"I'm sorry I've not been home. I got busy." Aunty Yemi said as she sat across from me on the bed.
"It's fine really." I said honestly.
"So how've you been since you know what happened?" She asked.
"Well, I've been trying not to think too much." I replied.
"Since then, have you ever seen a therapist?" She asked.
I let out a small laugh. "Dad believes therapists are for foreigners and for those that are losing it."
"Typical Segun. Anyways, have you been so down, asking yourself questions and stressing yourself too much?" She asked.
"I don't want to talk about it." I drew my knees to my chin.
"It's okay if you don't want to. You can always cry. It really helps in reducing tension. You can write your thoughts down and remember, the mind is a powerful place and what you occupy it with goes a long way in affecting you. I'll be back later to ask some questions. You can use my hotspot if you want." She said as she left my room.
"Are you sure you're not tired, cause you've been running through my mind all day."
-----X
"Fuck off."
---Faithe
I'm sorry Aunty but I'm not ready for this. I locked myself in.
YOU ARE READING
Faithe {REWRITING} ✓
Teen Fiction#4 in tas #1 in Abeokuta Dedicated to all Africans who are depressed and suffer PTSD. How exactly do you explain to an African parent that you need help? Do Africans even care about the state of their mental health? How do I tell others how I fe...
