set match

I knew this 'fanily' holiday would be difficult, and difficult it has been.
I have to find a way to make this work for me, I will have to learn to really bite my tounge,
Not just a half nibble.

I sit here next to my gran as she reads gone with the wind, watching my dad and stepmom
Sort out a water bill, and the smell of sun oil from my sister lying on the out skirts of a golf course
In a yellow bikini, I can hear my brother inside lifting weights. And me, with a ciggerette trying to
Get a sense of my self and a way to fit in.

After emotionally depleting arguments with a side of my father I have not seen in years, I have found an effective
Outlet to relieve my sobs and agerous fears. I have taken to my best friend being a tennis raquet, ball and wall, and with these
Friends I smash my ball with every muscle powered by anger as hard as I can against my wall, and I run and I hit and I
Play against myself until I am drenched and tired out that I can no longer feel the hurt, my friends true. Of course I'm back
At that wall again a few hours later.

I am in a place I need to be, yes a little dependant on my therapist and councilor, emailing one
Phoning the other, I'm a therapists worst nightmare. So I promise today to wing this one on my own from her,

Let's see...

I 'found' myself in Africa

I have been out of range for more than a week and am starting to show signs of withdrawal. A withdrawal from being unable to enter my world of blog. I have found myself dreaming of Internet connections and portals to keyboards. I now have the privilege of using my cousins computer. In his room surrounded by the periodic table, Dinosaur models and a mass Lego collection.

I have been in the wild so to speak, away in the African bush. I did attempt to climb a water tower to find an Internet connection(from old school land poles) I was unsuccessful. In sat at the top and took in the view: miles and miles of orange sky, a never ending bush and thorn trees. A soundtrack of thousands of bird species and the calls of the lion. Reminding myself I am amongst the untamed and feeling untamed myself(always) so,I carefully made myself down the tower to the other humans.

I will try and highlight my last week in one entry...

The day after my birthday I drove up into the bush veld with my grandparents, tired and unprepared for the hilarious evening ahead. My Grandpa and I trying to braai(barbeque) all I remember I remember was smoke in my eyes, us dancing round the fire trying to turn corn.

My first night alone:

In a beautiful room, copied as a ruin, was challenging. Although placed faraway from anywhere and in the middle of nowhere, my paranoia found a swap of fear for intruders to fear of animals intruding.After hours of scanning my room for snakes I fell asleep with ease but was soon woken by the grunting of a lion. Asa there is no fencing round our lodge and so close to all I got thinking. Surely if sharks sometimes attack humans surely then it is possible for a lion to come and have a snack off me in my bed. RIDICULOUS! I fell asleep to the sound of rain washing out the lions call.

WALKING:

My GP wanted to go walking. I politely declined reminding him where we were and sure I would go if he had a rifle, he did not, we heard later that a family close by had been mauled by lions, hence no walk.
I wander if animals observe us, suss me out before they gift us to observe them?

HIGHLIGHTS:

(1) A large part of my family arrived and yes of course there were the fireworks of a family feud, I'm sure the arguing and its loudness gave the animals a sound to fear, probably more wild then the wild, soon our tears died down.

(2) 'stealing' the open air land rover , me the driver, my mom, uncle and potential step sister my passengers. We we went for a joyride in the bush, I felt a part of. As I drove my mom filmed my uncle in a yellow dress pretending to be a game ranger and my step mimicking it all. It was funny and thrilling.

(3) Something that will live in me is the day we came across some very angry lioness, ready to kill, very Hungary. It was dusk and then dark, we had no light and no rifle and my potential step father shut off the vehchle. I cant describe what rush of fear held me down this night, i was twisted by it. I expressed that I had a bad feeling, my 'step sister' and I held on to each other as we tried to follow the green eyes.I could not see behind me and the cats became aggressive, almost vindictive, taunting us, i could See the hunt in their eyes. One was ready to pounce, another circling us as the other watched from the bush. I could not help but feel hunted and panicked, we soon left.
(strange I have no fear of elephants with in reach of me, as if they were to charge, it would be like being beaten up. A lion however would be ripped into pieces: no)

Alas the drama of my mind. Later the same evening something sprinted at me, I just saw eyes, thought it was a lion, I ran so fast and got away to see it was not a lion, but a Genet, the size of a house cat. All laughed at Me, including me.

I relaxed and breathed in my surroundings and addressed my fears. I know now what I fear or have feared most my whole life and like most people that is death. I fear nothing in between(well besides rejection and stuff) I learnt this when I feel a sense of belonging, from that I learnt to to take this sense of belonging with me and then to myself I will always belong.

As far as my fear, its just that, a paranoid sense of unknowing.

It seems I learnt more in the bush then just the basic survival of me.

drunk and dusted

You know that feeling when you laughing and you not sue why cos you feel like crying!
Well I just found my self screaming, being unsure as to if this is funny or sad unfortunately my anger got the better of me
And scared the rest away!

I was laying in bed watching a movie as my uncles and mom boozed it up downstairs.
A bit like when I was young, the kids in the room well the
'adults'soclialise, beggening to think I was born an adult and am groing into a child?
Really engrosed in my film, I heard the music go up and then there were my mom and uncle, parading in front of me, dancing and singing.
Well I lost it.

I screamed at them almost barked and bit and they went running out. I locked the door and finished my moviem
Feeling guilty as I do so easily I went down to apologise. It seems no apology was needed as they forgot.
I'm trying to pin point my agression, think I know: yes something to do with how my mom just demanded I turn off my light at 10 30, hello
Mom I'm 30 and you're drunk.

*it does not bother me when others drink and carry on unless I am in some direct line of attack, wethere its ridicule,orsmothering
Or just to much of anything. Reaaly do what u want, just dnt include me when I am clearly
Not in the mood!

But hey , I can also be a moody *****

The sky is not falling

Today I remember the voice of Chicken Little from my childhood, "The sky is falling" My world today is similar to this story, except I am not a chicken and my 'friends' are not farm animals.

One still beautiful morning I was drinking my coffee, staring at the calm sea. The sun came up from over the mountain as I hummed happily to myself.
Suddenly a voice came down and hit me right in the gut, bringing up old feelings. I dropped my cigarette and looked up. I could see the shadow of my stepmother and feel my heart go numb. Unaware she had dropped an "acorn on my head" unravelling in my heart, feelings still carried through from a harmful seated place.

"Oh fuck" I thought, "The sky is falling! I must run and tell my therapist" As i drove past there house, towards town, I called my mom who was working. "Why, 'chicken little', whats wrong with you?" asked my mommy.
"oh fuck mom, the sky is falling,and I'm going to tell my therapist!"
"Oh,'chicken little'what do you mean?"
"I saw it, I heard it, I smelt it,I felt it with my very own eyes,mind,heart and ears" I answered.
"I am here for you" my mom said calmly.

You get the point...
Basically I spent the weekend at my dad, A whole lot of stuff came up that I don't understand. I understand I can not change who they are or what is said to me , or even what they think of me. I just cant understand why certain things are so hurtful and I am helpless. I am not helpless over how I react to these things, BUT today was one of those days I felt The sky was falling, the ground was sinking and rocks were been thrown at me from the ground.

The chicken little saga, is that how I reacted , I was flustered, spending my day phoning my nearest and dearest, spitting out my frustration, hurling my hurt at the wrong people, I was angry, I brought everyone along for this ride. Angrily "why are they like this and why do they do this and why would they treat me in that way" (THE SKY WAS FALLING: and I was screaming it out to all)

I stopped at what I now refer to as my "parole officer" being my councilor. I got angry with her, telling her I'm sick of 'them' (my councilor and shrink) one tells me to do this , the other that and I become confused. With venom in my speech, I said "why don't the two of you just print out a list, telling me which books I can read,which movies I can watch,what people I can see etc, so that I can meet your bloody standards!" "Where does that anger come from ?" she asked, "The sky is falling, The sky is falling"

Home sweet home at my grandparents and where I am very happy to be. It started out well, I spoke of my weekend and then it happened again, those old feelings from childhood of not being welcomed and never understood, sometimes even heavily punished for being 'special and different' , yup, heaven came crashing and "the sky was falling"

phew, and then just like chicken little, after the fox tried to eat him and his friends, my fox being my mind going all negative on me and brandishing me to rocks and mud. All I was thinking, I need to tell my therapist, I want to tell her now. Things turned, grandparents suggested a lovely walk by the sea. I moaned and said no and called my mom, she laughed, 'that's okay, don't go for a walk, just sit with yourself and soak in self pity. So like chicken little I screamed once more "the sky is falling" I walked down the lane,through the dust roads,past the green sea,around the thistle trees,and back to the car and up the lane to home. Brought in the garbage bin and sat outside calmly with me, To my grand parents delight I forgot all about telling my therapist the sky is falling. To there delight, i no longer believed the sky was falling.

Today this was me.

this is yesterdays

Isn't it strange how in a place you have never felt truly welcomed you can be so warmly welcomed and in a instant of one small incident u become unwelcomed. Strange how life works.

Today I arrived at my dads place with an irritating feeling in my gut. How are they going to treat me (after the psyche ward) what will I say? Can I be myself? For so many years it has been a struggle to be any of that here. Well the fascinating thing, with all our history,energy I did what came naturally. I played no role, I played myself so to speak.

After a lovely dinner, pomegranate juice flowing, laughing, bonding and a family love I have always craved. A heartfelt steak blending with butterflies of tender rare caring, salted with open minds, no seduction was needed as this was pure so easliy intoxicated with feeling.

Well here I am feeling welcomed and comfort, I ask what I think is a normal thing, "can I use the computer please" I almost knew the answer just from the silence, her face almost told me before she mouthed the words. Plainly, this is my dads house, where I would like to feel at home and it comes a little hard when, there are 3 computers IN this house and - apparently can't use any?

Well I'm not sure what it is but I'm sure what my thoughts are: in a short space of realness so easily the fake sets in? If I can't use a computer in my own fathers house what is it about me? I'm sure I am feeling not only irritated but in one turn of a ridiculous answer everything seems divided and how can I tell what's real or is it realish.

Well its okay, I wear the real on my sleeve and keep the rest in my pocket.
And its more okay that I can send this through my sister by pen through , phone, my ink is my blackberry and my pen is you.
That moment of 'family ties' was worth every bit to put all the real that comes with it , close by on my sleeve.

REALLY?

Stuck for non entity. Today I waited for my dad and them to go on their four hour cycle. I am using their excessive exercise time,, to sneak into my spemothers "office" so I can communicated with my blog. This is ofcourse sfter watching rugby with them at 7 :30am(dedicated to their sport) so here quick before I get caught....

Where is the line between real and un real
something you touch smell or feel
could be just as yes as it could be no
something you may want to see or show

to differentiate the two why bother
therEs no telling one from the other...


Enough of that, I sit here, subdued by the blaring sun, sat at a river bed, giving up on deciding what connection should be made, how things should be felt. I don't mind giving that up, for then I have no ones ideas to live by. Not even mine, simply I just live and if the ideas come with then, bonus.

To spend time with family I might or might not understand, as they may or may not understand me is well ordinary. Understanding is an understatement. I have learnt that support is far more interesting , more useful and could be beneficial for relationships to work. To continuously strive for others understanding of you, could be a fateful expectation. So I will rather go with what is already there, fore yes, to understand is to known but how boring would life be if we were all KnoW it alls. Maybe lack of understanding gives more learning experience which Finlay leads to some kind of communicative : UNDERSTANDING.

10 steps to reason

I just watched 39 steps with my grandparents, we have really got into our old Hitchcock films. I find that I smile the whole way
through, just appreciation the brilliance of how simple film was back then. This is one of the 10 highlights of my day.

2- Hearing the exciting screams coming from the children on the beach, shrieking with laughter as they swam in icy water.

3- Walking along the rocks bare foot, enjoying every moment as my feet met the sand and soaked in the water well I thought of nothing.

4- Nana's well nurtured soup.

5- A whole hour of an afternoon nap. The best part is that I was only half sleeping, my other half was awake. I felt like I was floating.

6- sending an email to my lecturer, with an attachment that was my second module.Completed.

7- Sharing thoughts with my sister, even though she is 7793 miles away.

8- The color of the clouds as the sun goes down.

and 9-Laughing. Just laughing with my grandparents over dinner. blessed are we with laughter.

I may be a bit low, or could be a tad high, but these 10 hings make it easy for me to lay my head down and smile before I close my eyes.

Swim with the bunnies

I was woken by my Nana at 4:45am, I couldn't understand "what are you bloody thinking , waking me up so early" Not realising for some reason my crackberry decided to go back in time an hour and I was to be on the beach by 6:30am for an Easter service. She walked back in my room loudly asking"am I going to the beach on my own?" , "Are you mad Nana, it's only 5:15am" No it was not. I managed to get dressed drink my coffee have my morning cigarette, in the dark in all of 10minutes. Oh and wake and convince my uncle to come with.

It was beautiful, none of us Methodist and me being concerned the congregation would find out. Silly concern for such a beautiful sunrise... I noticed a family of different generations of ladies. I imagine mom, her sister, a daughter and a gran, taking there clothes off. I thought oh OK a baptism on Easter Sunday, why not. No there they were in there swimsuits. One minute on the sand the next paddling in the water. I felt the very icy cold breeze, looked up at the sky, grayish, looked back at these woman and though"crazy" But sweet.

After some small talk with a few neighbours about my uncles loud voice that could possibly carry across the neighbourhood but apparently to his joy does not. We returned home to my grandfather. "you really missed out!" said I, he answered sarcastically "you people just leave me here , well you go out and have a good time!" how dare we, we chuckled and sat down to breakfast.

The day went by as I pondered about omens and the what birds symbolise, with a soundtrack of debates about politicians and Ertha kitt serenading the scene. Soon my mommy arrived. I miss her sometimes, even though we live in the same city. I guess it's because I have been so lost and disconnected from all. She sat next to me, hugging me like a little girl, I love to watch her interact with her boyfriend. He is a tad deaf(well a lot) She being loud has a knack of keeping him in tune, perfectly paired.

My mom and I played Easter bunny for who I call my "stepsister"(my moms boyfriends daughter) I ran around hiding eggs in either very obvious places or very well hidden, thought provoking hide outs. As she wandered around the garden, a voice hummed, col, no colder, okay warm warm warm, luke warm, warm to the left, hot hot hot hot.... This voice was mine. It took me back to child hood, when my sister, cos and I used to hunt like hooligans , searching our Easter treasure, the adults would direct us with, cold for if we were far, warm, meaning closer, and hot we've got it!

Oh, shit, its my voice, I'm an Easter bunny adult!

So sure I am an adult who is not permitted to make decisions about my life due to circumstances and bloody consequences of my addiction. Fine I may not be able to choose to live on my own today, or buy what I want tomorrow.. BUT I got to be an adult for a child who needed a bunny, so for today that is plenty of a gift.

black out

OR NOT...

I am spending some time with my grandparents, while I get well and my meds start leveling. A much safer option then a psyche ward in my opinion. Being here in this little town with a whole lot of love from them , I feel better already (or maybe i feel normal even when I'm slightly off the wall) Theres just something about the air here...

So we started dinner 15 minutes early, which is 7:45pm as opposed to 8:00pm sharp. The reason for this is because the lights needed to be sgut off at 8:30 GMT time world wide. Some sort of stand against global warming or something to that effect. Well, at 8:20 we began to scramble around lighting candles and collecting torches. One would think we were collecting and rashining our dessert for some major black out.

There was a lot of excitement round the preparation for lights out. At 8:28 we all stood at different switches and out with the lights we went. Smiling like a kid going to the fair for the first time, the three of us hurried outside, anticipating that the village would be in darkness. To our disappointment it was not, and we could still see all the lights from across the bay. (the municipality had forgotten the very thing they had advertised) for this our house in the dark but our garden illuminated by the street lights.
Pathetic attempt from this city.

But not all was lost, for the rush of our own blackout, the preparation of mood altering light, we ate out dessert and watched a movie by candle light. This moment for me was worth our romantically lit black out.

Path Finder

This morning I was staring at an empty cubicle hidden by a plant and some blinds, waiting nervously for my shrink. I smiled when I saw her, an eager smile, my mind had a plan and I would do anything to make this a reality. I sat and immediately chatted away 'so I was thinking, I need to leave this place" I was full of energy 'you see, I'm not meant to be here" changing my direction" You know I got earplugs last night, so tyhat was cool" I giggled,' I don't belong in a room with an energy that could knock me down," I couldn't stop, rambling on so she stopped me for me, "I have good news and I have bad news" I did not interrupt. 'The good news is you are sleeping, your lithium is leveling out, the bad news are, the nurses have reported you are very restless" I thought to myself, of course they think I'm bloody restless, I am the only person who doesn't sleep all day!
instead i said "so what does that mean", "well you are clearly still manic and you are not 100%" , one hundred percent of what I wandered. "I will change your mood stabilisers and You need to stay here, you cant go back to seascape(the tertiary facility) i looked at her calmly "well, i think it should go like this...."


So I have gone from psyche ward to happy house! I am not surrounded by smoke and walls, I now live in an actual season. No brown walls and the sounds of psychosis filtering my mind. I think this works out best for me: I sit and take in the sea, I walk by the ocean with my grandparents. I may still have and edge to me but IO will enjoy having this edge surrounded by my well humoured grandparents just being me, without having to worry about what notes the nurses are taking, who I want to kill, dark forces contaminating my light. I feel for those people I do, but this is the best way to take care of self. Here's an example of how:

I went on a mission(walk) with my grandparents, My grand father navigated this mission. My Gran second in command and myself a dreaming corporal. We snuck on to a golf course. Not just any golf course as it lies on the rocky beaches. We marched forth to explore (lucky for me they are explorers) It was exciting, it was exhilarating and it was purely entertaining. We mapped out the logistics and found ourselves on a beach of wander. I walked into the ocean(this is much better medication the what I did at the psycheward the last 4 days) The sting of her touch, shook me, positively and rather then dark I became lighter. Navigating us back to the road, my grand father lead us in to a hill of thorny bushes, " i don't have much faith in this path finder" my grand mother said cynically. I giggled. He changed course and before we I knew it my Gran was leading, "We have a new leader, and I have all the faith in this leader!, the old leader was revolted from power" snickered my grand father. We all giggled.

For me this is the best kind of therapy, looking into the ocean as the ocean looks into me, freely walking about with out a nurses leash and of course the love and the laugh of my jocular family. Who wouldn't want to giggle til they cry, speak until they sing, splash until they swim, and dream until they become...

Hang-Man

Sweep me away from here. There were moments today where I found myself standing on the edge of my mountain. To let the wind take me and soar. To let the wind take me fall.

 We have these sessions here called conjoints. Combining all or both people or things involved: conjoint family therapy.

This is my story: In brief.

My relationship with my father has never been formed, as many we are sure. I have memorie

s I used to let bury me. In short I have been deeply hurt by this man, my dad. The past is the past and I leave that aside. One thing that still lives is the not being a part of. For years I have been trying to creep into my daddies heart. Like a little girl I have laughed and then cried. Like an adolescent I have rebelled and screamed. As an adult I have no action for I never learnt what to do as an adult.

 My father was the guest for today’s conjoint. My behaviour has been completely inappropriate. I have been upside down, stressing. Not normally a candidate for anxiety, I know now.  My morning I spent on the sand of the beach, as every wave crashed with every thought. I became agitated and self-destructive. In-group I sat next to my counsel wanting to scr

eam. Somebody listen, somebody hear me ‘I am scared”, my voice did not sound to the occasion.

 Standing, just touching my councillors hand. A mutual affection, she was irritated with me and her touch was gone, she let go of my hand before the group had closed. I took this very personally and felt intense rejection; I thought she let me fall. I felt scared that she would not support me with my dad. I crumbled or rather I screamed. I swore at her and threatened her and screeched off in my car.

 Self sabotage? Or unmanageable feelings? Whatever my adolescent coping skill drove me. Anger. I did not realise how fast I was driving and I did not know where I was going. I came to in a field, I found myself crying. I did not know how I got there but I melted in greenery. My tears were not few. As I sobbed I found myself staring at a hanging ground.

Thoughts of suicide took over. I rationalised. I am sad but I am strong. I drove and wept I wept and relief began to loosen me up. This was necessary although unnecessary. Another approach could be, “hey you, I’m hurt|” and cry.

I don’t have to take things to some dramatic climax all the time; I can get the same relief from just standing where I am.

 The conjoint came and went and I know now I worked myself up and worked myself over. I hurt people in between. Sure he seemed to wear a mask unknown. Naturally I could not be myself alone. “Dad” I said, “Its simple all I need from you is to be a part of you,” I think although he doesn’t understand my pain. I know he doesn’t have to. As long as he knows and I know my part to “I avoid him” he said and I thought yes he’s right, I tend to avoid pain.

 It does not have to be so dull and gloom. This is past pain, this is not now. I can’t fester in what keeps me sick. All I can do is be patient and kind. Yesterdays misunderstanding is lost, not forgotten but forgiven. What happens tomorrow is for tomorrow to reveal.