’s called ‘you don’t love me anymore and I will make your life a living hell by emotionally blackmailing you and making you my bitch and servant girl’. Currently still showing in my house under a different title and tickets are limited to a select few – me.

In those days where I was the only audience for my mother’s madness, I fell in love with twitter. Yes, the social networking site. I met like minds and laughed at ridiculous jokes. It opened me to a new world without the crazy family. Opened me up to a crazier family of friends. I will never forget the first time I met them, it was raining cats and dogs and we desperately wanted to go go-carting. But all we did that day was talk and laugh. I finally felt accepted by people. The sense of belonging and satisfaction I get from being with them matches no other.

I sound tres mushy right? I’ll continue now.

My fall semester was the semester I learnt to be alone and like it. I never liked being alone or having to entertain myself. I have personal demons who like to visit my mind when I’m just sitting and staring. I always try to keep myself busy no matter what so that they don’t visit. But fall semester proved to me that I could get rid of those demons. Despite the fact that I was busy organizing events for school and doing two final projects, they came. They visited and taunted me, saying I could never be good enough to do all those things. I would sit and cry at the end of every long day, wishing I could just end all the stress I was having. I remember the week I had my bath only twice and slept a total of 5 hours because I was organizing my project presentation and defence. Those nights were the worst. The demons found time out to visit me then, saying I would never make it and I would fail and have to repeat the class again. Well demons, here is this to you – I’m 21 and I made my own fashion and lifestyle magazine. Also, I got an A in my final project. In yo face!!

Did I mention anything about my 21st birthday?

I was alone in the middle of ‘F**k avenue’ (story for another time) and crying. I felt so alone and the demons were working extra overtime. I turned 21 in school with no one around me. No warm hugs or big smiles. Only the darkness of the night and the gravel underfoot to remind me that I had spent another year on this earth. Listening to Coldplay’s ‘Every teardrop is a waterfall’, I wrote and read a story about a girl committing suicide on her birthday. After reading it and wiping tears away, I started laughing. Yup, I’m weird like that.

I came home back to Lagos two weeks back, excited and ready for the holidays. Friends and family around to celebrate with. My mother was her usual self (the title of her show this time was ‘You now think you are an adult and you can do whatever you want. I will show you by not giving you any money and making sure your life is a living hell’). Two days after I came home, it happened.

I was robbed. In my own house, in my room.  I woke up that morning to find my  laptop, my blackberry, my media organizer and my money were all stolen. Note that nothing else in my house was missing. My mom’s jewellery (gold from Saudi Arabia) was on the table untouched. Two laptops in my father’s office downstairs were still there. Only my stuff was gone.

I know who took them. He is my 27 year old cousin from my father’s side who works for my dad. He is currently sitting downstairs in the office with my father working on something. But Yoruba families are complicated you see. All I can do is cry myself to sleep and shut up.
So you see, my year was kinda shitty. Sorry, very shitty. It was a year of laughs and tears. A year of ups and downs and all that stuff. It was the year I finally also realised that upon all the shit that I’ve been through, I’m raawsome. No, not awesome but raawsome (it’s an inside joke between me and my t-shirt).

Also the year I realized that no matter what, true friends will always have your back. Want to use this opportunity to thank Victor, Tula, Wole, Kevin, Bankole, Dania, Toxic, Dayo, Bule, and my crazy white chick and fruit sister – Cece aka Mama Ayo. I love you all from the bottom of my heart. 
That’s my 2011 for you. This is me hoping and praying that everyone’s 2012 will be far better than 2011.

Gotta go now, the mother is calling for me to watch her usual morning drama.

================

Dear Deola, your self-awareness is amazing. You are not afraid to look inward no matter how ugly it seems. This makes us believe they you will pull through in the end. (((hugs)))

Be back at noon for Tolu’s take on her year.