Jacklin of all trades

Good day, lovelies. Dennessawrites is 3. Whoopwhoop!!! Today let's talk about Jacklin of trades, this topic won me first position in a writing room full of amazing minds, but I guess heart trumps imaginative prowess sometimes.

Since we could understand, we were rated by achievements. High honor bestowed on those with the most feats. A tag-line of derogation followed those with the least. For those in between, pressure mounted, for in the in between, a glass is never half-full, its rather near empty. So I fought not to be looked down on, to never be glossed over, to be an achiever but more than anyone else, I seemed to fail myself.

I was once a biochemist, but I was not the best there was. I dabbled with photography and I was not the best at it too. So I looked after children, ten and below, there I blossomed, but like it is with human nature, I wanted more. 

I became an Environmental manager and then tragedy befell the earth. So I began to write from the confines of my room, I hoped to reach the people I could no longer hold or touch in person. I became a Blogger. I inspired people. When the lockdown came to an end people's lives went back to normalcy and traffic reduced on the blog, there I was again in the in between. 

Months passed and I didn't know who I was anymore, so I reeled into a place of quiet oblivion. Friends grew, I didn't seem to, people came and left, I didn't.  Home became a place I ran away from and not to. Sooner than later life's goings-on kept me from worrying. I had become who I feared the most, not in the in between, but the one with least achievements in my peer group. 

Depression took his hold on me, I let him. My dad fought to reclaim me, he failed. My mom prayed for me, held interventions and cried at my bed, but my dalliance with depression was something I enjoyed, so I held on to it.

Vices? I tried a couple, they helped me. I enjoyed the numbness. I stayed there with them, they became my adhesive to this world, the only reason I seemed to remain grounded. 

Demons? I had some. We fellowshiped, day and night. My friends, we had an unspoken bond, they came uninvited, I accommodated them. Allies? I had a few, didn't they notice? They did. Didn't they reach out? They did. I didn't reach back. 

I wallowed. I drowned. I dowsed myself in negativity. Baptized fully, I emerged a melancholic woman. Denise, daddy called to me one day. "You're not without help". These words struck a chord in me, which one? I didn't know. Faith? I tried. But being who I am, I gave up on that too. But isn't that the beauty of things, faith found me in my melancholy and for the first time in a long while, I reached out. 

Now? I've taken in my experiences, I put them in my treasure box. What have my experiences taught me? I'll leave you with a saying, a Jack of all trades is a máster of none but often better than a máster of one.

Treasure your experiences, they, more often than not, build resistance, character, and make you well-rounded or versatile. Tell me about your last three years if you would, in the comment section.