For June 7th, 2019

Hi there! Is there anyone out there wanting to write a psychiatry textbook? Because I’m just a body filled with the natural history of various spectra of psychological illnesses.

Alright, I’m exaggerating. But I think my story is worth sharing. It should get to a whatsapp status at least if not a medical journal.

I met Yemi in 2013, and we became a lot closer in 2017. I have never loved any other the way I did he. Infact I have never loved any other before him.

It was all butterflies when we first met. Oh he took care of me. Or did he? I don’t know. I was so laid back, blind to all the red flags he portrayed. My friends who have preying eyes of eagles too where blinded by his deceit and couldn’t warn me of the possibilities of the scars I have today. He looked like dinnner table set for a queens banquet, and his baritone voice made my eyes roll upwards and made my cheeks make a rather painful to watch attempt at turning cherry red, I can’t even describe how amazing he smells but I definitely did have a flare of androgens whenever he was around.

All I did for him was to look pretty, tried to step up my slaying game for him by calling Dayo Oluyi to make me a white coat ‘to gbayi’ and sent for a stethoscope from the U.S, my theatre scrubs which Anthonia still borrows till this day was from Teezar. If only I took the substance of the relationship more seriously than the flaunt for social media.

I didn’t know anything about Yemi not his surname, not his age, his height, state of origin. Nothing! You could say I was stuffless. I was so overwhelmed with the superficial I forgot about the deep.

When Yemi threatened to leave me was my breaking point in November 2017. This was in preparation for a certain examination. He threatened to leave because I didn’t know him.

I lost myself, I lost my spiritual sense, I isolated myself from friends. This was not entirely purposeful. It was a complex interplay of biological factors mainly; serotonin, dopamine, norepinephrine imbalance in my brain. Social factors like what will people say after I have flaunted this affair in their faces. Emotional factors like would I love again? Where would I go from this? Personal factors like I am better than this, I cannot be pushed down and remain on the ground. It was all too overwhelming, this pushed me to a state I later found out was called ‘depression’. I also subsequently found out a lot of the people around me also had their Yemi’s they were fighting to be with.

So I fought, I gave it my all and I fought. I don’t know what with, I don’t know how I didn’t lose my sanity. But I gave it my all.

Now that I know better I wouldn’t let myself get to that point of vulnerability. I acquire all the ‘stuff’ I ought to know while still looking good and making Dayo Oluyi richer. So when Yemi threatens to leave again. I have the substance to tie him down.

Although, I have come to find that I must love with caution and reach out whenever I get to that low point called depression. Because Yemi is not as unique as I thought he was. There are so many Yemi’s out there in town and so many people struggling with their relationships too.

However, there are also those who finally married their love and are being called Dr. Yemi-X. It doesn’t mean the turbulence of the relationship ends there but it gives us hope to what we’re fighting for.

If it hurts so much, I don’t know why we do it. But to me, if I could do it all over again, I’d do it in the

same skin I’m in.

If by now you don’t realize this is an analogy of our unhealthy relationship with medicine then well now you know.

I thought I write something for the crazy socks day. By the way, socks feel like a warm hug to me. It’s sad we’re using it to depict depression.

Goodluck to all the 400L students in their MB. If you had the patience to read this to the end, please do better and read your Chem path like this too.

With love,

A certain quiet weirdo.