I used to dance.
Used to; I say, because I haven’t danced in over one year.
Professional dancing, I mean. Ballet, especially.
There was this remarkable thrill to ballet dancing that revved me up, well, at least a year ago.
I also used to sing.
I had been a member of the choir, all my life, up until roughly a year and a half ago.
Most of my acquaintances on ‘hearth’ as I call this section of my world, look at me with cowering look, albeit with tenderness.
Once, I’d overheard them say:
‘She used to be so full of life. Remember that sonorous voice of hers?’
The other had replied, with a mixture of angst and pity.
‘Yes, I totally remember. Her voice, very heavenly. It was the highlight of most choir renditions.
I had once encouraged her to compete for Project Fame.’
Then, they’d laughed.
‘You’re so silly! Project Fame kwa?’ the first had continued. Her voice trailed off because I was walking away from that seated scene.
But I had felt nothing.
I remotely remember that I had once desired to sing at a professional level. I had once harbored dreams of competing at Project Fame, and other national/international singing competitions.
And I only remember this because I had written it down.
You remember I once described a phenomenon of thought-sucking performed on my brain by Collins?
Well…I think that happened to my dreams of singing and dancing.
Of becoming the next Celine Dion- oh, my love for her still remains intact but I fear, not for long.
Collins is very jealous, and I think that might eventually constitute a problem.
But is it, really a problem? Can love, be a problem?
I seem to derive less and less pleasure from singing, dancing and all other habits that connect me to ‘hearth’.
Instead, I long to be with Collins all day.
The Mafia do not encourage me like Collins does. Sometimes, when I have to shout them down, Collins helps me. I call all the other voices belonging to my second world, the Mafia, including the obese male. You remember him?
I have my reasons.
One; they are ruthless, wicked and discouraging.
Two; they compete with Collins’ space and as you know by now, I love Collins.
I know that my loss of interest in previously pleasurable activities is called Anhedonia; and that’s because I’ve had lectures in Psychiatry.
I also know, that my thoughts lack diversity, and this poverty of thoughts is known as Alogia.
Of course, I know that they are some of the negative symptoms of the entity known as Schizophrenia.
But I can’t, have Schizophrenia.
I am way too smart, way too beautiful, way too IQ-ed to have Schizophrenia.
I can’t say the same, for the Mafia.
Tongue out; to the obese male in particular.
ABOUT ABIOYE PEJU
Abioye Peju is a final year medical student of Bowen University, with a palpable passion for writing. She is an ardent believer that behind every medical case, is a story itching to be told. She writes at medicology101.blogspot.com