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Broken 3


The five days I spent confined to my hospital room were the longest five days of my entire adult life. I literally had nothing to do but think about the decisions I had made that had led me to the point where I was.

After a thorough evaluation of the major decisions I had made thus far, I established a pattern which I had earlier suspected but had now become very apparent to me. I was incapable of making hard decisions by myself and so I let myself believe that my parents were controlling. This was my own twisted way of not having to deal with difficult issues and to ensure I always had someone to blame when things didn’t turn out right.

Every major turn my life had taken was as a result of communal deliberations. The schools I had attended, the courses I had studied for my first degree and post graduate degree. The man I had fallen in love with, the places I had worked, my decision to move back to Nigeria…I had not made any of these decisions by myself. Now I was on the verge of becoming someone’s wife and I realized that starting my marriage with this mindset would mean that I would spend an entire lifetime never doing what I wanted with my life.

The question was what did I want? I had no idea what I wanted which was why I had panicked and used my entanglement with Chigozie as an excuse to disrupt my entire life. I realized that this entire thing was not about Chigozie or how I felt about him. I had discovered this after he was released from detention over my alleged kidnapping. I had expected that I would immediately try to reach out to him but I hadn’t bothered to do so and neither had he. I knew my parents had probably ensured he could not visit me, but I could have called him or he could have called but I guess our decision not to contact each other was for the best.

That day when the doctor told me I was to be discharged in a few hours, I could tell he was surprised by my rather unenthusiastic response. My right leg was still in a cast and it was to remain that way for at least two more weeks so I knew there would be no talk of a wedding for at least another one month. That meant I had about one month to figure out what exactly I wanted for the rest of my life and because I knew I could not do it on my own, I made the most ridiculous request to the doctor.

“Please do you have a resident therapist”? I asked the doctor.

“Yes we do, but you don’t need a physiotherapist now. I doubt you will need one at all. The cast is just us being very cautious about the situation” He responded as he scribbled some notes in my file.

“I wasn’t asking about a physiotherapist. I was asking about someone I can talk to about the thoughts in my head.” I said.

He looked up at me in obvious shock. It took him a few seconds to gather his thoughts and speak.

“We have a resident therapist but I would advise against speaking with her. Considering your background, this is not the sort of the information your father or soon to be in-laws would want getting out to the public.” The doctor in a quiet whisper.

“So what are you suggesting? That I keep my thoughts to myself”? I asked.

“Not at all. I have someone you can speak with. He offers this service to high profile individuals such as yourself and he is very discreet. I will ask him to call you, if that is fine by you”. He said.

I nodded and he left the room.

I wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do but I was almost certain that if I walked through the incredible maze that was my mind with someone else, I would unravel the truth about who I was as a woman and what I wanted from my life.

I needed to find my truth and I needed to find it soon.

The very next day, I had my first session with the therapist and I knew my life was about to change completely. Here’s how it went….

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