Beyond the bottle; A queen's journey

As the liquor burns its way down my throat. I wince.

But I continue chugging it down anyway.

"Ohemaa!!!" 

My mother's sharp voice carries through the wind till it gets to my hideout.

I wipe my lips quickly. Popping a mint into my mouth as i straighten up.

She won't even notice that my steps are a bit sluggish as i make my way to her.

she's too harried trying to manage her little liquor shop and her tiny eatery while her husband burns all her money on odious betting schemes. 

"Ma, i'm coming!!"

I will help her throughout the night and then I will be bright eyed and bushy tailed tomorrow morning for my 3 month long internship with Dr. Arkoh. 

My mother didn't understand why "with all your brains you could have been a proper doctor but you want to deal with mad people. eh?"

I didn't understand it myself but the desire burned within me. To help someone else. to give them hope .

Especially in a world where people who were going through things were kicked down by those around them.

But once I spoke to her of the prospects and I got the scholarship to pursue my masters , she was put at rest, if only slightly. 

The next morning by 8am I am already in the building.

I greet the receptionist and head to the second floor where my pseudo office is.

Dr. Arkoh is already there. Tall , handsome and intelligent. Too bad he's already married to his sweetheart . 

I laugh to myself as I give him a warm greeting. Oh if only he knew what I was thinking.

I sit at my little desk in the corner and soon the day begins

Case after case come to see the psychologist. Different type of people, single , married, fearful, proud, young, old.

The more I watch him interact with them based on what they tell him and how they present themselves; the more inspired i feel.

Could this be me in a few years?

At the end of the day we sit to have a review session and I think about the events of the past two months.

Even though some days are more tedious than others, I'm glad for this opportunity and I can't wait to have a chance to make a difference in the world.

It's hours later and I'm back at home 

but 

I can't sleep

My hands twitch every few seconds.

There's a bottle hidden behind my wardrobe that I took from mummy's failing shop.

It's out of sight but i swear can smell it from here.

I shouldn't have kept it there.

As I lay on my bed weighing the pros and cons, the shouting begins

Mummy's husband shouts about something or the other.

He shouts until my throat feels hoarse just hearing him. 

My mother cries. I hate it when she cries. It makes me angry 

She cries and cries and keeps crying.

I get off my bed and go for the bottle. 

I drink till I can hear nothing else.

I wake up with a start and then the pounding headache follows.

I'm slowly able to get myself to the bathroom. Red rimmed eyes and an ashy face look back at me from the mirror.

I don't even recognize the girl I see.

Minutes later, something strikes me as unusual.

I don't hear my mother singing as she cleans around the house.

Everything comes rushing back to me. 

I run to her room.

My mother isn't there

but that questionable man is.

"Where is my mother?!"

"Hospital?!"

"Excuse me?"

he shrugs me off and continues watching his football match.

The amount of hatred that rushes through me almost makes me unsteady on my feet.

or maybe it's still the hangover.

I am no match for this man's 6 foot 1 height but if my mother doesn't come home alive, his blood will be on my hands.

Disconcerted,

I rush back to my room. Unsure of what to do.

A nauseated feeling engulfs me as I grab my phone to call somebody, anybody.

And that's when I see the missed calls

30 of them

all from last night through to this morning

when I was too drunk to feel anything

my hands shake as I call my aunt back

Auntie Enam always did have a way with words and she calls me all sort of things from a sea witch to the devil's favorite assistant.

My ears sting from the insults she has thrown my way

but my mother is alive. I thank God for that.

I sink to the ground and hang up without letting her finish talking.

My hands are still shaking

tears are running down my cheeks

my mother could have died.

and all I did was sleep on.

I go to the bathroom

the drinks

I have to stop

I'm better than this 

but just like clockwork, the little voice pipes up

"you've tried to stop before. what makes you think this time will be better"

It has to be better. I almost lost my mom

"Don't even waste your time"

I won't give up

"you should"

A heavy darkness engulfs my mind and I find the doubts screaming even louder.

Who do I think I am?

what makes me think I'm special.

How can I be a psychologist if I can't even help myself?

I deserve this.

I deserve to be punished for my weakness.

I'm a monster.

I'm a failure.

Tears trail down my face as I walk towards my wardrobe.

It's as if I'm being controlled. 

I don't want to drink

I don't want to do it.

but I do

soon enough I sit around four empty bottles with 

my head feeling fuzzy, my tongue feeling heavy

and self hatred blossoming up in my chest.

                                             xx

"when Dr. Arkoh found me, I had been lying in a drunken stupor for two days straight.

My mother's husband had ran away. He didn't even have the courtesy to lock the door.

Some thieves came in and were able to make away with our television and refrigerator and many many other things. 

I was insensible and drenched in urine and vomit.

But he took me to the hospital and his sweet wife who I was initially envious of, nursed me to health like she would her own child.

Finally when I got back to my senses, I grabbed him like a drowning man

I want to stop. Please help me"

Ohemaa paused her narration to look at her audience "or at least that's what he said. I don't really remember"

The crowd of twenty-somethings all laughed.

She shrugged and then continued her story

"3 days later my mom and aunt arrived from the hospital;

the house was half bare and I was still having tremors from substance withdrawal.

When my mother saw me, she burst into tears from her wheelchair and it moved me so much that I promised myself that I would do better.

We turned the liquor store into a provisions store which was more lucrative...."

a raised hand distracted her.

It was a young girl " And what about the alcohol. did you drink again?"

Ohemaa nodded " Yes, I messed up a lot of more times. " She laughed. "Were you thinking that I was suddenly fine? No

I battled the addiction for a long time but it didn't consume me; little by little, I found myself on the path of freedom ."

Ohemaa smiled at the audience. " I used to hate my name because it means "queen" where I'm from. What sort of queen goes back repeatedly to what destroys her?"

she took in a deep breath " But if God could bring the Arkoh family my way to help me, then maybe he brought me here to help someone. If I could recover then you can recover too. "

She looked over at the crowd, knowing that there could be someone who was being swallowed up by a weakness . Someone who had to hear what she was saying '' Don't let the darkness consume you. Reach out towards the light. Thank you for your time"

She smiled as she walked off the Podium.

She had work to go back to and after work she was going for dinner with her husband to celebrate.

She had been sober for 5 years.