Ever get that feeling when you've taken a leap of faith, and beelived in yourself for once and tried your hardest to suceed...

And yet every effort is met with failure and tears???



Behold the summary of my undergraduate degree.


As I am less than a month away from 'graduating' ( thanks coro coro), and on the last stage of my design project, I am reflecting back to the last three years. All the half assed effort manifesting in cramming for exams, dozens of moments where I battled between realising I am simply not cut out for my degree and a miniscule amount of hope that I AM smart, I'm just not trying hard enough, the increased effort with subpar results, the constantly envy of fellow classmates who seem to grasp content easier. etc. etc

The first two years of my three year degree ended with disappointing results, a 63 and 55% overall the latter of which is considered a 2nd class lower ( shit grade for annual £20,000 investment). At the end of each year as I reluctantly open my module assessment portal, and each year my self hatred is renewed just in time for the upcoming year.

The start of this year had everything riding on it. It was my last chance to make right my lack of success and intellect in the previous years. The first term went well. I actually managed to score my first above 77% in an assessment in the entire degree. To say that I was filled with elation is not a sentence I can even construct. I was over the moon. I felt so assured and proud of myself that I couldn't believe it actually happened for months afterwards. Further to my surprise the sense of joy didn't stop there.

On average throughout the term, I was on cloud nine as I scored above and beyond my expectations-even scoring a 92% on one of my assessments. Second term rolled around however, and all those wonderful marks meant very little compared to the final exam which I bombed half of them :).


Now I am in my final design project and after weeks of being assessed during feedback sessions and getting repeated low grades that 'represent' the amount of work I had done :))))))))))))), a shitty final report ( this one was more of a group effort) and another suicide attempt ( during exams).


I just feel crap :D

Still here

Above all else I'm still here.

Lol I can't be bother to go back and read everything I've ever written on here but at least I'm alive.

                     I'm panicking again. Like when I was in SS3 and had just realised I had three months until I was writing my final exams and I was farrrrr from ready. I panicked then and I'm panicking now, 4 years later. The difference being that back then, when i had individual subjects, I simply read to understand what the fuck it was about. That's it. I obviously wanted to pass my exams and get my mum off my back but I honestly just wanted to know, so I started from the utmost beginning and worked my way through. Low and behold I did well at secondary school.
                    Fast forward to my current 'predicament' - Barely passed 2nd year of Chemical Engineering and I am shaking. I have cried my tears and ignored my mum's sharp words so this panic is not from a place of pain. It's from fear. I am trying to convince myself that I can do it. That it's even possible. That i can
magically turn everything around and have this amazing result at the end of it. The main problem is that it's currently looking bleak.

                   About to enter third year and I can't even solve first year mass and energy balances. My highest grade so far has been from the year that didn't count (brilliant :)) and I am about to step into new territory that further builds on said fundamentals. It's not like i failed but I understand. I failed AND I'm still unable to grasp the 'fundamentals'. I know I am smart. I proved that to myself in secondary and A Levels. I also know that regarding this past year I actually tried. I can list some health issues that I was dealing with during this but I know my mother will only dismiss and belittle them so I won't bother listing here. 

                 I've instinctively put so much pressure on myself because I have my mum running on hot/cold in my ear, going from growling and anger to softness in the span of days. I have the growing realisation that my father isn't who he said he is and my mum and the kids need to escape ASAP - and I can't even be allowed to process that- suffocating me. 

I honestly don't know how I'm going to do it. I know even if i get hospitalised over cutting or mental breakdown my mother won't give a flying fuck so long as I get the class of degree she want. I really fear that. Like she legit won't care because she's so focused on the 'bigger picture' and she spiritual battle  she's forever hinting at - but never quite revealing. 

Couple all this shit with the fact that I actually don't know what I want to do with my life. Back when i was 16-18 people understood when I said I don't know, but now that I am about to be 20 most older opinions turn towards my degree ('like you don't know what to do? It's fine you have a good degree it doesn't matter if you don't like it, just follow this path of a masters and then magically getting a job in a field you might even despise! It sounds good enough right? :))

I am overwhelmed. 

I hate being used by my mother as a weapon against my father in hopes to hurt him ( she'll still send me to get something she wants from him)

I hate how I look

I hate my sexuality ( because I acc don't hate it and it complicates things)

I hate being so emotional 

I hate my mother assuming she knows all about me

I hate feelings like because I am about to turn 20 I need to have my life figured out and mature so fast 

I hate been made to feel guilty about my hobbies except when it's convenient for them 

I hate being me.

Why am I Awake?

Hello there.

I am currently writing this after being awake since 6pm yesterday (please no comment) so forgive the delirious rambling that will proceed this:



I have encountered many bumps in the road that if my life. I have gained even more weight almost reaching the daunting 90 kg. I can feel my childhood insecurities roaring back to the surface and now I can barely look in the mirror without a deep feeling of contempt.

It doesn't really help matters that I have been on my period non-stop since April, this is the longest I've ever gone and that fact alone terrifies me. This issue with my ovaries has been a grave problem for the past 4 to almost 5 years, but the longest I've gone on my period was 2 months now its almost 5.  I keep trying to brush it off, to get on with my daily life: school, friends, hobbies etc but the sheer reality that I may not be able to have kids suffocates me. Growing up and having a large family is not only the norm it's mandatory in my culture - especially as a female- but when I was younger I only wanted 2 kids ( cause I wanted them to be very close to make up for the major age differences between my siblings and I) and I took everything for granted believing that when i was ready all will go well. It's safe to say my life took a different turn. Ever since my problem started I've started to notice how wonderful children are: their smile, their simple yet deeply ingrained innocence, how much of a joy they are and how much I wanted to positively impact a child's life. At first I thought of adoption, but there's the possibility that the children will reject me as their mother and seek out their biological one, there's also the issue that no man in my culture would marry me just to raise another man's baby ( I'm guessing it's a form of expressing manhood by displaying the number of sons raised - daughters don't count but I digress).

I've always had the image of a perfect woman ingrained in my conscience ever since I could remember, and despite the fact that I have grown mentally mature and have educated myself on a feminists' view of beauty the image still hasn't changed. I still have my dark skin that I love, still the same height and face it's just my weight that has drastically changed. I'm suddenly 4 dress sizes down, a clear face, big boobs and I simply ooze confidence. As I became more aware I tried to change my image to fit my current body type but as soon as I do the scenario loses its appeal and it feels forced compared to its glossy daze feeling. This image didn't really help as I sunk into denial about my weight.

I used to believe that I don't stray from a particular, narrow weight range, that I was somehow eternally stagnant and that no matter the matter of Chinese and fried chicken I devoured I would somehow never gain the weight. How stupid was I? I am extremely uncomfortable with my body and I did not take gaining weight well to say the least, so I hid in my little bubble of denial and pretended all was okay. That bubble popped as soon as I found out what I really weighed.

I was at the tailors in Nigeria cause I had to adjust my dresses for my step-sister's traditional wedding. My mother had earlier -not so subtly- commented that I've gained more weight than she thought so I just knew the trip wasn't going to be pleasant, and yet my bubble hadn't yet burst. It was when I wore attempted to wear my clothes and it was a struggle to get them past my knees. I was humiliated, ashamed and disgusted at how much weight I had gained. I  basically had to have the dress remade from scratch because the difference in my old and current size was astronomical. I felt so bad that the tailors had to so much work to do in a short amount of time, and my mother's not so quiet whispers about how much weight I had gained and 'what she had done to deserve this' 'she warned me about this' drove me to the brink of tears. I struggled to keep my tears at bay . Once locked in the dressing room for the umpteenth time I allowed myself a short moment of peace and let the few tears roll down. Unfortunately that was the time my mother summons me. Once  the tailor saw me and she apologise for no reason and that's how you my mother saw me and crudely asked'Why are you crying?

You need to understand that my mother was actually unusually understanding and calm about my situation despite on previous occasions she exploded with anger due to the numerous doctor's appointments I had been to. She didn't snap at me for crying, or comment on how it was my fault I had gained weight. She was silent and kept smiling as if nothing happened, and I deeply appreciated that.


I have now set out on losing weight through rigorous dieting- seeing as my period flow increases as I exercise. I have only been eating once a day ( I know its not healthy but whatever) ever since I got back from Nigeria. I hope I'll have enough self control to maintain this commitment.

Wish me luck.

Memories turn into Memoirs

Looking back at all I've written. All that I have gone through. All that I've overcome. I'm amazed but yet heartbroken. I was way too young to have to go through these things. I grew up in a society where problems like mine were mocked and ridiculed. I taught myself to bottle up all my feelings and continue with my life because that was the only way i knew how to survive. Looking back, I'm not quite sure that was for the best. 

My eyes sting with unshed tears. My soul protests in agony. My heart no longer wishes to beat and yet a smile is forever is forever etched on my face. I am cursed for no one will know my true pain.

20th April 2016

My heart aches.




I am nearing the end of my first year in A-LEVELS and so far it has been stressful. I am always tired. Tired of life. Tired of being happy. Tired of existing. I just wish for a swift and painless death, but at the same time plan ahead for the next day.

I'm so confused.

My 'will' to live has practically evaporated and all that I'm left with is the tiny puddle of a voice that's meekly cheering me on. I'm tired of my weight. I'm tired of my body. I'm tired of my life. I'm tired of the fact that no matter how much I have hope in a relationship I always end up being disappointed.

With Victor dealing with his own problems, I've never felt so alone in my life, and I don't know how to deal with it. Sometimes in my head I just wish a therapist would appear from nowhere, diagnose me with what i already know so that people around me can finally realize how dead I am inside.

Me, Myself and I (Cont)

In my previous post there was a little part about 'That's a story for another time'



When I was younger (9 - younger) I met some people whom didn't have the nest intentions for me. At the time i didnt care who they were as long as they made me feel wanted. I did stupid things that i regret. Things that i was way too young to be involved in, and these things all have one common denominator : boys.

As i said before when i was younger i was obese - still am- but i wasnt the average ball of happiness. I had rolls, stretch marks, a fat tummy; but i also had an ass and breasts. because of these features a typical man paid more attention to me. I was young and i was foolish. I was taken advantage of by so many people without realizing,k and at the time i didnt care cause i wanted to keep being their friend.

My shitty self esteem didnt help matters .To cut the story short, i somehow managed to save myself before i went too far down the rabbit hole.

long story short:


My ovaries are fucked. I'm either on my period for months at a time or I don't see my period for months at a time. I am sick and tired of trying to fix it and seeing no results. I am overweight. I know that. I have dealt with this truth all my life and I have survived. But knowing the fact that i may not be able to have kids in future is because I'm overweight is becoming too hard to handle.

I am tired. I've reached a point where I don't care anymore.

If they spoil, then they spoil. If they decide to work again, great!!! I will rejoice. I , however, refuse to wallow in self pity over my unfortunate condition. I will cry, wipe my tears, pick myself and continue with my life. I refuse to go back to how i once was.