The disease called 'Perfection'

Thanks to a good friend, a link that has encompassed my thoughts about life, was channeled my way, and I saw it best fit to share this with you.  I have opted to Kenyanize it a little bit. I will avail the link in the tail-end of the read, so that you get to see the original version, . It is lengthy,but the message is short!!

What is the disease called ”Perfection”? We live in communities where people feel unconquerable amounts of pressure to always appear perfectly happy, perfectly functional, and perfectly figured out...sounds familiar, doesn't it...see below examples!!

“Perfection” is a lady who feels trapped in a marriage/relationship to a lazy, angry, arrogant man, but at chama meetings tells the other ladies how wonderful her husband always is. “Perfection” keeps people from telling the truth, even to themselves. My husband/ boyfriend is adorable. He called me a whore this week because I smiled at a stranger. When I started crying, he said he had a game to go watch. I love him so much...hmm....
“Perfection” is a man who is belittled, unappreciated, and abused by his wife/ girlfriend, yet works endlessly to make his marriage/relationship appear incredible to those around him- EGO GALORE!!. ”Perfection” really does keep people from being real about the truth.  You would have laughed, guys. She said that I suck at my job and will never go anywhere in life. Then she insinuated that I was a stupid, rotting pile of crap. Isn't she the best? 

“Perfection” makes us believe that nobody else could understand what it is like to be weak and fall prey to the pressures of the world.

“Perfection” is a couple drowning in debt, a young couple starting to date, but who still agree to that trip to Naivasha with their friends because the words “we don’t have the money” are impossible ones to push across their lips.
“Perfection” is a mom/ girlfriend hating herself because she only sees that every other mom/girlfriend around her is the perfect mother/GF, the perfect wife, and the perfect neighbor. I’d give anything to be Mama Nani... Today she ran for 1 hour, hosted a birthday party, went to a chama, and still leads the church choir. What you know not, is that Mama Nanii is also at home crying right now because the pressure to be “Perfect” never lets up.
“Perfection” is a man hating himself because he can’t give the same thing to his kids/or lady that other men do, and then hates himself further because he takes his self-loathing out on his kids behind closed doors. You know what would have been nice? If you were never born, if I never met you. Do you realize how much money I’d have right now? Now come give Daddy a hug because I can force you to give me validation.

“Perfection” is a child hating herself because the boys at school call her fat, dark, skinny etc... and when she goes home she tells her mom that school was fine. Her mom never stops to question why her daughter doesn't have any friends, because her mom doesn't want to think that anything might be less than “Perfect”.
“Perfection” is a man feeling like a smaller man because his neighbor pulled in with a new car...
“Perfection” is a woman who is so overwhelmed that she thinks about killing herself daily. “Perfection” makes it so that she never will because of the things people will think if she does. How could I make my suicide look like an accident? If I kill myself, I don’t want anybody knowing that I ever had any problems. She never stops to look at why she wants to do it, because healing means admitting imperfection.
“Perfection” is a man who everybody heralds as perfect, and inside he is screaming to be seen as the faulty human being that he always has been. Because to no longer be “the perfect one”, that would be freeing.
“Perfection” is a man/woman  having an affair because  he's/she’s too afraid to confront the imperfection in her marriage.
“Perfection” is a twelve-year-old boy killing himself because he is ashamed that he can’t pass exams or, running away from KCSE, because he has been told to remove nail-polish...My-nail-polish-comes-before-exams (read link)
Stop, and read that one again.

“Perfection” is my friend’s cousin, fellow student, or dear friend, swallowing hundreds of pills because she just got the news that she was pregnant, out of wedlock, and the shame was too much to bear. She was only attempting to cause a miscarriage. 24 hours later, she closed her eyes and never opened them again. She is dead because of the “Perfection” infecting those around her. We’d rather you die than shame this family. Thanks for taking care of that, honey. By the way, we’ll do the right thing and make ourselves out to be the victims now. We have to. We’re infected with “Perfection”.
"Perfection" is man opting not question the recent hike in matatu prices, simply because he is wearing a suit, and does not want the ladies to think he is cheap.
"Perfection" is man, going all out, to borrow money and impress a lady, simply because he does not want the lady to know, that he is working up his financial growth in life.
"Perfection" is a man killing his family, simply because he cannot admit that he is emotionally in distraught, and would need help.
"Perfection" is a lady pretending to go to church, only to.....well, feel free to fill that in!!
I could go on. This is all a small sampling of the disease called “Perfection”. You have brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, extended family members, neighbors, friends, and children who are ALL these things, yet none of us will ever know. “Perfection” is a hideous monster with a really beautiful face. And chances are you’re infected. The good news is, there is a cure.
Be real.
Embrace that you have weakness. Because everybody does. Embrace that your body is not perfect. Because nobody’s is. Embrace that you have things you can’t control. We all have a list of them.
Here’s your wake-up call:
You aren't the only one who feels worthless sometimes.
You aren't the only one who took your frustrations out on your children, wife, employees today.
You aren't the only one who isn't making enough money to support your lifestyle.
You aren't the only one who has questions and doubts about your religion.
You aren't the only one who sometimes says things that really hurt other people.
You aren't the only one who feels trapped in your marriage or relationship.
You aren't the only one who gets down and hates yourself and you can’t figure out why.
You aren't the only one who hates your body. YEP, YOU ARE NOT!!!
You aren't the only one who wishes you were paid more, wishes your boss was dead...
You aren't the only one who cannot afford the latest trend in fashion...
You aren't the only one to fail in pursuit of a chic....MAN UP!!
Your wife is not the only wife that is mean and vindictive and makes you hate yourself.

Why didn't somebody, anybody, tell a beautiful pregnant girl that there was nothing so big in life that it couldn't be made right. Maybe that incredible young woman would still be alive. Maybe her now one-year-old child would be learning to walk or say “Mommy” right now. Maybe.
Maybe.
The cure is so simple.
Be real...never said it is magical though!!

Be bold about your weaknesses and you will change people’s lives. Be honest about who you actually are, and others will begin to be their actual selves around you. Once you cure yourself of the disease, others will come to you, asking if they can just “talk”. People are desperate to talk. Some of the most “perfect” people around you will tell you of some of the greatest struggles going on. Some of the most “perfect” people around you will break down in tears as they tell you how difficult life is for them. Turns out some of the most “perfect” people around us are human beings after all, and are dying to talk to another human being about it.
You’ll love them for it. And you’ll love yourself even more.
Let’s not forget this quote: “I went out to find a friend and could not find one there. I went out to be a friend, and friends were everywhere.” Somebody who is being a friend doesn’t spread “Perfection”. Somebody who is being a friend spreads “Real”. Then, and only then, can we all grow together.

I am not perfect, nor do I want anybody to think of me as such. Here’s my dose of real:
I once told my mother she loved me not and that I am not her son.I made her cry. Every thought of that, tears my heart apart.
I do not like loosing, well, and would get pissed at it, whenever it does happen..yet I seek to marry reality, and realize, that you can never win them all. (working on it)
I once wished death upon myself, and started to have suicidal thoughts.
The list would go on and on...but good thing is, I am curing myself from this disease!!
What about you...
God never expects perfection from us, that is why he leaves room for repentance!!

Will you help me spread “Real”? 
Original Link Single Dad- Disease Called Perfection!!

A Boy Named Roy

A worthy cause, and total value of your time. Let us stand united, and recall that what we have, is never too small, to have a huge impact in someone else's life.

When I was a child, my mother told me my name meant “warrior king”. In times when it really shouldn't have mattered, and I’d run out of things to believe in myself for, I’d remind myself what my name meant and pick myself up by my boots and go out and fight for what was mine. But as I grew older, that just became a façade.

There is a boy out there, however, whose name does mean ‘King’. His name is Roy, and I’m not sure anyone has ever had to tell him what his name meant for him to act accordingly. But now more than ever, I feel he needs to know he is a king.

Roy, as a child was one of the humblest and most responsible children I've had the pleasure of encountering. He grew up into a very hard working student and wanted the best and nothing else. He worked for it, he earned it. He grew up knowing his grades would lead to his success.

In Standard 5 (or 5th Grade for the rest of you among us), he had to be taken out of school to receive treatment. He was hospitalized for a while. When he got out, unlike the rest of us who at that age would've stayed him to enjoy sick leave, he went straight back to class. He did everything to catch up. He was happy in school.

Unfortunately he would fall sick again. And again. And again. And it almost became a regular thing that he’d be in hospital with different doctors dishing out different diagnoses each more severe than the last.

I was gravely concerned but every time I saw this kid he maintained calm composure and insisted that as soon as he got out of hospital it was straight back to school.

One such time was right before his KCPE exams in 2009. He had been hospitalized for several months that year, and nobody thought it was wise for him to sit his exams. He didn't care. He didn't want to be pitied. He just studied harder. Right before the papers, he was unwell again and doctors were still throwing darts into the darkness as to what exactly his ailment was. He sat his exams in pain, and I was scared.

I was scared because he insisted that he wanted to go to the best boys’ high school in Kenya, Alliance High School. It’s not easy to get accepted. You don’t just have to pass, you have to be in the top 1% or something.

Knowing how huge an impact school has on him, I worried his absence from class would inevitably affect his performance and that his depression would hinder his recovery. I worried that, for the first time in this boy’s life, he would fail and would never recover from that. He didn't seem worried. In pain, yes. But worried, not much. He held on to his dream.

And it came true. He passed. Extremely well. And strolled through the doors of Alliance High School the next year.

But he was still being pulled out of school for one medical reason or another. Abdominal pains mostly. He had surgery several times. He got his gall bladder removed. His appendix too. The pain didn’t stop. Even then, with worsening pain, as soon as he’d recovered from the surgery or treatment, he told his mother he needed to go back to school immediately.

But the pain has been crippling and the misdiagnoses may have only made it worse.

Finally, a few weeks ago some of the docs at Aga Khan figured out what it was: there was an intussusception in the small bowel. The cheapest place they can get the surgery done is India, but after 6 years of surgeries and hospital fees, the family can’t afford it.

His mother is just as humble as he is. She asked ever so kindly if we could chip in some money in such a way that I thought his condition could not have been so bad based on her tone.

I googled it and was shocked.

To save you reading a whole lot of medical jargon, an intussusception is basically like when you take a telescope and collapse it into itself. Except with your intestine. I’ll copy paste what is said about the treatment:

“The outlook for intussusception is excellent when treated quickly, but when untreated it can lead to death within 2–5 days. Fast treatment is a necessity[...]“

This boy’s been fighting it for years. Roy still has a chance to live. Roy still has a chance to make it and achieve his dream. Roy has been fighting his whole life to be the king he knows he should be, even though for the past 6 years, he’s constantly been hospitalized. Roy is stronger than most people I know and if anyone deserves a fighting chance, it is him. But he can no longer fight for himself.

So I come to you, dear readers, to help give him a fighting chance. The family needs to raise 3 million. They’re trying as best they can on their end. We’re also going to do what we can on our end. How can you help?

1. Spread the word. Spread it far and wide. Get as many people involved. Share the link on Facebook, retweet on twitter. Email it to your friends. If we all chip in a little, it’ll mean a lot
2. Donate: This is obviously the entire goal for this.

M-Pesa to Simone Wangui Wachira: 0707 222 606 for now. We’re setting up a PesaPal and Paybill that should be up by Tuesday. However, we don’t really have time to wait for that.

If you don’t believe in giving money and getting nothing. There are two ways you can do this:

1. T-shirts. Buy one or two, or 10. The price is 1,000 bob and those who received the last batch will attest that the quality is awesome. All proceeds from that go straight to Roy’s medical bills.
2. Participate in the Royal Rumble. (Click for more information)

If nothing else, share this page, or for people who need something shorter to read, this one.

If you want to make separate arrangements on how to help, email icon@diasporadical.com ; subject: “Roy”

Whatever else you do, send your optimism and prayers for the boy.

Thank you in advance.