In acceptance lies peace

I like structure in my life.  I need to know where I stand and I hate surprises.  Unfortunately life doesn’t work like that. My friend didn’t expect her car to break down last week.  I am sure nobody welcomes cancer.  But life happens.

I recently wrote  a piece about a little boy I knew with cancer.  At that stage, they gave him a few days to live.

I hate that feeling of powerlessness.  The feeling that there is absolutely nothing you can do to change anything.  I always want to fix things.

I have the knack of questioning everything.  I want answers and explanations.  I want to understand.  But understanding can’t change what has already happened.

I once read a true story of a woman who was involved in a car accident.  She always wanted to be in control of everything.  As she was driving she turned her head to see a truck hurdling towards the side of her car.

She knew she was going to die so she just relaxed and closed her eyes.  Relaxing was what saved her life.  She climbed out of the wreckage without a scratch.  That was when she realised that she couldn’t control everything.  The accident changed her life.  She  learned to let go.

I don’t accept negative change very well.  Spiritually, I was taught that we have authority over evil and we have to exercise that authority.  But sometimes it doesn’t work.  All of my prayers and fasting have not saved that little boy, just as it didn’t save my mom.  I am slowly learning to let go.

Sometimes there is nothing we can do to change a situation.  I didn’t ask to be attacked  and sometimes I still wonder where God was.  No super-spiritual answer anyone gives me seems to suffice.  It is something I wrestle with but maybe it’s time I let it go.

There are times when it is good to fight and not give in.  Jacob wrestled with God even though he had a dislocated hip and God eventually blessed him because of it.  His life and even his name was changed.  I once heard someone say “never trust a man without a limp” and I tend to agree but…

Sometimes fear holds us back.  It could be fear of the unknown or fear of losing something precious.  I know that fear too well.

The last stage of the cycle of grief is acceptance.  Without acceptance, we can’t move on.  Sometimes acceptance brings us the peace we are fighting for.  Sometimes it is the giving over that saves us and sets us free.

I wish I had an “A-B-C” plan to follow but I guess that would be too easy.  I want to make a list of the things I can’t let go of, the lost battles I am fighting.  I don’t know when I will get to it and I don’t know if I am ready for it or if I ever will.  Maybe one day…

My amazing Saturday evening

I have been sitting here all morning, wondering if I should write about it or not.

I am in a period of transition and change in my life, which I am sad to say I am not very good at coping with.

I took study leave on Friday so that I could finish an assignment for my part time studies, but by 12:00 I was so depressed that I packed up my laptop and climbed into bed with the covers over my head, telling myself that tomorrow would be better.  I texted two friends to ask them to please pray for me as I wasn’t doing well and they said they would. Good enough.

Saturday dawned and the first 30 minutes I was fine until the grey turning to black cloud descended once more and I climbed back into bed. One of my friends convinced me to go out with her for lunch to get out of the house, which I did.  What she didn’t mention is that her sister would be there and that they would lecture me for an hour about what I should be doing different with my depression.  After that, I went home, climbed into bed, listened to music and kept telling myself to just ride it out, that it would go over, that tomorrow would be better and then I would be able to do my assignment….

By 16:00 I lost the battle.  It was as though something in my head clicked off kilter. As if a setting went wrong. So I started googling the most painless ways of killing yourself.  Turns out there aren’t many… When I sat with a long scarf in my hands, I realised I needed to talk to someone.  Just talk.  That always makes me feel better.

I didn’t want to bother my therapist as I know he is busy, so I did the next best thing.  I called the crisis line that is run by my work.  I spoke to a nice girl, didn’t give my name, just gave my telephone number and we spoke and hung up.  Then she phoned me back and before I knew it, she tells me that the paramedics and the police are outside my gate and I must let them in.  They had taken my cell number and contacted somebody at security to get my details… I only figured this out when the policeman called me by my name.

So I went out in the dark, in my pajamas to talk to them at the gate, while all the neighbours came out of their houses to gawk while I pretended to be okay so that I wouldn’t be dragged off to some mental hospital in front of the whole neighbourhood.

I was so humiliated.  Especially since one of my neighbours is a policeman and seems to have found out the whole story.  And it looks as though it has spread.

My secret shame was revealed and now everyone in the street knows how fucked-up I really am.

To say I am angry, is an understatement. I am livid.  My trust was betrayed and I was handled like a piece of meat.  I was just a number to them.  And they never thought to phone me back the next day to find out if I was really okay.

The fact that they thought it was okay to pull my personal files angers me.  It is illegal according to South African law.

So I am not sure how to handle this.  I am in any case, in the process of moving, so I am trying to speed it up and move out of my place on Saturday already so I can avoid the stares and the glances.

I know one thing.  I will never trust anyone again when I am in my dark place.  I know now that I am better off alone, wrestling my demons and I would rather go and stand in front of a train than ever trust those “counselors” again.

I have learnt a valuable lesson – right now, I am alone and the only person I can count on is myself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aftermath (the fallout)

 

 

It gnaws at my mind

As you have preyed on my body

Taunting my sanity

 

Reality is cold and unfeeling

As pain and denial set in my veins

Like congealed fat

 

Thought too bloody

Feelings too raw

i lick at my bruises

At the open wounds

Teeth marks

Souvenirs of you on my breasts

 

i am dead

i am nothing

No thing

No one

A hollowed out casing

 

But i have survived the nuclear fallout

Of your savagery

 

i get up

get dressed

carry on

drive to the doctor

 

only to be violated

again

by her clinical eyes

her cold inspection

 

naked under flashing bulbs of exposure

exposed

photos

statements

recalling repeating the

horror

until i scream

until i wail inside

or vomit

or better yet

die again

 

why can’t i cover up and

hide

dress in sack and ashes

 

Why can’t i sit

In a corner

And rock and rock and rock

 

and weep

until i heal

until my soul

this vacant hole

is whole again

 

Today is not inspirational or deep.  It is a rant. You’ve been warned.

So I’ve spent about a week fighting a virus that has kept me in bed and today is my first day back at work.  I think I should have rather stayed in bed, to be honest.

Yesterday, I was hit by an incredibly bad depression, a bleakness that just descended out of nowhere and I eventually took a few sleeping pills and crawled into bed and tried to think happy thoughts.

In the midst of this blackness, I didn’t think I was going to make it to see today.  It was one of my worst.  And then I realised – it came out of rejection.  A friend had stood me up and not visited as planned or even let me know they couldn’t make it.

Rejection and the fear thereof, is something I have always struggled with.  I don’t know if it gets better – does it?  It debilitates me sometimes and makes me oversensitive.  But I keep all my emotions hidden from people, in case they judge me, in case… In case I get rejected again.  Because unfortunately, that’s what the majority of people, esp religious ppl, do.

I sometimes end up feeling worthless and alone and sometimes hope just fades away.  I end up wrestling with God about why my life sucks, why I don’t have family, why I am stuck in this pit that I can’t get out of, and of course why He even decided to make me in the first place if he knew life was going to be so hard.

Sometimes I want to throw something at him and scream and shout. Sometimes it feels like I am stuck in a bad marriage. But I don’t throw things, or scream or shout.  I keep quiet, I keep it all inside.

All I do then, is ask that I won’t wake up the next day. That he would let me die in my sleep.

Please note that not all of my days are like this.  some are actually good, some days I feel like I am okay… but some days…

I don’t know how I am going to sort this crap out with God.  I don’t know how to get out of this constant struggle I seem to be in.  All I want to do is sleep.  Today I want to sleep and not wake up.

I have not shared any of this with my friends.  They don’t even know that I have a new blog.  I don’t want lectures, or judgement.  I just want to get it out on paper so it can’t suck my soul dry anymore.

I just want to sleep… forever