Of Personal Space and Problems only Melancholics Understand

Remember that time before your parent brought home your younger sibling and you were all excited only to go all 'what the fishcakes was I thinking' a few months later? Yes?

Good.

Because after 21 years I finally relate to what you are feeling.

No, my mama dearest is not bringing home a tiny screaming baby so all of you who know my family can keep your ducks in a row.

But. I am faced with the prospect of needing to open the high steel gates of my personal space so as to take in a guest who may just be cohabiting with me for a while.

And yes, I am terrified. Very terrified.

Why? Before you go calling me a mean little brat, understand one thing. I am that kid who had her own room from the time she was 8. Seeing as my only sibling is much much older and I grew up in a suburb sort of in the middle of nowhere overlooking the majestic Ngong Hills without many kids my age to interact with at home, I sort of morphed into the typical melancholic. I can be super moody, like I go from happy to dull in less than 0.5 seconds and at times I am the annoying perfectionist especially when it comes to matters I am confident of my knowledge in. I am terribly choosy and sometimes it is difficult to please me. Infact my reputation could be summarized in one word 'bitch' if I hadnt learnt to be quiet if I can't say anything nice and if I didn't like being sweet to people.Most importantly however, I am not a people person. At all.  Like the typical mel, new people sort of drain my energy. In fact I would rather be in my warm bed in pyjamas and messy hair than out in the world. If I am to 'do people' they have to be those chosen few who have seen me at my sweetest,ratchet-est (because every girl has that side) and brattiest and still insist on associating with me-aka my ride or dies.

So you can only imagine how I feel about home. My lair. It is where I re-energize because it is in this place that I escape all the insanity that is out there. It is at home where I can roam in over size pyjamas, go all Beyonce in front of the mirror and just chill. And the number one reason I love home? The fact that I get to enjoy lots of personal space without worrying about stepping on the toes of someone else because as much as people drain me, I do hate conflict. And this whole story of inviting a stranger just gives me shivers because typical melancholics need a 'no new friends' environment to be lazy and get their creative juices flowing. FYI if suddenly I become dormant, just know it might be because I have no lair where my body and energy feels free. Also that explains how my home situation should be of concern to you dear reader.

On to another point. The funny thing is I always had this fantasy about having a mini me. Someone around to sort of mentor and keep from making the same mistakes I made. In fact so strong was my desire I had sort of tried being on the lookout for a nice little random younger friend who seemed open to being friends with this mess here. But when I got wind of this idea of having a stranger co-habit with us for a while, I went all like, why was I praying for this??

I don't know maybe it is just me who is majorly over-thinking this but I am so not f......ng ready to be a role model. Literally I am this beautiful mess and I can't imagine myself taking the role of showing someone the ropes of how to or not to live. Like I can barely keep it together myself, I can't bear the thought of having someone watching trying to learn a thing or two from me;if at all there is anything worth emulating.  I am the typical last born, I delight in imperfection(hence the reason I showed how not flawless I am in an earlier paragraph). I believe the whole role model thing is for the leaders... The older siblings. Not me. I am that one that was born to do something dumb yet awesome that would make the parent console themselves that at least they have one good kid. That is until they realize how amazing and out of the box my path is. And being a role model is for the leaders, not the followers.

After all this venting though, I know that at the end of the day, I can't run away from life. And maybe it was planned that at a time when M just wants to hide from the world, life would happen and she would have to open up the doors and accommodate a beautiful stranger. So I will try to put my melancholic fears away and just see where all this will take me.

Is there anyone out there who has similar melancholic type problems? It would be nice to know I am not alone. Or just plain weird.