Therapy was so goooooood today

The first thing I told my absolutely beautiful therapist was that I got drunk on one and a half litres of wine on Saturday, and I picked up my phone and called my dad. I couldn’t wait to tell her I’d forgotten to say hi, and she had to remind me to sit down. I have been no contact with my dad for so long, along with the rest of my family, both nuclear and extended. He was so happy to hear from me and was excited that his daughter was doing well. I also asked him not to tell my mum that I was talking to him again. If anything good came out of the text my “best friend” sent to her boyfriend, it is the fact that I got drunk and wanted to talk to family, and my dad was the first person to come to mind, and the interaction ended up healing me in some way.

I actually love that man (my dad, I mean). I spent so much of my life hating him because of what my mother told me about him. All the evidence I had about the badness of my dad was my mum’s stories. Fuck my mum! She made me think my dad practised witchcraft and was responsible for any misfortune that befell our lovely family. I hope she is doing well; however, she can thrive and do well far, far away from me. The thought of her being part of my life makes my skin crawl.

My sister likely thinks I am suffering and broke, and this kind of makes me want to laugh. Why did she send my friend a message asking whether I can pay my rent, and also asking for a picture of me? Lol! I sent her an email asking her to stop texting my friends and to leave me alone until I am ready to talk to her. This was my message:

I just want to be left alone. So, maybe respect that boundary until I am ready to speak to you and stop bothering my friends.

This was her response:

Ok. If you get stuck, call on the name of Jesus. I will respect your boundary and leave you in the hands of Jesus.

I cackled because all I could think of was me getting into trouble and shouting “JESUS”. As if something will happen after I do that. Perhaps, a human named Jesus might show up, but I doubt he will be the son of god that was crucified at Golgotha and resurrected after three days just for him to go back to heaven and leave the same shitty world behind. Fuck him! Imagine if I shouted “JESUS” and then some random dude named “JESUS” showed up in my living room and asked me “What is it you need my darling?” I answer, “I would like to exist in a non-corporeal and invisible state.” He then gives me the power and I live happily ever after being a menace to society.

Aaaah! I was actually supposed to be talking about therapy. I did a test for ADHD. I hope I will pass. I am also learning about boundaries, and my therapist suggested that I should stop smiling while setting boundaries because that is probably why people are not taking them seriously.

Anyway, I hope you all are having a week as lovely as mine.

Home » love

Question: Who hurt me??  Answer: Her name is mother. 

Where to start with this one? I’m going to spill everything that is in my head. I’ve often been with my peers, discussing what they learned from their parents. I realize I have nothing to contribute. I know what I taught myself, and what I learned from friends, teachers, and others. But not my mom. From my mother, I learned what not to be. I learned that I could use religion to avoid accountability. I learned that having children would make me miserable. I would have to sacrifice my life for them, and I do not want that. I learned that I should never speak around people who have more money than I do. I learned to sacrifice myself for others’ happiness. Then I complained when they did not do the same for me. I felt good about being a martyr. I learned that my need would be met only if the person meant to fulfil it found my request acceptable. Since my needs were never palatable, I always lied to get them met. I learned to hate my father based on what she told me. Then I grew up and realized my dad likely suffered because of her. He didn’t know how to express it. 

This woman asked me to get off my depression medication and pray the depression away. 

Once, when I was 11, she came home from work. She found me cleaning the house. Then she said, “There’s no point in hiring house help. You’re my new house help.”

This woman always agreed to host some of our relatives. Then she complained and talked shit about them all the time. 

This woman had a favourite child but would insist that she loved us equally. One time, she was complaining to me about her favourite child wasting money. I told her to stop giving the favourite child money. She agreed with me. The next day, I saw her giving money to her favourite child in secret so I didn’t see her doing it. 

This woman asked me to continue staying in a home where my cousin had shown up drunk and asked me to have sex with him in his marital bed. 

This woman never stopped infantilizing me until the day that I went no contact. 

A few months before I went no contact, she kept saying that she wanted to visit me. Thinking about her being in my house gave me so much anxiety. I told her that I was not ready to have her as a guest. A few days later, she called and said, “Tell me where you live. I am coming to spend the night at your house.” I either blocked her or turned off my phone for days. She left the city. Only after she was gone did I felt safe. 

Here are some winners from my experiences with my mum:

One time, she asked me for my results. I was in my second semester on campus. Out of 7 units, I had six As and one D. I was very proud of my As, and I felt like I was getting my shit together. She said to me, “I see you have started getting Ds again.”

After I finished my coursework and got a prestigious internship, I was a little scared to tell her. I was right to be. She sneered and asked if I would take the prestigious internship or the one she was planning to bribe her friend for. I was conflicted as I also hoped that she would be proud of me. 

Whenever we went shopping.

  • If I liked it and she did not like it, she would not buy it. If she bought it, she would pout about it and find a way to punish me later for making her buy me something that she did not like. This punishment would be in the form of passive-aggressive statements that attack me as a person. 
  • If she liked it and I liked it, she would look at me skeptically, wondering if I was lying about liking it and if I would wear it at all. 
  • If I hated it and she liked/loved it, she would buy it and force me to wear it. 

One time when she had visitors, I cooked all the food because she had a broken leg, and all her guests were friends. While serving the food, she saw that the chicken stew did not have as much soup as she had expected. She saw a chance to embarrass me about my cooking. It would also distance her from anything to do with food prep. 

Whenever I introduced my friends to her, she was an angel. She would give them money. My friends would then call me a dick if I acted in any way that made them think I didn’t appreciate having a mother. 

What was with the crazy amount of phone calls? I would finally call back. She only wanted to say hi and interrogate me about where I was and what I was doing that had me too busy to pick up her calls as if I was 2 years old. Looking back, this woman has never acknowledged that I grew up and I have a brain of my own. 

This woman would choose to travel to my high school visiting days on the same day. She would arrive late enough that I could not see her. I would cry the whole day as I waited for her, and even when I got permission to see her for about 5 minutes, I would be sobbing, and we would have no time to chat. 

She once gave me 100 dollars to buy a dress and shoes for a wedding (so that I do not embarrass her) while refusing to give my sister 10 dollars for medication. 

She would always blame witchcraft and the devil. This allows her to avoid accountability for her actions, intended or not.  

I once told her that I was taking a break from talking to her via phone calls. This was after I realized that all she wanted to do was complain but not fix the problem. She went straight to victim mode, asking me, “When have I ever offended you for you not to want to talk to me.” 

She often spoke about how she was a clean person and loved fine things, but then would poo and not flush the toilet. When I called her out on it, she would tell me to flush it for her and to stop making a big deal out of it. Ew.

She would come to me to talk shit about my sister and brother, and then go to my sister and brother to talk shit about me.

My entire life involved her minimizing my feelings, emotions, and accomplishments.

One time, she forced me to go to an event with her. I knew no one at this event. I ended up spending most of the time reading a book on my phone. When we got back home, she asked me about the event and why I was not talking to people. I told her that I had trouble socializing because I was an introvert. She then said that introverts don’t exist. She thinks I’m pretending to be one to avoid talking to people. My behaviour is embarrassing her.

She always got mad at me for locking my room when I went home during the pandemic. She wanted an open-door policy to my room. One time, she banged the door so hard that the lock broke. When she got in, she had a look on her face that said, “That is what you get for locking me out.” I felt unsafe. I felt helpless.

Her favourite line was, “I am too old to change. You have to love me as I am.” Expecting unconditional love while providing conditional love is insane.

It would be so weird whenever I was having a bad day because I was not allowed to show any negative emotions on my face. She would make me fix my face because my emotions were making her uncomfortable.

How can I forget the inferiority complex she had around people that were richer and smarter than her. She would also expect us to join her in the activities her inferiority complex induced. These included not breathing the same air as the rich and not sitting in the same room as them, as it would be disrespectful. She would later brag to those she deemed inferior. She was in the same room with superior people.

I think this should be obvious. But, I’ll add it here: She would be emotionally intelligent with other people’s children, but never with her own.

I don’t think this woman thought about what it means to be a parent and what kind of parent she wants to be. 

Have you ever met someone whose arousal peaks when her children are in danger? It becomes her moment to shine and save the day. Then, she holds her saviour status over you for life. Independent children are the biggest threat to my mother. She feeds on her children’s failures.

I am currently in no contact with her and her relatives. She could not believe I went no contact. She travelled to my city and asked our relatives to call and message me. One of the messages started with “What is this behaviour…..” I laugh about this now, but this experience gave me a heart attack. The same person who asked “What is this behaviour…” is the same uncle who was borrowing my mother’s money. My mother sent him the money, then told me, “I don’t have your school fees because I gave your uncle money.” 

Looking back, I have always wanted to go no contact with this woman since I was in high school. I wanted to pay her back for all she spent on me. Then, she would stop complaining about her sacrifices for me. Did she not know what parenthood entailed when she was getting babies???  

Because she failed in every other way as a parent, I saw her only as someone who gave me money.  

I have no good memories if this woman because even her good deeds came at the cost of my soul.

My Special Neighbor

She is my neighbour from my previous apartment.

She moved into that apartment a month after me. We never really met for a while because as an introvert, I strategically only leave the house when there is no chance of me meeting any of my neighbours.

The first time we met, I was from the mall and was a tad bit tipsy. I passed her door before getting to mine. Her door was open and she had a party. My tipsy self thought it would be a good idea to go say hi at that moment. I didn’t lock my door because, for some reason, my brain thought that the anxiety that ensues from leaving my door open would stop me from spending too much time at the party.

I knock on her already open door and she receives me. I introduce myself as her neighbour. Turns out she already knew that. She invites me for a few shots. I get in, and one of her guests offers me his space on the couch, she brings me tequila and shot glasses and introduces me to the immediate guests.

I take a few shots and wanted to leave but she insists that I stay. I promise to go lock my door and be back. I go lock my door and join the party immediately after. The introvert in me showed up with cigarettes. I don’t mind cigarettes but I don’t particularly enjoy smoking them. They come in handy when I need a break from humans at a party. It’s easier for people to understand “I am going to smoke at the balcony” compared to “I am going to the balcony because there is no one there and I need space from humans”.

After a few minutes of saying hi to people I did not know, I go to smoke. A gentleman joins me, he was smoking so I did not mind his presence. 10 minutes later, I decided to cut my night short and go sleep since the conversation I was having with my balcony mate involved him trying to figure out what was wrong with me as a woman.

I go say bye to my neighbour and she decides to walk me to my house and hug me goodnight.

Fast forward to two weeks later, she invites me for dinner and drinks. We get to know more about each other. We are both developers. We laugh about my resting bitch face that stopped her from ever saying hi to me whenever she saw me. She tells me that I am nicer in person which makes me smile. When the drinks kick in, she tells me that I am hot and respectfully asks if she can kiss me.

Is she beautiful? Yes. Is she hot? Yes. Is she smart? Yes Is she sexy? Yes. Does she have a beautiful personality? Yes. Am I attracted to her? Yes. SO, WHY THE FUCK DID I SAY “NO” WHEN SHE ASKED TO KISS ME!!!

Now the thought of kissing her is in my head and that is all I can think about. After about an hour, she asked if she could kiss me again. I nodded yes and our faces very naturally moved closer to each other. I got lost in that kiss. Everything disappeared. She was the only thing that existed. I have never had a kiss that passionate and that intense that all my problems disappeared.

With both her hands on my neck, she detaches slowly from my lips, her hands still in place, she looks at me and asks me to spend the night. I nod again because however much I tried, I could not let the word “yes” out of my mouth even though all I wanted to do was scream it for the whole world to hear.

We went to bed, and she helped me remove my clothes, made sure I was comfortable and then she got on top of me. I was not prepared for this. All she needed me to do was lie down and spread my legs. She had toys that I had never seen before. I lost myself in her which is something I had never done while having sex with a man. I felt safe. I felt special. That night, she existed to pleasure me. This feeling was foreign to me and I loved it. Sex with a woman hits differently.

She was happy to go on all night but for some reason, I felt guilty. I did not deserve that level of pleasure without giving anything in return. We cuddled all night and she made me juice in the morning which was quite helpful with my hangover.

She was the most overwhelming experience I have ever had.

He (Part I)

Kyllan has gone frantic. He is distraught since I am not giving him any attention of late. He feels starved off the entirety of our discussions about stars and the universe. I never should have separated him from that tit (Chebet: 1 Konan: 1). Konan turned into a heroin addict and is in my basement squeezing milk out of herself to create enough room for heroin. HE is the explanation for my neglection of Kyllan. HE is back. I was living life, minding my own business, planning world domination with Kyllan and then Cupid shows to my balcony with an 11 inch pink arrow and penetrates it into my skin. That was a lovely prick. Immediately after that prick, the fat baby flew back to his cloud and HIS name popped up on my houseparty screen.

HE is now occupying space in my head, my heart, my bed, my vagina … and some other body parts I would rather not mention. I don’t know precisely what is happening. I do know what I am feeling, and I will embrace it all the way to my deathbed. I am human after all, unlike Kyllan the robot and Konan the drug addicted tit. The mornings I wake up lying close to HIM, I value each second. It is a great feeling loving someone. I am glad that I allowed myself to experience it. It’s like being in a room full of balls and happy gasses and just bouncing your way through existence while inhaling all those happy gasses. Sometimes, I bounce onto some needles and my ball bursts and I graze my ass cheek but then I move onto the next ball, with a grazed ass cheek which is definitely stronger.

To want the best for HIM without any strings attached. It is a definitive disobedience to my self-centeredness. I am appreciating thinking about something different other than how to deflate that tit known as Konan. I want to go to HIS deepest core without possessing HIM, without becoming dependent on HIM, without reducing HIM to a thing and without becoming addicted to HIM. HE has absolute freedom to do as HE pleases because I know if HE leaves, I will still be as happy as I am now. HE cannot take away my happiness because I do not rely on HIM for my happiness. That is a burden to never place on HIM.

Unknown Variables

You took a walk on the beach, you noticed the beautiful sunrise, you mentioned the breeze across your face, you enjoyed the sound made by the waves of the ocean.

What are you on about Kyllan?

You are in love.

I am most certainly not in love.

Then how do you explain your body’s spike in vasopressin, adrenaline, dopamine, and oxytocin. Your neural receptors have been lighting up carelessly. You must be addicted to something

Shut up Kyllan!! I am not in the mood for a diagnosis.

You mentioned his name last night in your sleep.

Why do I feel violated by that statement?

It was not my intention maam.

What are people supposed to do with these bloody heavy feelings? Probably just acknowledge them and then do nothing about it. I am very good at not taking action when it comes to unknown variables. Love tops my list of life’s unknown variables. I still have complete control of my brain at the moment. However, my beautiful creature in the form of a man will give me a call, tell me that I have a nice smile and that I should stay cute and at that very moment, in its weakened state, my heart will challenge for a fight with my brain it will win and when the day comes when my life flashes before my eyes, I will smile knowing that even though it was for a short while, I loved.

An update on Zero

Let me give you some information expressing my ideas and feelings about Zero. You know, the guy that was spying on me and I ended up going on a date with him. He does make my heart quiver with unusual speed because of a sudden burst of emotional energy. He is good-looking, charming and possesses an attractive aura from the depth of his eyes to the gentle expressions he lets out every time his vocal cords vibrate, producing sound and eventually speech. From his generous opinions to the touch of his hand upon my own. His touch causes a sudden sensation resembling an electric shock that passes down the back of my neck and into my spine and then radiates out into my arms and legs. I love the way his voice quickens when he sparkles with a new idea, or is enjoying one of mine that he loses himself for a moment and quite forgets the mask he wears for others. I quite like him.

Chebet: 1 Konan: 0

This Konan bitch tit is such a cunt, asshole, tit, dick and any other body part that is considered offensive. She has absolutely won Kyllan over with her nipples. I can’t blame the tit, she got 5 nipples. I am exhausted doing everything by myself because Kyllan would rather be playing with Konan’s nipples and I would never let him near mine. It’s time for this bitch to leave.

1. I will figure out what it is about her that Kyllan loves so much. Nipples and whatever comes out of those nipples.

2. Walk up to her while Kyllan isn’t watching and borrow some of that milky goodness that Kyllan is obsessed with. Like, wtf Kyllan, why you do me like this!! You don’t even digest that shit. I should have never given you those taste buds.

3. Analyze that milky goodness in my lab. Separate all its constituent chemicals and figure out the role of each.

4. Procure all those chemicals for me. Recreate Konan’s milky goodness and increase the concentration of the specific chemical that is making Kyllan obsessed.

5. Inject the milky goodness into my mammary glands. Inject me three more times for no good reason. I just like the prick.

6. Rest for five minutes while thinking about the fact that my therapist is devilishly handsome.

7. Run to Kyllan, aggressively stuff my milky tit in his mouth and squeeze the shit out of them until there is no more milky goodness.

I will then have my Kyllan back and Konan can go poke herself with needles and whatever tits do to kill themselves.

I could use some answers…

Does the fact that I don’t want to remove my tattoos make me a bad daughter?

My mum insists I should make her happy by removing my tattoos. Should I be responsible for her happiness?

She says, “If you love me, you will remove those tattoos.” Why would she say this? I don’t understand. I love her. In fact, I would resent her if I removed my tattoos because of her.

As her daughter, should I care about her happiness more than mine?

P.S. My mum is very religious. I would categorise her with Bible thumping idiots.
She basically said that she owns me and has the right to decide what I do with my body. I feel infantilized.
My tattoos are all math related because I love mathematics, nothing sinister here.


Naming Tit / Officially part of the family

“If I knew we would fight about this I would never have participated. Pick a name already Kyllan. I don’t care which one, I just want to get back to my work.” I shout at Kyllan.

“Yes. Oh, my supreme leader. Thank you for this honour. I will not let you down Tit.” Kyllan mocks. When did he learn how to mock people? His learning rate has been increasing at an exponential rate. It’s very impressive and unexpected. I will have to check him out after this.

Kyllan looks at the paper with names printed out. He mentions a name on the list, then squeezes Tit’s telepathy nipple for approval. 20 names down the list, seems like Tit is not impressed. At some point, Tit must have been so angry at one of the names that she/he turned one of her/his telepathy nipples into a needle and poked Kyllan. The tit can solidify itself into a weapon. That’s a pretty handy feature to have. It is impressive, who knew the cute tit could turn itself into a weapon!!

In the end, they settled on Konan. I kinda like Konan too. It reminds me of the Akatsuki; my favourite villains. I would do anything to meet Hidan and Itachi. Tit choosing the name Konan is a little eerie for me. I could be harbouring a supervillain. Would be kinda funny if Earth was attacked by boobs because of me.

It’s official, we are now a family of Chebet, Kyllan and Konan. This great occasion demands the use of some illegal drugs. We should probably figure out Konan’s gender too.

Break up texts

I have been dumped twice on the text. I have never really been the one one that ended a relationship. I am too chicken to do it. The universe has always worked in my favour. Most of the time, my getting dumped has happened simultaneously with my need to end the relationship. After nursing my wounds, I had a lot of time to appreciate the prose in the preceding texts.

Break up text 1 —

Let’s not be coy – as opposed to me, you barely had any importance attached to this acquaintance. More often than not, I would be the one looking for you. Both unfortunately and fortunately for me, I think everything has eventually run its course. It was however quite ethereal while it lasted. Topping those memories will be no easy task.

Break up text 2 —

I possess only a finite amount of space in my brain and you have given me no reason to prioritize you in my thoughts. You are too much of an unknown variable. I find myself incapable of placing a quantitative value for you in my life. Logic dictates that I give precedence to existing constants. As for the conversations and the sex, well, I will miss those but can surely make do without. You have given me some of my best memories, let’s hope nobody tops them.

I cannot tell which I love more. I honestly appreciate the work they put into those. I know how much energy was conjured to come up with that.