How do we fight gloom and doom to preserve our sanity when one calamity after another pile a heavy burden on our ability to withstand its crippling weight?
Do we surrender to depression and bear the consequences that might lead to ill health? Or do we prompt adverse action that could trigger off a more sinister and deadly outcome to an already serious bout of unfamiliar behaviour?
Throughout my working life I have experienced upheavals of the kind that could have ruined many a less determined man and left him with visible scars that would have constrained his future activities. Not I. My yearning for knowledge – since in practice, I haven’t had the privilege or means in my youth to enjoy the fruits of a university education – and my lustiness for absorbing a higher and most varied general concept of the things around me, have driven me to seek the indefinable and often the unreachable, while disregarding the odds lined up against achieving the goals I have set for myself.
Gloom and doom have never been recurrent factors in my struggle for survival. I discarded their very existence and carried on, as if darkness of the mind is merely the repose from despondency, to invigorate future setbacks. I dreamt of optimism, which I considered a good tonic to dispel the vacuity that pessimism brought in its wake.
I thought of beautiful women I had known and admired, and women I had loved and serenaded in my youth.
I thought of better days, when the sun was shining brightly.
I thought of many an adventure which I hugged in secrecy and refused to relate.
And lastly, I learnt to go to bed embracing slumber as if it were a ravishing woman whose radiance and sensuality would have enriched my life to glorious infinitum.