From the dark side: My confession of hatred....Part two

N.B: Some contents may offend sensitive readers

By just typing that last post, digging deep into the crevices of my families history fulled me with anger and bitter resentment. The stupidity of some of those people.....(my family members) astounds me. I am just showing you the ugly side of things. In truth my family in those days were like the American South before the civil war. There were great adventures, grand parties, unbelievable stories of wealth and luxury and eccentric personalities. Growing up my sister and I often felt like we had come late to some big party. We came when all the fun had been had and everyone was suffering from one big hangover.

For the first 18 months of my life it was just my Mom and I . My Dad was always away on business. Other than a few visits by a church friend and my half- brother and half- sister my Mom and I were each other's only companions. Within two months, I had a new baby sister, had moved countries and was living in a massive old house with....both my parents, my sister, my aunt, my two cousins (my aunt hadn't really figured that sex gets you pregnant), my disabled aunt and both my divorced grandparents. My half- brother and half- sister were soon dropped into the mix. One big happy family.

I don't think you'd be surprised if I told you I became a rather disturbed baby. Plus there seemed to be something "funny" about the house we lived in. My Mom thought there were evil spirits living there. I don't know, but throughout our time living there I would wake up most nights screaming in terror. My Mom, exasperated, sleep- deprived and under pressure from my Dad would resort to spankings to get me to stop. I can still remember this. I also suffered from a series of freak accidents- falling down the stars, burning myself, the worst was when I chopped my pinkie off my left hand and had to have it sewn back on.

Because I went from being a little angel to a child possessed by the devil by Mom left the care of my younger sister to my grandmother while she focused on me. Because of this I think my sister became my grandmother's favorite. I didn't have much to do with my grandmother back then but I remember resenting her presence. My Mom would tell me one thing and she would disagree and tell me to do another thing. Life to her was all about acting "proper". She fought openly with my Dad and spoke horribly about him behind his back and in front of me.

My grandmother has lived with my parents for most of the time I have been alive. With the exception of two years where my Dad- in an attempt to get some peace and quiet- rented her a flat half an hour away. Whenever we had to move there was never a question of whether or not she would come with us. It was always assumed. Because she was always there my sister and I always had to share a room. Once the two of us got older and it became obvious that our sharing a room was actually dangerous, we would convert any space in the house we could find, a dinning room etc into a room for my grandmother.


Having grown up in South Africa, during apartheid and especially in a farming community, it was only natural that my grandmother was extremely racist and prejudiced. She would talk about people of a different ethnic race- particularly blacks- as though they were the plague and would refer to them in the most derogatory terms. Before Nelson Mandela was realised from prison in 1990 she had me shit- scared of the man and convinced me he was going to kill all the whites. My grandmother was prejudiced in that if a person looked or dressed a certain way for example they had certain personality traits. Nothing could sway her on this even if the person she was speculating on turned out to be the exact opposite. To add to this sparkling impression I have created, my grandmother was also horribly sexist. Woman were there to get married and pop kids, working was a man's job. Women had to do certain "things" to ensure they got married. It horrified her that I did not want to get married or have children. Her advice on actual marriage was even more absurd...,"You must get pregnant three to six months after your wedding....".

Everything I have mentioned above created the groundwork for a very toxic relationship. The older I got the more my grandmother intruded into my life and tried to force her ideals on me. She constantly contradicted my mother and father and believing herself in charge would tell my sister and I what to do. By the time I reached my teens I couldn't stand her. She fulled me with so much rage that it was hard to remain respectful. I would constantly get into trouble and be punished for the way I treated her. Which obviously fuelled my resentment more. We couldn't get through a day without having two or three fights. Sometime the rage would get so bad it almost got to me slapping her. The worst I ever did was violently push the car seat when she was sitting in front of me. I would yell things at her like "You're an old crone!" or "Old hag!". Particularly in my late teens I treated her very very badly. If I had been a decent person back then I would have noticed that her age was weakening her, while I was getting stronger. All I cared about was that I was finally winning all those fights!.

TBC....

From the dark side: My confession of hatred....Part 1

This post has been on my heart and nagging at my mind for quite a few months. And because of the events happening in my household in the coming week, I think that it is finally time to put this to rest. Since it is so long I am dividing it up into a few parts.

When I started this blog I made a promise to myself that no matter what I choose to write, it would be honest and NOT exaggerated as I admit I have the tendency to do. I admit that sometimes my wanting people to like me and sympathize with me stopped me from writing about certain things. That was until recently. I'm not sure why I am choosing to write about this situation...I might be able to tell you later upon reflection. Here is my warning: There is a very good side to me I won't go into that but I hope that some of you have been able to see that through my writing. BUT there is also a very terrible, evil side to me. I could make an excuse and say that I got this from my father, some of that is true. But mostly I picked this up all by myself.

Basically I can be the most cold- hearted, conniving, selfish bitch alive. It's true. I have hurt people beyond repair, plotted how to destroy and bring someone down. I make Sami Brady look sweet. Here's why, I will tell you the story of my grandmother.

My grandmother was born into a well-to-do farming family in South Africa in 1927. This family owned most of the farming land outside of Kimberly. She had a happy, carefree childhood as far as I know, she was very close with her brothers and adored her father- I have heard so much about how wonderful this man was from everyone who knew him. She went to boarding school as soon as she was old enough, as was necessary for children of farming families. My grandmother graduated high school and then went home to live with her parents where she basically waited around to be married- this was also the custom for young South African women in those days as most trades were closed to them.

My grandmother was a very beautiful young woman and she didn't have to wait long before many suitors came to call, most of them were from very wealthy families and had very lucrative careers. She could have had any man she wanted but for some reason she choose a frizzy- haired, google- eyed man who was well known for being a slacker living off his wealthy parents. His one achievement in life, is that he had learnt how to fly. He would have made an excellent pilot but being indisposed to working, choose to fool around in his one engine aeroplane instead. Legend has it he won my grandmother's heart when he landed his plane in her backyard and came to ask her to a country dance.

My great-grandparents were against the match from the start, they tried to reason, they begged and pleaded but nothing would sway my grandmother from accepting my grandfather's hand in marriage. As my great- grandparents loved my grandmother very much and did not want to loose her, they organised her a massive, lavish wedding. 500 guests were there. We still have her dress to this day, although only my sister can fit into it. She must have looked breathtaking. It must have been a sad day for my great-grandparents. Their years had provided them with wisdom to know that their precious only daughter was doomed.

Within three months my grandmother was pregnant with my aunt, who was born just before their first wedding anniversary. My mother (in my opinion the best thing that ever happened to both of them) was born two years later. Two year after that my grandmother was pregnant again and struggling with terrible morning sickness. She went to the doctor and he prescribed some pills. Trusting that doctor turned out to be the biggest mistake of her life. My aunt was born with a portion of her brain missing. She was blind, horribly retarded and had numerous deformities. I can't imagine the guilt my grandmother must have carried for the rest of her life. They were told to put my aunt into an institution and forget about her. But my grandparents refused, brought her home where she was loved and adored. They suffered a lot of stigmatising because of this.

My grandfather  who would avoid working by any means possible  demanded his inheritance from his mother and took the family to America where they lived off of the inheritance as well as buying cars, a big house, a speed boat and of course an aeroplane. Things were very good for a while. My Mom dropped out of university to spend a year travelling through Europe. Even though this had to be the dumbest decision she ever made, I'm glad that she had this time to herself and freedom. She needed it because of the life that awaited her (that's a whole other story).

Then my aunt got pregnant by a married man (Another "I love you, I'll leave my wife" story, which of course he didn't) and things began to go pair- shaped. The money ran out and they were destitute. My grandfather who had been emotionally and occasionally physically abusive toward my grandmother since the beginning of their marriage turned into a violent drunk. I have only just recently realised how this abuse affected my mother. She got beaten too. Most of the time it was while trying to defend my grandmother. If I had known this while  he was still alive I would have slapped the living daylights out of him. You will not believe how much I HATE this man.

My Mom went straight from Europe to America where she worked to help support the family. She became a surrogate mother to her niece, my cousin (little B's mother, who I love very, very much even though I want to kill her sometimes). My Mom eventually met and married my Dad (biggest mistake of her life in my opinion). Through the influence of my Mom and my grandmother's brother she was persuaded to return to South Africa with my disabled aunt and divorce my grandfather ( best thing my grandmother ever did...worst thing that happened to my grandfather).

I was born in 1983 in Texas. In 1985 just two months before my sister was born, my Mom returned to South Africa with my Dad. All my Mom wanted was for her family to be together again and to take car of them. She persuaded my Dad to leave a pretty good life in America and come to South Africa to start new. What they weren't banking on was all the extra luggage...in the form of my half- brother and later my half- sister. She had dreams of us all eventually living in a massive house together, which was beyond nuts. It was the biggest relief for my grandmother when my mother returned to South Africa. My grandmother had worked hard for her family but she had always been taken care of. She had never lived on her own, never went to college, never had a job. All she knew was how to be a wife and a mother. When she divorced my grandfather she was at a loss. It was assumed by her and my mother that she would move in with the family and she thought she'd resume her role as wife and mother. There was just one problem. My Dad was not her husband and my sister, half- sister, half- brother and I were not her children. More over my mother was no longer a child.

That aspect was the root of many serious problems we had with my grandmother. Instead of realising that she was no longer the one in charge but the support system she grasped desperately to the only part she knew how to play, causing resentment, fighting and the eventual breakdown of relationships. I never saw her as a grandmother, or how I guessed a grandmother should be- just by observing my friend's grandmothers. I saw her as an unwelcome stranger who constantly battled my Mom for control of me. Adding to this the world in which my grandmother had grown up and flourished in had changed. And she did not know how to change with it. She had grown up in apartheid South Africa. During that period, life for white people was a dream. My grandmother became, bitter and resentful toward people and this isolated her even more.

More to come.....

Milo- First six months on the blue planet

I don't know when exactly Milo was born but we are estimating that it was the end of December/ beginning of January this year. His mother had back to back litters in a hole under the farm workshop. I heard that the kittens from the litter before Milo's had suffered cruel fate which I won't go into. It seems that fate literally dropped him into our laps- how strange that we happened to be driving on the same road at the exact same time Milo's mother was carrying him across. We had actually meant to be home earlier that day but were delayed for some reason I can't remember. I was told to take him because they shoot stray cats on the farm where I live because they rent some of their land to an organic chicken farm. How anyone could shoot a kitten is beyond me and I became furious and told the farm manager that he was to bring any stray cats to me and I would take them to the SPCA. I threatened to lay charges and go to our local newspaper. I think he found that more funny than threatening but obviously I must of made an impression because he started to feed Milo's mother and her remaining kittens. As far as I know they are still hanging out at his house but they are feral and he plans to take them to the SPCA once he has tamed them.

We have also seen a cat that we are sure is Milo's father- he has exactly the same colouring. This cat has to be one of the most enormous cats I have ever seen. Comparing Milo with his siblings, he was almost twice their size. So this is going to be one BIG kitty that we'll have on our hands.

It's only once I looked at the photo's I have been taking of him over these past months that I realise now how much he has grown. When he started out his ears looked to big for his face. He is now going through what I hope is just a phase of being really aggressive- attacking people's  feet with no warning. It feels like we are disciplining a two year old.

Anyway, despite his stubbornness and tough-boy persona, I have really grown to love this silly kitty and I hope and pray he will be with us for many years to come. I have posted a whole big bunch of pics of Milo from when I first found him to how he is today.

Hours after I found him- a very scruffy and flea-bitten kitty (not a very flattering picture of my nose!)

He liked to cuddle and go to sleep when in the car

Keeping the kitty in the mirror company

He is alseep here! He fell asleep while licking his butt!!

Loves his favorite toy- a teddy I've had since I was born.

This may look cute but he attacked me seconds after this was taken.

Bedtime

Chewing on my nose

Back from the hospital and very scrawny and skinny, he's made up for it though!

Cats seem to be very specific on how they drink water

Lazy ass

"By standing in front of the computer screen, I'm sure I'll helping Mom study!"

Why are cats so weird?

"I love making a mess and watching Mom clean up YEAH!"

I'm I the only that finds it a little freaky that he insists on watching me bath?

"I've discovered the roof"

"Now if only I can discover how to get down!"

If there was one piece of advice I could give everybody...

It would be to value your health. Use it. Take care of it. Thank whatever deity you may believe in for it. Because once it is gone....it's like air- you don't notice how much you need it until you can't breathe. Or your knees...you miss them when they're gone. I hope nothing happens to my knees....

Sadly, this is something that I only realised once my health was taken from me. I sit now, barely able to type because my hands are in bandages due to chronic eczema. BIH and diabetes has robbed my of my youth. I can't have kids because it's too dangerous and nothing works properly anyway. And mental illness has robbed me of...everything.

I remember the days when I could still run and climb trees and when I took no pills. They seem incredibly far away.

So, yes value your health. It is one of life's greatest gifts.

Top ten most unusual degrees

As hard as my degree is I choose it because of it's exclusivity. Very few people will have a degree like mine. Doesn't change the fact that it can be as boring as hell at times or really tricky. When I was at school I really looked forward to university because it meant that finally, I could study something that I wanted to. But in the end common sense told me that Drama and Film Studies was not the most practical choice to put bread on the table. And unfortunately I wasn't blessed with the brains it that would require me to study Psychics or Astronomy. But despite all this, being unique is something that I have always tried to go by in my studies and soon I will have to make a decision on what to study further once I have my degree. I had this on my mind one day while I was trying to avoid studying for my Integrated Organisational Communication exam ( having written the exam, I STILL have no idea what that's about). I googled the ten most unusual degrees. The results I got really surprised me....

The Beatles, Popular Music and Society (MA)

Are you a fan of The Beatles?. I mean, are you really, really a fan of The Beatles?. Enough to spend a year of your life studying everything about them?. This degree examines the impact The Beatles had on music, society, fashion...everything and it's offered by a university that is based in none other than their hometown, Liverpool, England. Beware though and I know this from experience...a way for you to stop becoming a fan of something is to study it academically. You might just land up hating The Beatles once you are done.

Egyptology (BA)
Remember the nerd in Stargate?. Well he was an Egyptologist. There are several universities around the world that offer this degree and you can also do a Masters and even a PhD in it. I will confess that back when I still wanted to be an actress, a singer and an astronaut this is something that I wanted to do because I was fascinated ( and still am ) by ancient Egypt. As fascinating as this degree may be...exactly what you would do with it- besides telling people all about ancient Egypt and maybe write a book- I'm not sure. It mostly goes hand-in-hand with Archeology and I would think that you would have to make some great big discovery to be noticed and for it to start paying off. Right now I think more attention should be given to what is happening in present day Egypt than to what happened in it's past.

BFA, MA, MFA Puppetry
The University of Connecticut is the only university in the world that offers a Masters in...making puppets. Having seen the photographs of the students work I will say they are absolutely stunning. I don't think a degree is required to be a master puppeteer- some of the best puppets I have ever seen were made by South Africa's poorest who pretty much taught themselves how to make puppets. In fact South Africa are rather famous for their puppet shows, some of which have gone on world tours. Still, I think that this could be a hard business to break into and having had an actual academic education in something so unusual could say that you have perfected your craft and will put you a cut above the rest.

B.A. in Enigmatology
This degree is so unique that only one person in the world has it!. Will Shortz always had a passion for puzzles and somehow convinced Indiana University to let him design his own curriculum and he graduated in 1974. Today he is the the puzzle editor for The New York Times. Shortz is said to have been able to solve any type puzzle or code given to him, in record time too. I attempted one of this guy's crossword puzzles on a flight from New York to San Francisco a few years ago- I'm not exactly a master code cracker but I have solved a good puzzle here and there. Two hours into the flight and after bugging the passengers on either side of me and a couple of air hostesses I was stumped and had to give up. So it seems that this unusual degree is paying off. My question is why hasn't anyone else done it?.

Degree in Anime and MangaOkay, I had to do a double take when I saw this one....you can get a degree in Japanese cartoons and comic books consisting of characters with overcompensating eyes, annoying straight hair and BIG boobies (that magically don't jiggle)?. Then again I shouldn't be very surprised since it does play a big part in Japan's culture and is an obsession of emos and nerds worldwide- I'm one of them by the way. I have loved both anime and manga since I was small but because it is just animation and not live action, you will be amazed at what they can get away with- let's just say that I didn't know people could have sex in cartoons. Some of the stuff is downright disturbing. Mostly it is very interesting and a lot of fun with some really good story lines. But trying to keep a straight      face in front of a potential employer when he says "You have a degree in what!?" might be a little tricky.

Thanatology (M.A.)

Thanatology. The study of death. That's right DEATH. But despite the morbid undertone there is actually a lot of practicality in this degree and there is a huge demand for it. Graduates work with people facing terminal illness and the bereaved as well and generally educating people about death. I have a lot of admiration for people like that but I can't imagine dedicating my whole life to dying and using death to earn a living. I guess it might make the very moment of one's own death kinda like an anti- climax- "I'm dying!...now what did I learn in Thantology 101again?"

MSc in Parapsychology
Staying with death, this degree examines life after death and psychic abilities. It's mostly aimed at graduate students of psychology and sociology. And it's offered online. After having a look at the outline of this course I don't know if could ever get a peaceful nights sleep while studying this. I can't imagine writing an exam on
Extrasensory Perception and Psychokinesis Research or Studies of Evidence for Survival of Bodily Death. What do you do for a living with something like this? "There's a ghost!....now what was it that we learnt in Apparition class again?".

Complementary Healthcare (Aromatherapy) BA/BA (Hons)
Trying to get anyone to take you seriously when you tell them that you are doing a degree in Aromatherapy and making your parents pay university level fees on top of that may be a little difficult. With this degree you will learn how to blend essential oils for your clients well-being while studying the benefits and philosophies of complementary healthcare. You could also learn all of this during a six month course at a fraction of the price but then again I guess it is all about leading the pack in a tough market.

BFA in Instrumental Performance- Bagpipes
I guess you could see this as a major in any other "normal" instrument like piano or violin...but still bagpipes?... AND it is offered by a university in the U.S. Having looked at their website Carneige Mellon University looks like a really cool, eclectic sort of place to study. I am not ashamed to say that I actually like the sound of bagpipes (might have something to do with my Scottish ancestry). But there us still the lingering question of how a degree such as this will bring home the bacon.

 BSc (Hons) Surf Science and Technology
Surfs up dude. Now you can like, totally get a degree in surfing. Ha-ha, ha-ha. No you can't do it in Australia or Miami or Hawaii...you can like, do it in sunny England. At a place called Plymouth. Ply....mouth. They say it's a "A globally unique qualification"...no sh*t. This degree will offer "Practical beach sessions focusing on scientific method"...say what?, just grab your board and go!. Amongst their alumni a couple of dudes/ dudettes went on to become an "accountant" and a "solicitor"...how in God's name did that happen!?. I grew up around surfers and I know that there is definitely a very unique and dynamic culture that surrounds surfing (and I am not naive enough to believe that nobody surfs in England). But this is ridiculous. When you are dragging your butt off the beach to go and study the science of your surf board....you may just be missing the perfect wave.

Do you have a degree? Are you, like me still in the process of getting a degree. What are you studying?. Is/ was it worth it?

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!! :)

Exams aka Period of increased coffee consumption

For the past couple of weeks, I have been metaphorically drilling holes in my brain to stuff in the enormous amount of info that is needed to write my exams. My first one is on the 19th, thereafter they are nicely spaced until the end. Still doesn't make a difference to the amount of work I have to study.

This is not going to be one those instances where I gush about how lucky I am to be getting an education, how hard I've worked to get here. Nope this where I tell you that THIS is the worst type of self- inflicted torture that you can put yourself through. Never mind "Off with your head" back in the middle ages just introduce tertiary exams as capital punishment and it would've put the fear of God into them. Not a loaf of bread would ever have been stolen again.

In my house during the day the T.V , radio, laundry and my grandmother all compete to see who can be the loudest. Not to mention we live in the middle of a very active apple farm so add motorbikes and tractors to the mix, all making it impossible to study during the day. So I have been studying through the night then sleeping during the day. Talk about being out of the loop- my life right now is a surreal haze where I travel from my bed to my desk and back again. It is really difficult to live with people that have not been through this- both my parents dropped out of university. My mom has been extremely supportive, making little snacks to see me through the night. But generally no one gets the gravity of what this means for me. It's not just a little spelling test I'm doing next week.

At the same time there is a lot pressure for me not only to get this degree but to do really, really well. There is no plan B...I HAVE to get it. The job climate in South Africa is such that u don't just need tertiary education to succeed, you need a good tertiary education, something different.

And of course their are also personal reasons- if I ever decide to return to America I would be better off with a college education. Before I can even think of applying for a visa to work in London again I will probably need TWO degrees and A LOT of work experience before they even consider my application. I need a degree to work in Japan.

Then there are the very personal reasons. Psychologists told my Mom I would never be able to go to school. At school they said my best shot in life was to go to trade school, do something very simple to "see me through". I already blew them all away by surviving overseas all by myself for three years, now it's time to prove to everyone that I actually have brains. Overall education is something that I value highly and my life is already better because of it.

But oh, it is hard, back breaking hard. It's hard because studying is something that doesn't come naturally to me, it's hard because of the memory loss I have from the drugs, it's hard to work through the pain of my BIH and it's hard because the degree I picked is one of the hardest!. WTF was I thinking?.

I am actually writing this as a way of avoiding the two inch textbook that has been calling my name for the last half hour. I have already been up all night. The night before last my brain floured and nothing else seemed to go in, I snapped. I hated my degree, I hated my university, I swore to kill my professors if I ever met any of them. I hated my textbook, I hated my computer, I even hated the damn chair I was sitting on!. Right now in the middle of the climb my dreams feel so far away and all I'm seeing is paper with endless words printed on them.

Have any of you done or attempted to do a degree, or even go to college?. Any study advice/ drugs I can take?.

Tell me it's going to be over soon!.

Sincerely,

One fried brain
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