This is where I'm at now...

http://www.omdraaisvlei.co.za/

There is nothing like living in clean air and peace and quiet that cleans out the soul :)

Madiba

Today was Nelson Mandela's 93rd birthday. A few years ago a campaign was started on Mandela's birthday that encouraged South Africans to spend part of the day helping those less fortunate. Amazingly enough it has actually taken off. Today my cousins volunteered for charity, my Mom donated clothes to a children's home and our church celebrated the opening of the a newly built dormitory for disabled school children. I was hoping to donate blood today, I was a donor before I became ill in 2009, but unfortunately I am still waiting for clearance from my doctor to start donating again.

I am careful of not turning people into gods, but like everyone else I am amazed at Mandela. I was afraid of him when I was very young- my grandmother was responsible for that. They called him a terrorist. But when I actually questioned why he was so bad and what a terrorist was, no one could ever come up with what I thought was a good enough answer...I was just told he "made trouble". The truth is I learnt was true freedom was from Mandela and I only realised the value of it once his plight became known to me.

Most of you will know his story: He spent 27 years- the length of time I have been alive in tiny space no bigger than my bathroom. What is not widely reported now, even by Mr Mandela himself is the torture that he and his fellow activists suffered all because they wanted to be treated the same as white people. He was a husband and father- he missed the growing up of all his children. He sat in prison knowing that his family were being terrorized and isolated because of him and he could do nothing to help. I can't imagine the pain and unbearable agony he must of gone through.

The most important lesson I learnt was when he was realised from prison in 1990. He forgave. How he could forgive always used to strike me dumb- those people ruined his life. As an adult I now realise one of the reasons he was able to forgive. He knew what his reason for living was. His life had a purpose and a passion- something most people spend their whole lives looking for. He had a purpose and he was willing to die for it. They may have placed him behind bars but he already had freedom in his own heart.

We may be born into a country where democracy prevails. We may grow up having everything we ever wanted. We can travel the world but if we do not have freedom with in our hearts and souls, we might as well be locked in a prison. I believe some of the greatest battles in history have not taken place between enemies, but within a heart and a mind. It's like thinking you are in darkness when the sun has already risen. It's seeing the world in grey when it is actually bursting with colour. It is love, it is happiness and it is where life starts. It is understanding that You. Are. Actually. Free and not just thinking it.

I am including a poem called "Invictus" by William Ernest Henley  being read by Morgan Freeman, who played Nelson Mandela in the movie Invictus. While in prison Mandela was inspired by this poem and kept it close to his heart. It is reported that he would recite this to the other prisoners. This poem says best what I am trying to say. It means "unconquered" or "undefeated". Thank- you Madiba for this lesson.  http://youtu.be/9oIKqeZWjis

"Invictus"

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishment the scroll,

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

'Tis the season to be (exhausted, stressed, trapped, MURDEROUS) Jolly

WARNING: For those of you that are having a great holiday season or possess the Christmas spirit with all the warm fuzzy feelings that come with it, this will be an antidote and will most likely put in in a bad mood after reading.

It's the most wonderful time of the year!!, as the song goes. Christmas carols are abound with "Parties for hosting marshmallows for toasting and caroling out in the snow" and then there is the "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, jack frost nipping at your nose". "All for "kids from one to ninety- two" blah blah , "Deck the halls with bells of FREAKING holly"

Bullshit! For one I live in a place where it isn't even winter at Christmas time- today the mercury reached 45C ( 113 F) in some areas where I live. Instead of playing in the snow, we play in the sand on a beach- if we live near to one. Most houses in South Africa are not built with air- conditioners, they are expensive and considered a luxury. So normally on Christmas day we are seeking a pool instead of a fire.

I could deal with that, I have been dealing with it my whole life. But what drives me bonkers at this time every year is that both fate and my family become almost uncivilised.

There is so much going that is causing us to be less than jolly- I might as well put it in point form. Note: This is a rant post some of the situations going on I can't help but be sarcastic about, but there are others that are truly tragic:

• My writing has gone to pooh, I don't know if it's because I feel uninspired due to serious depression, medication or if I am just burnt out with writer's block.  
• My parents and I are in serious debt- my parents under for the breakdown of their business AND my Dad's foolishness with money. As for me?. Let me just put it this way I was very young...overseas...with a credit card. Go figure.
• Because of the lack of money there will be no presents what so ever this year- even buying stuff for a lavish meal seems wrong  knowing that we owe so many people so much money.
• My grandmother who is in the final stages of Alzheimer's broke her hip nearly four months ago and has required round the clock care ever since then (She lives with us) because of this we have never really had the chance to unpack the huge old house we just moved into. This is just the year that my mother's best friend and her family have decided to come to us for Christmas ( we usually go to them ). So we are now in a massive hurry to fix, clean, unpack and decorate the house before Christmas Eve. Take note...this is all DIY.
• The above is in addition to all the cooking, baking and shopping that needs to be done.

On to the more serious stuff:

• I have just started Amitriptyline and am experiencing three of the side effects badly... dizziness, drowsiness and nausea. Add this to extreme headaches from my BIH and horrible depression- not a good mix.
• As I have said before my grandmother requires full time care. If you were ever present for a loved one in the final stages of Alzheimer's you will know the heartbreak, the horror, exhaustion, anger and frustration that goes with it. She takes up literally every minute of our day, we have to go through hearing her scream, shout and talk ALL the time. She can't form coherent sentences to communicate. She is terrified of being alone, yet when we come to her she doesn't know who we are. She's at home but she doesn't know where she is. She sees things that aren't there. Now and then she has lucid moments where she cries and cries her shame, she calls my mother by her childhood nickname and tells us she loves us. Moments later she will descend into darkness again and begin yelling and screaming.
• My Dad hates my Mom's sister
• My Mom's sister hates my Dad
• But my Mom still wants them to spend Christmas under the same roof...because it is "a time for family"
• My Dad's treatment of me has become worse and worse over the last couple of weeks. He thinks I use my depression as an excuse and the reason I am now suffering BIH is because I "did it to myself". He also has no regard for the fact that my meds have serious side effects. Therefore, like my sister, I get no support from him. His constant bullying and downright meanness are wearing me, down making me bitter. My mission to forgive him of the physical and emotional abuse he inflicted on my older siblings and I in the past, is becoming almost impossible. One thing I will still blog about is the part he had to play in my addiction to food and I can tell you right now it is bad. E.g He saw me in the kitchen just now with something in my mouth. The ssarcasm was literally dripping when he said, "Eating again, are we?" and he was getting ready to launch into a full diatribe with the sole purpose to make me feel like crap when I cut him off short, "No Dad, I'm just taking my meds" and I took a huge gulp of water to swallow the ten tablets I had in my mouth.

All of the above mentioned is happening right now....with Josh Groban's Christmas CD playing in the background. Now you know why I said fate as well as my family can be almost uncivilised this time of year. We are a family of misfortune, but it is funny how some of the worst misfortune will save itself until Christmas. And we are all driving each other crazy!.

As depressing as this may sound the perfect Christmas for me would be to be holed up in a deserted house (my sister's flat in Cape Town is the only possibility) with a bag of Quality Street , a take away and a few Christmas DVDs and spend Christmas all by myself with the space and freedom to reminisce on the good and the bad, to cry and to sleep.

I am praying to God to help us, help me through this time. I am praying for strength to be there for people in my family that need me and to take care of myself at the same time. Tonight my mother and I are putting together a shopping list of food we need to buy. Tomorrow I start my marathon of baking as well as trying to turn the dinning room from a storeroom back into a dinning room again. I used to be the biggest Christmas spirit of all time I pray that in all this I will find it again :).

A girl named Jill and the warrior Susan

I love it when an event takes place to remind you that miracles do happen and makes you to believe again. This happened last night when a story that I have been following for years finally closed with the most beautiful and joyous ending. Whoever was reading my blog a few months ago may remember that I wrote a post about a girl called Jill McCloghry from the blog {Love}. Jill was having huge complications with her second pregnancy. She had already suffered one of the worst tragedies a person can go through but her grace and faith throughout it all was so remarkable and inspiring. Well...it is a great honor to announce that her little girl, Maizey Augustine was born on December 7th. I had been messing around on twitter last night and was about to close it down when I got a tweet along with a picture of the most gorgeous baby girl. It made my eyes tear up and had me grinning from ear to ear. What a pleasure it has been following this beautiful woman's journey.

I encourage you to go through Jill's blog and read some of her posts. If you have ever suffered a devastating loss, particularly that of a child or if you are on that often painful journey of waiting for a baby, Jill's writing will help you and bring you great comfort.

Unfortunately I also got some sad news a few days ago. I have followed dear Susan at If You Are Going Through Hell Keep Going since I started blogging. What this woman has been through for the sake of her health is unbelievable. She has to be one of the most courageous people I know. Her insight into the world of mental illness has always in helped me and comforted me.

Susan was rushed to hospital nearly three weeks ago with kidney failure. They believe this was caused either by the drug Nexium or Seroquel. She is now home again but the road to recovering will be a long hard one. Hearing this news was very hard as with any of us who suffers a mental illness it hits really close to home and I really do care for this lovely woman. God is bigger than everything she is going through right now and I believe he will still do mighty things through her.

Two wonderful ladies, two very different circumstances. Both of them give me hope.

I have decided to post "Stronger" being sung by Jill on the Hillsong Chapel album (she has done several recordings for Hillsong). I have really had this song on my heart for the past few days...have a listen.

Celebrations

On Monday night after a stern dressing down from my psychologist I went straight to my support group- which I hadn't been to for a months. My Mom and my cousin went with me.

I really wasn't in a good mood when I arrived I felt overwhelmed from my therapy session and worried about the fact that I was sliding into a deep pit of darkness and things were getting quite serious. And I wasn't entirely sure what to do about it.

But that support group meeting turned out to be the most memorable and I learned something very important that I think everyone, not just those with depression should apply to their lives

Our support group facilitator, started by telling us a story of a very well to do family- the father was a famous plastic surgeon and the mother was an anesthetist. They had two children, a son and a daughter. The father, who was ambitious and successful and had high expectations of his children- the big problem being that he would not accept anything but 1st place or an A+.  If one of his kids achieved only 2nd place and a B+, he would not acknowledge it at all.

This was not healthy for their kids-  to become obsessed by perfection and feel like a failure because perfection is impossible. That is when the mother made the introduction of celebrations. The night before a competition or an exam etc, they would have a celebration dinner to celebrate the fact that their child had made it that far and was so good at something that they could compete in a competition or write that exam. Doing this took focus off the result and embraced and celebrated the journey that the child had made.

Often it is not the result or destination that is important but the journey and the struggles we overcame to get there. For depression, I think everyones ultimate goal is to either get better or get to the point where they can live a normal life while managing their depression successfully. But we wouldn't be able to do this if we didn't undertake the journey of heartache , acceptance and learning to get there. And everyone knows as well as I do- it can be a long, painful test of endurance. But what I learnt from my support group on Monday night is to treasure the journey and celebrate even the most simple triumphs- "I got dressed today", " I started painting again", "I finally believe that I can get better" etc.

At the meeting each one of us lit a candle and stated something we were proud of and wanted to celebrate. There was someone there who lit their candle and said " I want to celebrate that I managed to get out of bed two hours ago and come to this meeting and that I feel better". That nearly broke my heart. I lit my candle and celebrated two things: first that I was able to volunteer for the soccer world cup earlier this year. It was a dream come true and secondly I celebrated that nearly four years after my break down I was still alive and I had made it another year of holding the Black dog from consuming me and claiming yet another statistic. I look at all kinds of statistics and realise that I should dead.

So wherever you are in the world celebrate how far who've come- light a candle, have a dinner with loved ones treat yourself because for most of you it's likely that you are stronger than you were yesterday.

x