I made a banana smoothie for the first time today and remembered what happiness feels like

Depression hit for over three years. I’m still moving on. But today, I made a smoothie and realized: I need me. And you need you too.

I made a banana smoothie for the first time in my life today.

That’s it. That’s the whole story. Bananas, milk, maybe some ice. Blended it. Drank it. And I felt happy.

Not the kind of happiness where everything is perfect. Not the kind where all your problems disappear. Just the quiet kind where you’re doing something new, something simple, and you think: “Huh. I like this. I could do more of this.”

I could explore a lot of things, and the smoothie is a start.

And that thought, that I could explore things, felt huge. Because for a long time, I wasn’t exploring anything. I was just surviving.

Three years of sinking

I don’t talk about this much, but I should. Depression hit me hard for over three years. Like, really hard. The kind where you wake up, and you’re already tired. The kind where everything feels heavy. The kind where you’re not really living, you’re just… there.

I was in a dark place. A sadist, honestly. Not to other people, to myself. I was cruel to my own mind. Every thought was a weapon. Every quiet moment was a battle.

And the worst part? Nobody really knew. Because I was still showing up. Still working. Still writing. Still being “Bankee.” But inside? I was sinking.

For three years, I sank.

And then, slowly, I started climbing back up.

I’m not all the way out yet. I’m still moving on. Some days are better than others. Some days I wake up, and I feel light. Some days, I wake up, and I have to fight just to get out of bed.

But I’m much happier than before. And today, I made a banana smoothie. And that felt like proof.

Who cares if they turned you down?

Here’s something I learned while I was climbing out of that hole: a lot of the pain we carry isn’t even ours.

Someone turned you down? Rejected you? Didn’t see your value? Didn’t love you back?

Who cares?

I’m serious. Who actually cares?

Because here’s the truth: their rejection says nothing about you. It says everything about what they need, what they’re looking for, what they’re capable of seeing right now. And none of that is your responsibility to fix or carry.

You know who you need?

You.

Not that guy who didn’t text back. Not that girl who chose someone else. Not the friend who stopped calling. Not the employer who didn’t hire you. Not the person who made you feel small.

You need you.

And I’m learning, slowly, painfully, awkwardly, how to be the person I need. How to show up for myself the way I’ve been showing up for everyone else.

That’s what the banana smoothie was. A small act of showing up for myself. Doing something just because I wanted to. Exploring. Trying. Living.

How I evade the dark thoughts

People ask me how I’m doing better now. Like there’s some secret formula. Some one-size-fits-all answer.

There isn’t.

But here’s what helps me: prayer and music.

I pray. A lot. Not the performative kind. Not the “let me post this scripture on my status” kind. The real kind. The messy kind. The “God, I don’t even know what to say, but I’m tired, and I need help” kind.

Prayer keeps me grounded. Reminds me I’m not carrying this alone. Reminds me that even when my own strength runs out, there’s something bigger holding me together.

And then there’s music.

Yeahh, I interviewed the Tayo Aina, get in !.

Music, man. Music saves me.

I listen to everything. TMZY. Yiizi. Mavo. Wizkid. Buju. FOLA. Asake. Stormzy. The playlist is all over the place because my mood is all over the place. But that’s the point.

Music keeps me chill. Keeps me in my thoughts, but not the harmful kind. The kind where I’m processing, reflecting, feeling without drowning.

When the thoughts get too loud, I put on headphones. When the world feels too heavy, I press play. And for three minutes, four minutes, five minutes, I’m somewhere else. Somewhere safer.

You need that breather, my love. Whatever your version of it is, music, prayer, running, cooking, writing, painting, or sitting in silence, you need it.

Because the world keeps moving. And if you don’t give yourself space to breathe, you’ll get crushed by the speed of it all.

Start this new week with positivity

I know it’s hard. Trust me, I know.

I know you have a lot bothering you. I know life is heavy right now. I know you’re tired.

But try to move. Make smoothie too.

Not because everything is great. Not because your problems magically disappeared. But because staying still in the chaos will drown you.

Move. Even if it’s small. Even if it’s just making a banana smoothie for the first time. Even if it’s just putting on a playlist and letting yourself feel something other than pain for a few minutes.

Start this new week with positivity. Not toxic positivity, where you pretend everything is fine. Real positivity where you acknowledge the weight but choose to keep going anyway.

It’s not like life is all that great for me either. I still have bad days. I still have moments where the darkness creeps back in. I still have thoughts I have to fight off.

But I’m trying not to sink into all the chaos.

I’m trying to find the small joys. The banana smoothies. The good playlists. The prayers that feel like exhales. The moments where I remember: I’m still here. I’m still moving. I’m still capable of happiness.

And so are you.

You need you and a cup of smoothie (lol)

So here’s what I want to say to anyone reading this who’s in the dark place I was in:

You need you and a full cup of Banana smoothie. (I can share the recipe with you).

Not the version of you that someone else wants. Not the version that’s always strong, always put together, always okay. The real version. The messy version. The version that makes banana smoothies and listens to music and prays when words fail and keeps moving even when it’s hard.

That version? That’s the one you need.

And that version is enough.

The world will keep spinning. People will keep rejecting you. Life will keep being heavy. But if you can find small ways to show up for yourself, small ways to choose joy, small ways to keep moving, you’ll make it through.

I’m still making it through. One banana smoothie at a time.

Start this week with something small. Something kind. Something just for you.

You deserve it.