My Mama Showed Me How To Wash the Goop Away

A personal story

Yup. That’s me. My mom told me, I looked so anxious because I was in a strange place with a strange person pointing a strange black box at me.

I have always had a tough time dealing with anxiety. It was like a sticky alien goop that invaded my body, gunked up my chest, clogged up my heart, and sank down to my gut to be slowly digested in stomach acid over two weeks resulting in bad diarrhea. I still feel the same way, but my mama showed me how to wash the goop away.

Drowning in Goop

Let’s go back to a simpler time when we weren’t under house arrest and I was just a cute chubby boy about 10 years older than the baby you saw in the photo. I was on the verge of puberty and my emotional roller coaster had no breaks. I was twisting, turning, and tumbling through life, struggling with all the new goop that swirled around me.

The biggest pile of goop I had to gobble down was the dreaded grade five scholarship examination. Officially, it was an island-wide exam that gave the chance for kids to earn scholarships and get into prestigious schools. In reality, it was a chance for all the adults to pressure and torture, I mean, tutor students for personal gain.

Thankfully, I was not subjected to such harsh treatment at home. Outside, however, it was a war zone. Everyone wanted me to do my best, be a top ranker, and pass with flying colors.

Did any of them care about what I wanted? No! This was war and I was sent in there with sticks, stones, and a bag full of goop.

I studied every day, sitting up until 1 AM memorizing the names of plants, places, and princes. I was buried under hundreds of model answers and a decade’s worth of past papers. I was so enthralled by other peoples’ ambitions that my own dreams didn’t matter.

I was drowning and the goop choked out my screams for help.

Blank

The dreaded day dawned on 14/06/2005. I arrived at the examination hall, bloated to the brim, with facts and figures that kept slipping out of my head. I waded through the malaise of lost sleep and headaches and took my seat.

I still remember how I bit my pencil so hard that the eraser broke off in my mouth. I was jittery and counted every second that passed until finally, the paper fell onto my desk with a thud.

I flipped through the pages and tried to discern the meaning behind the black symbols bleeding out from the white paper. But, I was as blank as the spaces left for me to answer.

I tried remembering what I had learned, what were the plants, places, and princes?

I didn't know. I didn’t remember.

For the next two hours, I stared blankly at the blank spaces. I think I wrote something, maybe I underlined some answers, but I honestly can’t remember.

All I remember are the thoughts that filled my head on the way back from the exam.

I failed! What will everyone think of me? Will I have to repeat it?!

Question after question flooded my mind and I was gargling gallons of goop with each one.

A Mother’s Embrace

When I finally arrived home, my mother was waiting for me at the door, a sweet smile on her face.

“How was the exam baba*?” My mom asked — her words sweeter than her smile.

But, the sweeter they were, the more bitter they tasted. Her words dug into me and tore my insides — letting the goop flood my entire system. It slithered down my throat, my chest, and pooled in my gut. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. Suddenly, everything came out in a rush.

There were tears, mucus, and other bodily fluids I don't want to mention. It was like I was turned inside out. I was lost, drowning in goop, struggling, until I felt someone save me.

I opened my eyes and saw my mother's bosom through my tears, her arms were wrapped around me and my sick disgusting being was cradled in her embrace. I felt her fingers run through my hair and she whispered an old lullaby. I was floating on a lifeboat, but the goopy sea was all around me.

After a moment that felt like forever, she let go and asked me to take a bath. I tried to wash all the goop away but the goop inside clung tight. After the bath, my mom took a towel and dried my hair. A few minutes later, she nuzzled her chin on top of my head and told me to look at our reflections in the mirror.

“Can I see my baby boy smile?” she asked hugging me from behind.

I didn’t want to smile, but having her warmth next to me made my lips move and dimples dotted my chubby cheeks.

“Such a handsome boy!” she giggled pinching my face,

“Don’t worry about all the stress, let’s just smile and hope for the best.”

Those words rang through my ears and flowed through me. Before I knew it, the goop had washed away.

I didn’t achieve much in that exam. The results deemed that I was average. If it wasn’t for my mother’s words, I don't think I would have ever achieved anything more and let the goop drown me.

Hoping for the best helped me get through my schooling days and the average boy became extraordinary. Because of her, I was able to keep working hard, at my own pace, and graduate from the most prestigious university in Sri Lanka. Here’s a picture of my mom and me, smiling and hoping for the best.

baba* — Baby — Sinhalese

Thank you for reading and have a great day!