5 years

5 years

This is an obituary for Stephanie Gwen. She was born in America but grew up in South Africa. She loved nature and dogs. She wanted to have a dog farm when she grew up to give a home to all the abandoned and unwanted dogs in the world. Her favorite food was chocolate. She believed in God and felt guilty because pleasing him seemed impossible. She loved the theatre more than anything else. Her favorite plays were Phantom of the Opera and Oliver! Andrew Lloyd Webber was her hero. Her greatest dream was to act in his musicals. Unfortunately although she held the heart and talent for acting she couldn’t sing or dance very well so being in a Lloyd Webber musical was out of the question. Stephanie grew up in a beautiful small town right underneath a magnificent mountain range. She dreamed of seeing the world, seeing all wonders that were in books and on TV. Stephanie was in awe of the splendor of the world she lived in, of the sky at dawn and at dusk, of the ocean and trees and the stars. She was so happy and grateful to be alive in such a world and would find pleasure in the smallest thing. She had a gift of inner peace that helped her to hope for a better future no matter what heartache and chaos surrounded her. When she was 21 years old one of her greatest desires came true when she moved to London. There she had to work very hard to survive but she had never been so happy in her life. She made many friends and had even more adventures. After and year and a half she left England to get to know America…the land she was born in.

5 years ago I was born….Stephi. It was 5 years ago this week that I had my break down in America. 5 years ago I was put onto antidepressants and have been on them ever since. At 02:50 am on the 14 March 2007 I woke up and found that the girl that I had been all my life had died and there was a new person in her place. Everything that I believed in was gone. There was no God. The world no longer held any splendor for me, I forgot all my dreams. The dreamy, loving girl, always full of hope was replaced with an angry, cynical cold hearted woman. It was like something had sucked the life out of me and left me hollow. Ever since then the world has became devoid of colour and totally joyless. Happiness became and impossible distant memory. The antidepressants saved my life but they have dulled my heart to the point that I am unfeeling of any kind of emotion.

But despite my cold, unfeeling heart I miss Stephi, the girl I once was. So every year during this week in March I celebrate her life. I light a candle next to the last picture that was taken of me before my breakdown. The difference between that picture and pictures taken of me after my breakdown is visible. This year I am living in temporary accommodation and all my stuff, including that photograph is in storage. So I have used a silver ring that I bought in England and some earrings that my friend gave as a memento of my former self.

As I always believe in looking for hidden blessings even in the most awful circumstances, I also use this time to remember the blessings that came out of that period of my life. I met one of the best friends I ever had, a girl who had known me for two months before I had my breakdown. She should have been really freaked out by what she was seeing and run for the hills. But she stayed and helped me get well. She saved my life, I don’t know what would have happened if I hadn’t had her there.

And of course the other blessing would be that I am alive, I made it through. I thought that week in 2007 would be my last. I was sure I would never see my family in South Africa again. I was losing myself, dancing along the edge of insanity and I wandered when the moment would come when I would cross the point of no return. But yet five years later here I am. I can’t say my life has gotten any better it has been so hard. I have had to mourn and get to know myself again. But at least I have dreams. Whether or not they come true is irrelevant. I want a better life.

So this is in memory of Stephanie Gwen and acknowledging Stephi and the road that I am still travelling.

For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all – 2 Corinthians 4:17

Dear Dad,

I will not always struggle
I will not always have to fight for everthing I want
I will always land on my feet
I'm not always going to be fat
I'm going to be successful
I am not going to be alone
I will complete my degree next
I am not always going to suffer
I am going to be whatever I choose and be successful at it.

If you are in a position of authority over someone, especially a child, always be aware of the power of the tounge. No matter how good your intentions or how desperate you are ,beware that what you say can change the course of someone's life.

Joining the rat race

First day on a new job!. I really can feel that I have not worked in a while. I was so tired sitting in that office and I couldn't stop yawning. I was worried that everyone thought I was bored. I have to admit it is a rather hectic job and there is SO much to learn. The thing that is really freaking me out is that the lady whose maternity leave I am covering is in her NINTH month of pregnancy!!. She goes on leave TWO DAYS before she is due to give birth. I am starting to have vision of the office turning into a labour ward. There is so much work for us to cover that if she has her baby any sooner than she is supposed to, I'm in serious shit.

The people in the office where I work seem nice, they are really comfortable around each other. I don't think they are the type of people I would normally hang out with- they are party goers, I got out of that phase long time ago. One thing that does irk me is the amount of swearing that goes on around that office. I'm no grandma, I once had a very potty mouth that I picked up courtesy of London and I had to work hard to get rid of it. I can understand breaking your toe or seeing something that beggars believe and uttering every slang word you can think of. We all have been there. But to me someone that swears in every sentence they speak tells me that they have nothing good or intelligent to say and are just trying to full the silence. I'm not offended by it...I find it more annoying than anything.

The job itself does look like a high stress job unfortunately. Without revealing too much info, basically the company I work for is a worldwide tour group. The job I will be covering will be as a coordinator for all the tour guides in Southern Africa. It's a lot of paper work, even more data entry and I'll have to learn the NINE different computer programmes designed specially for the company ( which aren't very user friendly if you ask me).

This is going to be one of the biggest tests I will face since I've had my breakdown. I am going to be positive and believe that this will have a good effect on my mental health. The make or break it period will come in November when I will be working AND studying for five exams....with no time off. It's all about time management. If I start now it won't be the death of me. And of course I always have to keep my dreams in sight to know what I am working towards.

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.

Hysteria

I am sitting here with my cup of tea waiting for the popcorn. It is one of those golden afternoons on the farm. The house is bathed in warm sunlight and it is quiet except for the sound of the fridge and the birds. Milo is sunbathing. It is at times like these where I think life is good and depression seems like a distant memory. Yet no matter what season there is always this feeling that future is racing toward me and I am in no way prepared for it.

Last week my sister finally decided (or gained enough courage) to introduce us to her new boyfriend. When a male comes into our family it is a big deal. We are a family of women with the exception of my Dad and one lone male cousin (the best guy you could know). All of our men abandoned us years ago- I tell myself it's because they can't handle us. But the introduction of a new guy in our family has always meant one of two things...heartbreak or a new baby somewhere in the future. It happens every time like clockwork. It's like we have a curse on us. I hate it.

My sister's new boyfriend is a lovely guy but already the signs of trouble are there. He is three years younger than her and has a less than perfect past. I have now decided to be positive and supportive of her, but I can't get rid of the niggling feeling of impending doom. When she told us she was bringing him home last week I immediately made plans to be elsewhere. I panicked thinking "Oh no, not again! I won't go through it again!". Childish I know. It upset and hurt my sister and after a huge fight via Blackberry messenger, I agreed to stay.

Sitting with my Mom in the aftermath, I was trying to explain to her my overwhelming desire to get as far away from the family as I could. At some point I made the most ridiculous comparison of my life so far being like window shopping in a mall- there has always been glass between me and the things I want: success, happiness, love, peace. And all I have really done is looked at it but have never had it.

The hilarity and overwhelming sadness of what I was saying engulfed me all at once. Suddenly I began to both laugh and cry at the same time as each feeling inside me battled for control. The convulsions of both laughter and tears were so strong that I could no longer sit upright and so I collapsed into a quivering lump on the couch.

My Mom's face just made me laugh and cry harder. I could literally see her brain ticking away, trying to figure out what she should do. Eventually I couldn't breathe and my stomach was in knots. She came and sat beside me and tried to hold me up. Milo was staring at me like I had gone nuts. I laughed/ cried for about 45 minutes.

I have no idea what that was or whether it was good or not. It's been a while since I was so out of control. Afterwards my face was red and puffy from crying and my asthma had been triggered from laughing. I spoke to my counsellor and she sounded it like hysteria. It might have been the fact that my doctors were meddling with my Amitriptyline Whatever it was it passed quickly and the next day it was like it never happened. I am ashamed of my attitude toward my sister having a boyfriend. You don't need to tell me that I am being unreasonable. But the past still has it's clutches deep inside us and I am still trying to figure out how to break free. I hope that by the end of my time on earth I won't be comparing my life to window shopping.

Good news, everyone!

Borrowing the catch- phrase of Professor Farnsworth from Futurama, I have some good news. I went to hospital to have a check up for my BIH at the neurology department. They looked at history of intercranial pressure taken at each lumbar puncture/ spinal tap I have had and saw that it has slowly been decreasing over the last 2 and a half years. I also have not been getting many headaches lately and they say the headaches I have been getting are tension headaches. Based on my history and how I have been doing the last six months, they believe the BIH has resolved itself and that I am well enough to go off my medication. This is VERY good news because the medication I was on for BIH had some horrible side effects and I was pretty sure it was interacting with my antidepressants. The only way to see if the BIH is gone is to take me off the meds. SO no more painful pins and needles in my hands and feet, no more fatigue, no more nausea and no more having to  pee 75 times a day!. Yipeee!!! Let's just hold thumbs and hope that it is gone.

And my second bit of good news is that I have a job interview on Friday for a PA/ Junior Journalist position at a Christian magazine. I didn't deliberately apply for a job at a Christian magazine, it just came up. I had to send in samples of my writing. One of the samples was "10 Unusual degrees" from this blog. Obviously I changed it and spruced it up a little.I had to do the Myers- Briggs Personality test and answer all these questions about my commitment to Christianity etc before even getting invited to the interview. I have studied the Myer- Briggs closely during the course of my degree so I know how it works and could easily have cheated on it. But since I want to work for a company that I actually fit into, I didn't. I was a surprised and a little offended with the questions about Christianity since I see that as very personal but answered them as honestly as I could ( I didn't go as far as to tell them I was an atheist for several years). Because of the answers I gave, I really didn't expect a call back.

As I haven't gotten the job yet and I will have to answer some tough questions in the interview (I don't have a SA drivers license/ what exactly have I being doing the last four years) I not exactly celebrating. But I got an interview so at least that is some achievement for now. I will be nervous on Friday, it's the first job interview I have had since living in America and I am facing a lot of competition. I need to convince them that I can both study and work full time. I am also dreading any personal questions they may ask. I have had to borrow money from my sister to buy clothes as I just don't have anything that is suitable. I feel a lot of pressure to succeed for my family.

Please pray for me if that is your inclination, otherwise you can just wish me luck!!.

Still climbing the big scholarly mountain

As most of you know, for the last month I have been a slave to studying. I am currently doing a BA degree in Communication Science and Industrial Psychology. That's a long fancy name for a BA for a Sh*tload of really difficult work. As I am someone who does not have natural aptitude for studying- I can't just study my work once and expect to pass, I have to study it several times- everything in my life (including this blog) has been put on hold. I study at night since that is when the house is the most quiet and I literally go from my bed to my desk and then back to my bed.

I know this may sound really morbid but actually my depression, anxiety and BIH has been doing well. I had to take a sedative before my first exam which I don't like doing but I figured it was either that or failing a R2000 class. Unfortunately  I couldn't escape these exams entirely without bad luck or drama. I have had chronic eczema since I was baby. As a teenager I was covered in it from head to toe ( didn't exactly make me Miss Popularity- I was known as "The Scab" or -the more creative nickname- "The Itch"). But since I have entered my 20's it mostly effects my hands. Every once in a while I get a really bad flare- up mostly because of stress. Unfortunately one of those flare- ups has just happened now during these exams. I have spent most of this week with my hands in bandages. My writing hand is the worst affected and yesterday while writing my exam my hand became so sore from writing that I stretched it out. I don't know what happened but but suddenly my hand started bleed profusely. It really freaked the invigilator out who let me go to the bathroom to re- bandage my hand. I feel sorry for whoever gets to mark my paper that's covered in little drops of blood. Maybe they'll think I'm a Twilight fan!! hahaha!!...okay bad joke.

I am a creepy creepy mummy back from the dead! hahaha!

I was thinking to myself today that it is beyond me that I'm (well my godfather to be precise)  paying an institution thousands of rands for them to give me the work and letting them torture me through exams. What's even crazier is that I am considering torturing myself more by studying further after my degree....TELL I'M NUTS!!!. I just keep telling myself that each successful day I do of studying, each exam I write is a small step closer to reaching a dream and proving those thoughtless doctors, psychologists, teachers and people  wrong who said I would never even be able to go to a normal school.

Anyway I am on a break today and I am not going to touch a book. I thought about writing something fun for this blog since it has been neglected and its a place that I like to practice my creative writing once in a while so.....see my next post!! :)

My Little B

To love someone is to risk loosing a part of yourself

This has been a big week for me...I have finally re-registered at University to complete my degree. I don't care if I have to complete the damn thing in bed, I'll do it.

This week there has also been a major victory and a close to a beautiful chapter. Some of you, who are regular readers of my blog have heard me briefly discuss a little girl only referring to her as "Little B". I have been very vague about this and I am sorry but please know I only did this to protect her privacy. However after much thought and discussion I decided I should share this with you, only because this story is incredible and you will be amazed at the resilience of this child.

Little B is actually my second cousin. Her mother and I were very close growing up. The circumstances of Little B's life and that of her sisters are extremely tragic but I won't be discussing it on this blog. Before the holidays, I made the decision to foster her. I did this because in 2011, Little B was due to start school and we had a BIG problem. Kindergarten/ Nursery school is not compulsory in South Africa ( a little dumb if you ask me), so she was unable to get a government grant like she could for school and there was just no money for her to attend Nursery School otherwise. Now in the area where she lives the standard of education is extremely high- B would have to pass a school readiness test to see whether she was ready to go to school and this is where we had the problem.

Little B is extremely bright but tragically because she had not attended Nursery School or had anyone take time to prepare her for school she was streets behind other kids her age. I am always wary of getting involved with any drama in my family because if you give a hand they will take an arm, if you know what I mean. Watching B's situation was like watching a car crash in slow motion and it became apparent that nothing was going to be done. My Mom and I arrived at their flat one day explained to her what we needed to do and then packed her up and moved her into our house. It was heartbreaking watching this tiny little girl say goodbye to her Mom and each of her sisters. She sat in the back of the car all the way home, in silence tears pouring down her cheeks. Even though she had never been away from her Mom and sisters I could see in the determined look on her face this was something she knew she had to do.

You will be amazed what this child accomplished. Little B had just a few weeks to cover something that took kids two years to cover in kindergarten. The day would start at 7am , we would break for tea at 10:30am go on from 11 until 1pm and then again from 2pm to 4pm. I discovered that B had picked several things up just by observing her older sister but it was jumbled and needed to be put into order. When she wasn't at having lessons with me she was playing games that had something to do with lessons. We decided it would be best for B to go home on weekends to her mother and sisters and give me a chance to sleep.

I will admit I was hard on her but I was frantic and heart sore. I realised with great sadness, that Little B's life now and in the future would be far from easy, she couldn't afford to be model- coddled. I remember holding her when she was just ten days old and thinking how many battles she would have to fight and most of them she will have to fight alone.

But I was not kidding when I said that she was resilient. She took on every challenge I threw at her with a fiery passion. When the time came for Little B to leave she could read and write at first grade level (something that's not mandatory for starting school, but we achieved that anyway) she knew her multiples up to 2, could add and subtract ok, count up to 100, recognise all her shapes...

Once we were over that hill we were facing yet another. It was January, the school year in South Africa starts in January and it seemed as though all the schools were full. I was angry...while I putting this kid through 8 hour days someone could have filled out a stupid form for her to attend a school!. Each school shutting their door in her face was beginning to take it's toll on Little B. She told me that the schools didn't want her, pained rejection written all over her face.

But the law was on our side. schools are divided into catchment areas. Whatever school she lived closest to by law, had to take her. Eventually this school agreed to take her, they had no choice ( but we told Little B that they liked her and really wanted her) but first....the nail- biting school- readiness test. Yes, however unethical it seems if she didn't pass this test she would not be allowed to go to school, even if she was of age.
I had to go see my psychiatrist that day so I couldn't be there. We heard nothing all day and we couldn't get hold of her mother so we went by her work. As soon as we parked I saw Little B and her mother racing across the parking lot. I opened the car door, feeling very shaky and B jumped into my lap.

"I PASSED, I CAN GO TO SCHOOL!!!!!!!!"

She had passed her test with flying colours. She told me when they said she had passed and could start school, she cried, "Happy tears". I went into town early the next morning to see her off on her very first day of school. Never in my entire life have I seen a kid so excited to go to school. She looked so smart in her new uniform. I took ton of pictures. Her Mom and I walked her to her classroom. She already knew two kids in her class. The whole time her Mom and I had goofy grins on our faces and my heart was swelling with pride. I went to kiss her goodbye and she took my hand and tried to pull me into her classroom but I stopped her. "This is where on you're on your own my love, I can't come in with you". I feared that maybe this is where the waterworks could start but she just shrugged "I've two friends". Then another little girl came and put her arm around her and they walked in the classroom together - I had to hold B's Mom back!- the teacher then shut the door. Her Mom and I stood outside the school crying- how traumatic it is sending a kid to school!!.

I have learnt a lot about love these past few years. It is mostly love that has kept me alive. The biggest lesson I learnt about love from my experience with Little B, is that a lot of it involves selflessness and letting go. Sure I knew that that was all a part of love before, but having B in my life really drove it home that to love someone you risk loosing a part of yourself. I got Little B I had to open up windows in my heart that I had closed long ago to care for her. For a few weeks I was the center of her world and she was my main priority. I taught her, fed her, bathed her, cared for her when she was sick, played with her, watched her sleep, hugged and kissed her tears away. I was tired, amused, in love, frustrated angry, heartbroken, joyful all at once. She was mine for a short while and now she is back where she belongs and treading her God- given life path while I watch cheering for her wanting nothing but for her to be safe and succeed. Of course that is not always guaranteed but I have faith.

I have inspiration: if this child moved mountains the way she did then so can I! On I go to the road less travelled:)

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