For Lisa Brown– an over-feeler like us

“I used to be so sure of this, only to keep finding out that I am forgettable even with all of my good intentions.”

Photo by MART PRODUCTION

“I know I am not good enough, but some people will never forget me in their life.” 

Lisa Brown’s response to this was, “I used to be so sure of this, only to keep finding out that I am forgettable even with all of my good intentions.” 

Lisa Brown was a beautiful, dark-skinned girl with eyes that glowed like the full moon. Nobody would know that she was struggling mentally with the world and her mind. She had dreams, felt too much, saw too much, and was so beautiful.

I heard the news on Tuesday when she captioned her bio saying, “I was born on a Tuesday, and today’s a Tuesday. It feels like a good day to end it all.”

Lisa unalived herself by hanging. It’s so painful. It’s so painful. Yet it is also brave to end it all because if we take out the repercussions it has on those we leave behind, the faith of our religion, and the stigma that comes with unaliving yourself, it seems like the only to make it stop.

Lisa was an over-feeler like me, like us, like many daughters of African homes who struggle with a lot of unhealed wounds our parents gave us, or our generational traumas passed down to us. 

Someone in your lineage possibly had the same struggles as you do. Struggles with love, money, living, and pains—getting glimpses of joy here and there but only momentarily. 

I feel for Lisa, I will always remember her as that brave soul who tried. She always put her struggles out there for us to see but we never listened deep enough. It might have been termed another, “Gen Z kid with mental health problems.” It is what we are called by many. We feel too much, we analyze too much we demand too much.

My pain

We had light issues all through last week and the nepa man just kept demanding. Bring 5k, 10k, 7k. With each demand he expected us to kiss his feet for doing his job. I saw my mother attempt to do it by changing her voice to speak softly to him and he kept raising his voice. 

Finally, he came inside to fix the code in our meter box and saw me sitting in all my glory with my skimpy boxers and singlet showing my skin and all with fake lashes and fat arms. I know what image that gives a typical Nigerian man. Fear, then shock, before they attempt to shame you.

His shock was visible. I didn’t greet him because what my mother was doing was getting on my nerves. His loud mouth ceased, as he saw me. I looked him straight in the eye and didn’t lift a leg, I was waiting for him to talk and I will demand accountability for the transfers I have been making from my account. Thanks to my mother’s need to pander to Nigerian male service providers.

I say male because I have seen my mother bare her fangs when it is a woman to a woman trying to cheat her or not do their work.

These are all part of the traumas I am talking about. I called her out on the behaviour countlessly. She would say, “Men don’t have it easy.” Mommy, I am your first daughter taking the role meant for the man you chose. The role he is supposed to take, yet you say men don’t have it easy?

Lisa’s story was similar.

There were times I thought of crossing the road recklessly, so a car hit me from nowhere and I felt peace from the expectations and responsibilities. I did not choose it but I wear it well.

I over-feel and somehow when I find a partner who just wants to love me, I see myself heavily pouring all my burdens on them.

It becomes too much and before you know it they ask for space. Space that only widens. I almost expect it now. I find myself asking them, “I hope I am not too much for you?” I ask this so much and they lie. But I can feel it, I sense it and I sense the withdrawal. I am then termed another Gen Z kid with mental health issues.

I understand them because as an empath I can put myself in their shoes and see that, I can be intense. I can be too much, so I fear. I do not know if I should keep these parts of me safe and unknown forever. But that is struggling alone despite having someone, which isn’t nice.

My sadness, my weight, and my expectations spoil everything. I only have numerous things I want to talk about. Only I fight with the fear looming—that soon they will ask for space. And space becomes a goodbye forever.

However, I thank them for trying their best.

Lisa Brown, I will remember you for the good intentions you had, for the beauty in our shared experiences, and the bravery to leave it all. I cannot judge you because on some days it is too much and nothing helps. On some days you cry from the grief inside you asking what wrong did you commit, to come from a place with so much baggage.

On some days, you are so scared of the thoughts that come to your head. Yet, your partner would say, “Just think positively, breathe, don’t cry, and challenge your mind to be fine with or without people.” You laugh. If only there was a switch. If only you’ve not seen this movie before and know the ending isn’t one you like.

I have lost so many friends this year, now I feel like I must live a full life for my friends.  Lummi died from an abusive marriage in April. Liver problems took Grace, the others I just heard. It makes me numb on many days. 

People say unaliving yourself is never an option. I believe them. However, I cannot pretend that the positivity people offer on some days is faux and empty. They just say these words. What would help would be acknowledging it is hard and sitting with people in their grief. Just sit with me and listen. Just sit and hold my hands. Be strong enough so my sadness doesn’t break your heart. 

I know Jesus, don’t sell him to me either. Since you know him well, genuinely pray that I may know him for myself in a way that’s so loud and doesn’t leave any doubt. They say the enemy's voice is loud, but we should train our minds to hear the whispers of God.

And I say why will a God so mighty whisper and the enemy is loud? Why will a father see the son listening to a snake and be whispering, “Come this way, son.” Isn’t his voice as loud as thunder again? Why can’t he echo so loud? Why did he not echo his love for Lisa Brown? Why must I perform so much for him to bless me and ease my burdens?

I hope one day all the questions I have concerning faith are answered. Until then, every day I will live. I will live to see Scotland as Lummi wanted, to find a love that never gets tired as Lisa wanted, to choose God and know I chose him as Grace wanted. 

To my fellow over-feelers, the only way out is to feel everything. Feel it and cry. Find a random stranger who won’t judge you or give you pity eyes and share as much as you can. Lol. It’ll be so weird but it works tbh. That way nobody is checking up on you every minute and you are not burdened by the guilt of making someone worry.

Finally, write it and put it in a random place you don’t think about often. I use one horror book, and when I open it I am like oh, I felt like this. I laugh it off.

Feelings are a lot, and emotions are a lot, in a society where nonchalant and cutting people off has become a norm, you feel like an alien with three heads for being an over-feeler. Don’t worry you are not alone. Take joy in the fact that when happiness hits you, you feel it fully as well.

To Lisa Brown, wherever your soul may be now, I hope it is quiet and peaceful. Today is All Saints Day and tomorrow is All Souls Day in the Catholic church. Do pray if you can for those in pains that seem endless. I wish you a wonderful November. Choose a theme and practice it. For me it is silence on the media and in real life.

Love,

An over-feeler babe.

---