Of Cherophobia and Long Distance Relationships with Happiness

Where I come from, 24 hours power supply is something of an urban myth. In the toxic relationship we have with our power supply companies, power is given so irregularly and inconsistently that when it does last for longer than six hours at a stretch, we go into panic mode.

Why is there still light?

This one they are giving us three days worth of electricity in a day, are we safe?

They should please take it and bring it at night o. E better for me say light dey for night

We get so wrapped up in the expected consequences of prolonged power supply that we don’t stop to enjoy the present situation of having power. When the light does go off, there is this unaddressed and unfortunate rightness that settles on us.

We knew it would happen and it did. The extra hours were just a smokescreen.

That is exactly how it is to have cherophobia

With cherophobia, you learn early that happiness is a mirage; a visitor that never overstays its welcome. It comes when you least expect it and just when you are getting used to it, it stands, doffs its hat, and hurries out the door. You know this routine so well. You have experienced it countless times. So each time happiness does make an entrance into your life, you regard it with squinted eyes. You scrutinize and question its intentions and permanence.

With cherophobia, realism equates to embracing and accepting the worst possible reality. It’s safer to do so. That way when the bad comes, it doesn’t hurt as much. Hoping for happiness makes the fall vertiginous and the disappointment more galling.

Sadness has and will always be your old friend, the reality that seems less scary. A sliver of happiness at the end of the tunnel seems scarier than the tunnel itself. Why? Because you know the sky is always calmest before a storm and moments of great sadness are…