Control isn’t just a word to rhyme in poetry class. It’s the pattern that pragmates the cervixes of life. I knew how to breath, eat by listening to the voices that scream the loudest when my soul is reeling in unfathomable silence;
“Nya ébok rà this is what you should do”
I’m not used to the uncertainty that taints my own voice, or the scent of naivety that trails my skin. I’ve been told I’m too wayward, addicted to carelessness like it was heroine. Control is the word associated with power, they said,
Nya ébok rà, control will keep you strong, even if it’s just a bubble of illusion that distorts perception.
There are daddy issues interwoven in mummy issues interwoven in life issues. It’s not like me to leave things alone and freedom is like the stars I sleep under every fortnight so I could dream in bright white light. When the last piece of me broke away, I ran up the a mountain, pointed my forefinger to the air and screamed,
It takes a lot to admit I have a problem. It’s not exactly a habit. I doubt it’s as easy as quitting sugar cravings, perhaps everyone struggles this at some point. I may have written about this previously in subtext. Hi, my name is Idara-abasi and I’m a control addict.
I guess this stems from my family again, with one parental figure showing authority society-wise and the other being an average joe . Naturally I didn’t want to be average. I wanted it all. When I don’t get the recognition, and ascertainment I need, that can be an ego trip.
I’m smart enough to know that control is a delusion, on the other hand, I just can’t shut down my radar, smoke weed, and listen to, “Don’t worry be happy” . Though I throw fits when life plans go wary, I eventually swallow a big nasty pill and introspect. There is always a nugget of wisdom hidden somewhere.
I made these plans to move to Austria, learn deutsch, take the language exam before easter and land a job. Naturally, I knew I wouldn’t be allowed to start residency right away, that’s why I was hoping to work as student practitioner, till I acquired the medical license. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but after researching, emailing administrators of the Austrian Medical chambers, I realised it is near damn impossible.
I resorted to whining like a 3 year old whose had his candy stolen. For weeks I rummaged in the sea of uncertainty, I was reliving my greatest fear of losing control. It’s medical school all over. Despite that, two words kept fluttering through my inner ear, “Have faith”.
Yesterday, as I was deliberating which pieces of the puzzle were salvageable, what part of the plan is resuscitable, I had an epiphany.
To envy someone who seemingly has control over his affairs is as meaningless as the current administration in Nigeria. Disaster can strike at any miscalculated moment. Even though I could somehow control my life, I could never get a grip of my surrounding.
Words of wisdom
Psalm 37 verses 23, 24, 40 is exactly what I needed. If God brought me out of medical school, there is no doubt in my mind that he will not do it again. Faith and trust may be the virtues I’m getting schooled on right now, but I think I’m only going to get a C-minus.
It’s hard and I sometimes forget. But the one thing I know is, I will get to where I need to be, most likely not in Austria, not that I’m abandoning the project, I am simply choosing to relinquishing control.