Numb or simply indifferent.

Hello darlings! How was your weekend? First of all, I want to say a very big thank you for all the birthday wishes. 

I have a story here written by my friend with the beautiful mind. Toyole will soon have a column on this blog, so you will be seeing more of her write-ups. Thank you for the many clicks but I need your help.

To move this blog forward, more audience is needed. I will really appreciate it if you can tell people about the blog. Share links on the different social media’s you use and help increase the number of views. If you have any suggestions or contributions for me, you can use the comment box or send me a mail at Mayowa25@yahoo.com. You can also send me a mail if you need someone to talk to or you want to share a story. Thank you and have a beautiful week. By the way, there is an entry you should totally check out after this.

Now, let’s read Toyole’s story....

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 My brother died. My brother is dead. Each time I say it I half expect it to provoke some emotion, something in my heart, a catch in my breathing, a pang in my chest. As usual, nothing, I feel nothing.

    I'm distracted by my mum, she’s crying, no more like wailing; well she has always been very dramatic. I don't know what to say, I want her to stop, it’s making me feel uncomfortable, she's so loud!  "Oh God! Why didn't you take me first? I have suffered too much in this life! Take me! Just take me too! I can't bear this anymore! Why didn't you just take me on the operating table?" Gosh, she's so dramatic, I almost rolled my eyes. You should see her rolling on the floor, clutching her stomach where she just had her operation.

   And no I'm not a child who doesn't understand what's happening, at least I think I'm not. I'm 18, legally an adult in some countries. I just don't feel anything. And I'm not a cold hearted bitch…, well not completely. My brother and I were never really close, in fact after the stage where I used to follow him everywhere and worship him ended we always fought. And yes I’m talking physical, brutal fights. As we got older we learnt ignoring each other was best, we could be in the house for over a month and not say a word to each other. It saved us the shouting matches and the scars that usually accompanied our fights. In recent years, we had been learning to be tolerant of each other, actually speaking to each other and lo and behold it wasn’t so bad.

“Olorun O! Iya ti mo ti je laye yi po!”  My mother is still at it. My dad is just shaking his head. He always said that's all he would do if my brother died. I wonder if he regrets not making an effort to tolerate my brother more. I wonder if he regrets that they never had a father-son bond. I wonder if he regrets that he can't remember the last time he and my brother had a civil conversation, one where he wasn't shouting at him or one where my brother wasn't disrespecting him.  He always said if my brother died he wouldn't cry or mourn him for up to a month. I wonder if that's true now, if he feels relief from all the sorrow, pain and frustration my brother caused him, if the reality is as he imagined. Is that a tear I see? Oh no, he's just cleaning his eyes.

    My little, no, younger brother is crying. He's not so little anymore, he's my height. He was always the most normal one. Not much theatrics there. He's sobbing, shoulder jerking sobs. He's not crying silently neither is he too loud, just normal sobs. You can tell that he misses our older brother. They always had a bond that I could never understand.
    *Sigh* Oh I hope that wasn't loud! Well they'll see it as my way of mourning, sighing from time to time along with my red eyes from crying but not over my dead brother. I hope nobody notices how bored I am, you can only observe mourning people for so long before they start repeating their actions and you lose interest. They think I'm being strong for my family. Some have walked up to me telling be to make sure I'm there for my family. All these people crying so much you'd think they lost their own sons as well.

    I really want to go back to that episode of Grey's Anatomy I paused earlier. I just watched the episodes that covered the plane crash. I have the episode with Mark in a coma on pause. Grey's Anatomy could always provoke so much emotion from me. At least if they keep seeing me with red eyes they'll assume I'm also mourning but in secret.

 
    *Stomach grumbles* I'm hungry. I wonder when they're going to leave and when we are going to eat. Oh I hope these visitors brought food, that's what they do in movies right? Oh we should have a wake and drink to honor my dead brother! Or did he die too young for that? I know we can't have a party like they do for old people. How long do I have to keep wearing black clothes? I'm running out of them.

   My mother has started again. I have to show I'm concerned. Why can't I be like my dad who has left the room? Should I ask God to help me feel something? A sense of loss maybe? I don't really fancy the pain. No I wouldn't say I'm numb, I cry for Grey's Anatomy and I'm actually concerned for my mum. I'd say I'm simply indifferent to the death of my brother…. Nope still nothing.

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Have you ever felt like that? Felt numb when something bad happens around you or to an acquaintance or a distant relative? Everyone else is sad but as much as you want to feel some kind of emotion, you can’t. If you have, tell us about it in the comment box.

To the world, Adios!!!