Monday, 30 October 2017

ANXIETY BURNS WITH A BLUE FLAME




She is a troubled soul trapped in the incredibly curvy body expected of an early twenties African woman. Her skin bears a plush light hue that most ignoramuses associate with dumbness. Her eyes are the color of a well blended black coffee and her lips a burgundy stain on her easy to remember face, high cheekbones and all. She is indeed beautiful.

However, last Friday night, she forgot that she was beautiful. The cold evening found her clad in a little grey number and swathed in black makeup that failed to accentuate her gorgeous face. Her boobs kept leaving their assigned position in her expensive push up bra to peep out and glow in the moonlight, right below where she was perched on an outdoor bar stool. From behind, her long black mane teased the small of her back and dared the male patrons to stare, and stare they did, some even daring to approach her. However, she is a wild cat; treating them with a harsh snarl, eyeing them daggers and putting them off with a raise of her perfectly manicured claws. Today she was taking none of their leering and lewd remarks.

Then she spots him. Dashing, gorgeous and ravishing; clad in a chest hugging BU t-shirt and the grey sweats she loved so much, strolling into the club with the self assuredness expected of a hottie of his caliber. He oozed an appeal so strong it formed a field that affected her 12 metres away. Just like her, females swooned around him, flaunting their assets trynna get his attention. He just shooed them away politely; waiting for her to approach.

Behold, she arrived just as awkwardly as he expected she would. His new girlfriend, the one he chose over pretty girl in the grey number. Clad in a long white dress and bizarre shoes, she sauntered into the club, lost and disoriented, searching for him. He grinned and went to her, engulfing her in a bear hug that caused her fears to melt away, and all other females around to gasp. He smiled to himself.

Just a little longer darling. You're a diamond in the rough. You will be just as gorgeous as any other girl soon 

And from 12 meters, Miss Lil grey number continued to watch and stew her insides in psychotic jealousy and rage.
He set her to sit on a bar stool and requested the bartender to bring her a soft carbonated drink.

How dare he! 

In the sparkling lights she could see that the new girlie was a classic beauty… a little makeup, a fitting lil black dress and the right mane could transform her into a ravishing neck breaker. So that is why he chose her. She watched him lean in to peck her cheek as she turned meekly to meet him halfway with a little smile and had enough.
Slipping off the stool like a lizard, she grabbed her massive Chanel bag and strutted to the oblivious twosome with a smirk on her face. She pulled him off the chair to herself and leaped onto him, straddling him with her miles and miles of leg.

“What the flower…”

Her lips sealed off his surprised exclamation, much to his chagrin and the horror of his new girlfriend.
Then horror turned into a savage anger. Classic beauty slipped of her stool, grabbed Miss lil grey number by her hair and threw her to the floor like a broken ragdoll; scratching and slapping her as if her life depended on it.

“Stay away from my flowery boyfriend you biscuit…”

“Who the flowers are you, sleazy little village skunk…”

The bouncers came in to break off the wild fight to the disappointment of the other patrons filming the entire orgy.

Panting and bleeding were the two girls, still eyeing each other daggers, but the classic beauty was a savage, throwing spirited kicks at her opponent while still held back by the massive men.

But Miss grey lil number had run out of energy and psyche.

Shrugging off the bouncer’s built arms she slipped quietly in the midst of jeers and mocking laughter into the ladies’.

She examined herself in the mirror…

Darn it!

Her face was bleeding from four lines deeply embedded across her cheeks and some other scars on her shoulders and neck.

She started to cry.

When did I become like this? 

This was her first time in a bar, mostly preferring to spend Friday nights in bed in sweats with a novel and black coffee. She had met him in a movie shop and had been impressed by his choices, seeming to rhyme with her own choices. They had met day after day and she not only fell for his charm, charisma and deeply disturbed rugged countenance; she crashed and burned like a meteorite on the surface of the planet. The resulting lake sat still in her soul and refused to empty even when he texted her that it was over, that he had found someone more stable and “less needy”.

She cried harder.

He was right! 

Yes, even she knew how unstable she was, craving stable ground to perch on. She wanted something to believe in, someone to love and be her empty self around, anxiety, insecurities and all. Now she was positive he would never take her back after a year and a half of self emptying love making and self giving.

She searched her bag for a scarf and wrapped her cold exposed self. Deep inside she knew she was gorgeous and talented even with zero makeup. However she discovered something new in the way the men leered at her and girls envied her in her little dress; something deeply hurtful but mysteriously fulfilling. In her instability, she found a new way to spend Friday nights. She dumped the scarf back into the bag, grabbed it and walked out the bathroom door with her head held high. The last thing she could recall was the sound of her wedges hit the marble floor as she walked into the new self destructing lifestyle.

Miss lil grey number’s new behavior can be expressed through this mnemonic:

PRAISE ME

Provocative or seductive behavior
She views Relationships as way more intimate than they really are
She seems to flourish in the centre of Attention 
Influenced easily by the opinions of those around her
Her new Style is meant to impress those around her
Emotional shallowness: Fudge love and sweetness. She’s done trying.
Makeup: her black widow make up is used to garner and keep attention.
Exaggerated reactions and way too dramatic in the face of trivial issues; easily hurt;
and is referred to, in psychiatric terms as Histrionic Personality Disorder. This disorder is characterized by lustful projections. Most patients with this illness are sexually and socially bold, but emotionally shallow which significantly hurts their significant others; if they have no idea that their bae has this problem. It stems from the lineage, conditional love from the patient’s primary caregivers (parents) and may be inspired by the sexualization of women on social and mass media. Treatment is mostly CBT and psychotherapy, and some meds where the patient is depressed or anxious.
The DSM V has an excellent description of this disorder, which is real and prevalent since it manifests in most girls’ late teens and early twenties (when they join campus). Men can get it too.

As I always reiterate, I ain’t a professional, if you know a friend who needs any psychological help, please refer them to a professional counselor or psychiatrist.

Cheers everyone XX

P.S. When the girls were fighting, you can be sure they weren't saying flowery or biscuit right?  :)