When I became an addict, I understood addiction.

We are all addicted to something or someone at one point in our lives. Normally when we hear of addiction we tend to think of someone hooked on some heroine or (marijuana which has seen many protest for it to be legalized, I am in support 100% because of its medicinal properties and nothing else) and the latest tramadol.
Addiction comes in various forms and it’s always about not being able to be in control of the usage of something that is beneficial or using something that was not meant for the purpose to which you are using. It could be excessive use of the internet to watch pornography, spending so much time on social media and not concentrating on what is supposed to be done, abusing over the counter drugs & narcotics, makeup or even food.

My addiction was to a particular meal that ended me up in the wrong place, and I couldn’t help myself: so before the end, I must start at the beginning.
It all happened one Sunday when I bought food from my favorite food joint where my family and I had been eating from since I was 9 years old. The taste was unmatched and as a regular as soon as I got there she would have dished out my food and hand it over. Sometimes even offer suggestions when I was contemplating on buying some for my siblings to which she would tell me they had bought theirs already. So that fateful day after enjoying a meal of Waakye and barely had I sat down when I rushed to the washroom to let some unwanted waste product down. I visited the loo three times that day and felt just weak but brush it off.
The next Sunday after church I bought my food and went home. The same pattern repeated I spent the whole of Sunday evening in the washroom: throwing up and with a very painful runny tummy. Anything I took in whether food, water or even medicine I threw it up. My mom and dad didn’t spare me their ranting since they all witnessed what had happened the previous Sunday. Early Monday morning I was carried to the hospital, I couldn’t stand up straight; I had to bend due to the excruciating pain in the stomach. I had to be put in a wheelchair to see the doctor who put me on admission for three days with drips and drugs. When I returned from my near death experience( that is what I choose to call it) because I thought I was going to die, I made a promise to myself I would never ever eat Waakye again. My friends who had had similar experience from eating from the same food joint shared their plight with me. Other friends also told me probably I ate with dirty hands (like seriously). But my mind had already being made up and I was never eating that meal. Even though I was sometimes drawn to the aroma of Waakye I would resist because if I was ever going to pass away it should be because of old age not food. My colleague at work Nana kept pushing me to try another time whenever I felt the urge to eat. I finally did give in after two whole months of being ‘Waakye clean’ but it ended badly, I had a runny tummy. According to her it was my mind that had conditioned itself to think that way so I should feel free and enjoy. Meal after meal I had a runny tummy and all the meals were good too. After two months it’s seemed some new recipe had hit town. I just couldn’t stay away and kept spotting new Waakye joints every week (typical of Waakye lovers). And I kept running but I developed a new strategy, before I ate I would swallow two capsules of colloduim to prevent an inevitable diarrhea. After that it would be weeks before I visited the washroom but as long as I was able to enjoy my Waakye in peace I was okay.
I was destroying myself just to have a full stomach. When probably there was something in the meal I was allergic to. It was during those times when I did a reflection of what I was feeding my body and decide to take a break from eating and rethink this decision. If I was ever going to eat, it had to be done the right way. And ever since I stop taking those pills I have been diarrhea free after every meal. The problem was too much pepper in the shito! (Wink)
Anybody addicted to anything know it’s bad while the point of resistance and saying NO is one of the most difficult decisions to ever make. So just maybe when you try talking your friend out of that toxic relationship or a negative attitude/ behavior know that it’s not an easy path to break from. Just as the adage “it’s easier said than done” or probably you may be in that situation and finding it hard to come out, remember it takes time and a determined mind with gentle baby steps not a giant leap to freedom. And most definitely that flash moment of realization.

Comments

Recommended For You

I Cut My Hair Because I Was Heartbroken and Depressed.

Growing up, it was the norm to keep your Afro textured hair (commonly known as natural hair) growing to a volume so you add hair relaxers to make it easy to comb and style. Keeping your hair natural wasn't really accepted until recently when the ‘am a natural girl’ wave blew over and young girls began to embrace their hair type. I for one never wanted to add chemicals or even do braids or add hair extensions. Though I would admire ladies rocking their hair styles my wish was to keep a low cut hair. But the words of my big sister stuck with me on that day; right after completing high school about five years ago, I asked her if it was really necessary to keep my hair, she told me that soon I would be entering the University and with my low cut, my colleagues would regard me as a child and might not respect me or will risk not getting a boyfriend. Well that reason was a big deal to me so I discarded my idea of keeping a low cut hair and jumped onto the wagon of ‘perpetual su

Keep Reading »

The Ga Kenkey Myth

If you are a Ghanaian and not a Ga, you might have heard this statement ‘eat more Ga kenkey if you want to learn how to speak Ga”. I was about 8 years old when I heard this statement. That was the time my family had just relocated to Accra from Offinso. We happened to find ourselves in one of the Ga speaking communities, and as newcomers to the community, we always had to battle with the language whether in school, church, asking for direction or even buying something on the streets. As a little child, I needed to keep up with my new friends since I always got lost in a lovely conversation on our way to or from school. Whenever there was an open conversation, the only way of telling was by their responses, gesticulations of laughter or anger, nods, and shrugs. It was so distressing, and I needed a way out, but guess what? I didn’t want to ask them to teach me. I sought to portray an attitude of a smart girl and secretly learn the language and surprise them. As

Keep Reading »

Fulfilling A Long Time Wish In A New Year

4 th January, 2018 This is the fourth day in the New Year and it’s a Thursday and am at work sitting behind my laptop and typing just to talk about my expectations. It has always been a culture or maybe a tradition to go to church on new year’s eve in Ghana, I wonder if it so across the world because all I see in movies is people partying the night away and lighting fireworks when the new-year arrives. As a child I never had any concerns about New Year’s Eve but then as am an adult now I think we over-emphasize and over prioritize it. I recall one time our parents had to leave my two siblings; one older and one younger than I to Kumasi in the care of our older cousin.On New Year’s Eve I expected her to take us to church but hey she said we were staying at home. I couldn't believe my ears because this had become the tradition every year and here she was saying we couldn't go. Well I was a teenage then so i had to no option than to sleep. After spending the night on my s

Keep Reading »

Never Report Your Abusive Husband to The Police

I have never been married but I am hoping to be a wif e someday. I believe in love and the union of marriage as an everlasting journey with its sweet and sour moments but when that sour ness b ecome s a bitter tree of a buse , one must walk out. Today’s post is a bout a man I had a lengthy c onversation with on m y way home from the Accra Mall, a fter a long day of making sales during the Social Media Week. It started with Ghc2 The conversa tion began when the ‘mate ʼ ( bus conductor) asked for his fare and he se arched for his money but eventually, couldn’t find it. I glanced at him and looked out of the window to enj oy the cool breeze of the wind on my face. (*trying to mind my business * ) “I had a GH Cedis 2 note in my hand before I boarded this bus but I’m sure I might have lost it thinking it was rubbish” ….. he blurted out.... I turned to face him and grinned with a sigh. He begun ranting about how hard the economy had become but still

Keep Reading »

The Bitter Milk

Childhood is considered the best part of one’s life. It is during such a period where we learn and stick to certain good and bad habits. The memories of such moments that flash in our minds always bring smiles on our faces. One of such bad habit which I never outgrew out of was milk sipping. Show me a millennial who never loved milk and I would show you my 101 year old granny who is a social media addict. The act of milk sipping was a timely process. Usually in the mornings when mother made breakfast which needed milk, I would dream of how to get a raw taste of the remaining contents on my tongue. How I would yearn to take a trip to the refrigerator and take a sip. As I grew up I loathed all milk based breakfast and put a break on that habit. As I somewhat realize breakfast shouldn't always be beverage or cereal based but the more Ghanaian type especially Waakye. Fast forward to 16th February, 2018 after returning home from work and decided to get some cold water to quench

Keep Reading »

Memoirs & Reality

Search This Blog