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Every day, people ask if you are okay. A random stranger inside the bus pretends to care and ask if you are fine, because your palms are sweating, or your lips trembling, from your struggle with anxiety. But most of the time, no one does, its pretense.

The moment I got into the house, I wish I didn’t, they all seemed to be in a happy mood, happy for no good reason and I feared they might want me to join them and perhaps, perhaps I wouldn’t be able to, lest they notice that my spirit has given up.

‘‘Hellooooo,’’ my father greeted as he stood up to come and say hi.

I was really uncomfortable and he knew, I wasn’t up for all the happy merry, the high vibes, I wanted it low and quiet, I didn’t want anyone to recognize me.

That’s how a child grows up when their mother abandons them, it’s the only way for them to cope up, you lay low and lock up all your feelings in a cage, you become numb, because feelings are useless, humans abuse them all the time, you better not have them.

‘‘Hey pa