I was a beggar.
It’s something that I’m not really proud of, but I was that.
No, I didn’t go to the streets asking everyone I meet for some loose change nor did I knock on every door asking for pity and any amount to spare.
I was at my home, call or texting friends, former officemates, distant relatives, and even new acquaintances, if they can lend me some money so I can take my wife to her dialysis session.
And it was a recurring incident, that I honestly saw myself then as a beggar – for alms, sympathy, and even prayers. I’ve thrown away any inhibition and pride that I have for the sake of my wife.
But while I’ve accepted my fate, I didn’t want to stay with it.
I don’t care about the humiliation, the cold shoulders, the insinuations that I am an opportunist and an abusive friend, and all sorts of words thrown at me, and behind me. I don’t give a damn about what other people think. All I wanted then was for my wife not to miss any session.
And while I beg, I worked. I tried to find ways to help myself.
Sometime I got something, that could tidy us for a few days, but it’s not enough. It doesn’t provide a permanent solution.
What’s funny though, is that every time I stumbled onto something good… every time I get little successes… every time I get a little bit happier… someone would come and try to ‘put me in my proper place’
He would always make me feel that since I was miserable… I should stay miserable.
Now, I am far from the ‘beggar’ that I used to be… too far from being a success, but at least, no longer a beggar.
In my own little way, I managed to stand up, inch by inch… slowly.
Please, let me stand… let me grow… spare me from your negative outlook in life.
I was a beggar… but now, no more.
I don’t want to stay miserable… I REFUSED to stay miserable…
I am struggling, yes… but I am fighting.