Conflicted conversations

“…I can do this,” I whisper to myself. It simple actually. I will play dumb, enjoy it and be oblivious to the consequences that may follow. And why the hell shouldn’t i? I don’t think she lost any sleep wondering of whether she should or she should not. She went for it, loved it and even though it all blew up in her face a little while later, fact still remains that she did it anyway!


I clime into bed and the strangest sensation takes over. It feels like I’m an onlooker while my situation is being discussed lengthily by 2 friends I seem to have picked up some where during the course of last year.

“let me be the first one to admit that you sure do have the um… tools to pull off such a thing. But again, let me be the first too to remind you that you are not that kind of girl!” HABIT starts off his argument.

“and how would you now what kind of girl she is?”, CINDY throws back, “when all you have done is show up only when invited. I’ve been here you idiot. I saw, felt and lived through what this did to her and I stand firm on the ideal that she would be doing herself a world of good taking this on even if its just to bring her back from the pitiful state she has become”, CINDY carries on in a presence I have come to love.

She is right you know. If I where to put all my inhabitations aside, I could pull this off! Hell, I have succeded in laying the ground work so far and the thought of how much I enjoyed doing that makes me smile a little.

“Can I do this?” I ask , looking around as if someone could be listening in on the conversation I’m having with myself.

I shut my eyes tight, desperately trying to stop the thoughts running through my mind. See, together with CINDY, they are holding up big signs with the phrases “ITS YOUR TURN NOW”, “YOU DESERVE IT”, “IT WILL DO YOU GOOD” and one that seems to be a little more aggressive since it says “STOP being a wimp!” Cindy puts her hand on my shoulder and whispers hard facts that I too have come to realize. The fact that in this day and age, the good that you try and do, simply gets thrown right back in your face. The fact that regardless of how much risks you avoid, crap still happens to all of us so why the freaking hell do you not just join the masses.

“mmmm this CINDY seems to mean business” I silently comment. As much as her tough approach seems a little intimidating, she sure does make good arguments. What has all the careful planning and good brought me anyway? All I found at the end of that worthless cause are conversations I seem to animatedly hold with myself and my alter egos - who even though come down to being me, are so different from each other. I played by the rules. I helped people. I sat back and waited for it to be my turn and what do I have to show for it besides tears and a best friend named CINDY?

“I Can Do This, I Will Do this” I loudly conclude as I drift off into dream land. Strangely, that conclusion is very comforting even though I know very well that all this can change in the morning when CONSCIENCE wakes up…

Crossing over to 2011

I have been trying for days to come up with some great post that would end this year on some interesting note, a chuckle or two, or even an agreeing nod and a loud “uh-hu” yet all I keep coming up with is:             “            “ (nothing). So, while I sit here, in the middle of the hottest heat wave ever, my cousins laughing in the background, some Nollywood movie on DSTV and the funny dialog between the 2 most amazing women in my world (my gran and my mom), I think this is how I will end it:

In all my 23 years of life, I officially document this year as the most eye opening year ever.

As this year bows out and makes room for a new one, it leaves behind a wiser woman who has learned a lot from the trials and good times that came with it. The biggest lesson learned this year is: SOMETIMES EVEN YOUR WORST NIGHTMARES DO COME TRUE AND YET THE REAL TEST LIES IN HOW YOU STEP OUT OF THE STORM.

I come from a place that hurts. a place that has reminded me of a few things I would like to carry over into the new year:

Truth of the matter is:

• sometimes, things just don’t go the way we want them to.

• Sometimes our prayers take a little longer to be answered maybe to teach us better lessons and give light to a quality we are lacking.

• At times the simplest things in life tend to bring the greatest joy and the loudest laughs.

• Sometimes, the colour pink still seems much better then all the other colours.

• Sometimes cooking a home cooked meal – even if its just for one – makes a million things seem better.

• Sometimes, a glass of wine – a good one – can be very good company.

• Sometimes, the person we think least is listening, may be the only one hearing us the clearest.

• Sometimes, the people we love the most, hurt us the most.

• At times the people we trust the most, let us down the most.

Maybe the lessons are still coming. Maybe the last few hours of the year are yet to teach more “sometime’s” but until then, and more importantly is:

• Sometimes… just sometimes – the people we love the most, deserve the most chances!

And with a smile and a yawn and the newly realised silence that surrounds me…

• Sometimes, maybe its best I just get to bed!

From here on call me Ms Wiser… happy moving over to the new year and may it see many more blogs and a whole lot more laughter!

Signed:

GoT

FACT:Happiness is over rated!

I sat across the table and listened to one of my best gal pal go on about how she just wants to be happy and how she believes the new man in her life may just be the key to unlocking it. Two things crossed my mind: 1. She could be right. Judging from the hell she has been through lately, I would like to think that she has it coming her way – at least at some point. 2. Could that be where both she and I have lost the plot – thinking that when this one thing happens, we COULD just unlock the flood gates of on going happiness?

HAPPINESS IS A DUMMY!!!

I fully recognise with my gal since im on the same sinking boat that she is to. I get her despret grasps at a life like she had planned while growing up and the hope she still has that it will all come through if this and that could just happen. But my pressing question is: could it be that this happiness thing that we all seem to strive after is actually over rated? Maybe it’s a simple concept that has been sold to us for way too long that we have lost all sense of common sense that would have eventually led us to this point… this point where we realise this was just an ad, a concept of someone’s imagination and as soon as someone yells “CUT!” then its all gone (back to our coping existence).

Don’t get me wrong. I am not on some path way to doom and gloom and I still stand in awe at how bright the sun seems to shine after a heavy storm. Where I am at right now, is at a point where I wonder if I (and so many of you) am not just chasing after some pot of gold at the end of a strangely diming rainbow. Look around you; do you not think that if this happiness thing where real in the intensity that we seem to believe, do you not think you would meet more people in the streets walking around with huge grins on their faces? I feel like the fact that we are still holding on to this doubtful concept, we miss the limited happiness that we really can milk out of these times. I think we are wasting so much time looking and searching that we miss the thing that we should actually be doing – enjoying that limited happiness that is actually owed to us!

My girl has other things that could bring her joy and while she likes those and enjoys them too, it is possible that she is missing out on a bulk of it because she is still waiting for this one event that could crack the whole “happiness” thing open. Im not saying she should not be... all I’m saying is that she should not be holding her breath just in case she fully passes out when it all seems like a waste of precious time!

And maybe… just maybe – its time I started taking my own advice!

Again! ..... *sigh*

Feels a lot like going round in circles…


Not sure where to end… Hell not sure where I started.

There is this need… this want… this essential I cant seem to fill and so I bring out the bottle of wine and ask an old friend to come join me. I feel another carpet night coming close and ever so easily decide to help it along before it actually happens and I find myself thrown there while I try to run the pretence show a bit longer. So I slip down and rest there – its gonna happen anyway *sigh*

I peer out the window from down here and wonder if the old friend has shown up yet. See, when all the normal does what it tends to do at times and lets me down, this old friend is always there to help ease the pain and the over whelming lighted headed feeling that accompanies these moments. Why does it have to come to these times? Is it a sign of a flaw in this thing I’m tryna do? Is it possible that regardless of all believe, this is actually not something that I should do or that should even happen? Tell me: why do I have to find me here so damn often?

Knock on the door…. Habit is here!

I find the last bit of strength left and open the door to him. It feels good to have him here… he thinks my jokes are funny…

“habit…” I call out while sitting on the carpet in the dark and the slight noise of the dimed tv images playing in the background ….

“yes…” he answers…

“ummmm…” I continue, “I have so much things that I don’t tell you. There is so much I wish I could tell you but im afraid of what you will say. Why is it though that you never demand answers when I call on you when im at this place? Why is it that you don’t think im pathetic and rediculouse for still slipping to this place even after so long?...”

“would you like for me to refill your glass?” habit asks without fliching at the list of heavy questions I just asked.

Honestly, things do tend to feel a whole lot better with the glass full, “yes please…”, I whisper not wanting to sound…

I have a problem, I silently think, I have this habit which is not really good yet find the most refreshing comfort from it when things are like this. Habit is there. Habit listens and habit never requires an answer or demand a reason for how things got to this place… AGAIN. He is here… always. He does not think I’m ridiculous for having made carpet moments normal. He supports it. Habit is forbidden though but damit he is here always!

You… you are so wrapped up in your world that you miss my pleadings for help. Yes, it has become way more then a discreet asking… I’m pleading and you cant even see it… so don’t you judge me for Habit…

“would you like another refill…” habit asks while letting me lie in his arms for a while!

Just another day....

*blink blink*


Beyond my deepest wishes, here I am once again. Sitting in the dark with just the TV on, a glass of wine and the company of an old friend – Habit! (it has been a while)

“how do I keep ending up here?”, I ask habit.

He just looks at me and shrugs and encourages me to refill my glass (it does feel a little better when the glass is full). I feel like a mess but strangely, the mess is encouraging because it reminds me that even super woman has a bad day once in a while except that this is starting to feel way more then ‘once-in-a-while’ *sigh*

Maybe the point is not to try stand up anymore. Maybe the point is to find a comfortable place right here and embrace the moments that lead me here – because really now, im sure they come with some lesson and good memories (the ones that get you all teary). Maybe the point is not to wonder why I occasionally find myself here but rather look forward to them cause hell, I know they are coming.

(habit nods his head in agreement)

*sip*…*gulp*

So, is that what we decide habit?

Is this how it will be from now on?

I HATE being sick...

I hate being sick…


Well besides the accompanying terrible earth-open-up-and-swallow-me feeling, it also always leads me here; in a heap on my couch questioning the strangest of concepts and the ever growing yearning to stop the remember-when-you-were-here rehash of the past.

See, I'm not a sick person. I have never spent the night at the hospital and I have managed to go a full 3 years with no medical aid since my medical expenses have honestly been less then R2000.00 (dental work and over the counter remedies included) for those 3 years… yet, every once in a while, those moments do creep up on me when I feel as sick as a dog and where I willingly agree that maybe its time to go see a doctor. When I decide to go see a doctor then you should know its bad!

*sigh* …remember-when-you-were-still-here… I got so sick it scared you. I stayed home for a week, in bed and in a constant state of near tears. You called to check up on me a million times a day and whenever I tried to sound ok on the phone, you always always caught me out and gave it your all in persuading me to take my pills (I hate pills). I knew you were worried when you came over to spend the day with me. You watched me fall in and out of sleep when the damn poison in the pills finally defeated my resistance. And when that very same poison left me feeling worse (before feeling better), you let me fall asleep in your arms and patiently waited for me to wake up.

(wait a minute… is this a new intensity of pain I feel?) *sigh and watery eyes* … lol remember the stupid idea I had to go drinking to celebrate me feeling better? Stupid idea because poison and alcohol just made me sick all over again and once again, you were right there to let me sleep it off in your arms *smile*

Mmmmm see what sickness does to me?

I don’t want to do this anymore. We are done with this part of my book and the damn chapter has been closed! *switch sides to sleep on my left hand side* maybe I should save up for a house instead. Or maybe not. Huuuu *sigh* I wonder if I pray hard enough if Jehovah will grant my all time deepest yearning. Maybe I should quit my job and relocate to Durban…

I suppose the real issue here is trying to find a way to relive me of my memories just for a little while. I hate always ending up here. I hate the damn fantasies of what I would do if you did this… I hate the damn flame burning my hands. I hate my lost love for food and the sad (yet slightly great) fact that my jeans don’t fit me as well as they should. I hate that I cant make time to visit the dentist for my half yearly check up. I hate the stupid question my aunt asked at a freaking funeral (has she no shame) and the fact that she is wondering. I hate the idea of doing all of this all over again.

And I FLIPPIN’ HATE BEING SICK LIKE THIS!!!

5:30pm already and I look like a mess! I have meetings tonight and I cant miss that for a little pain and stupid feelings of a past long gone… I should get dressed and draw a smile on my face if I have to! Time has passed and some things are better off left in the past! Now if I only can get over this damn sickness… anybody have poison for me?

Ps: I do mean pills by poison… I am not suicidal… just sick!

Lets try this again...

so how many times have you fallen and stood up?

sitting in a heap on my bed room floor, i ask this question with the aim of wanting to know how many times i will have to do this again. it seems to me like regardless of how many times we all trip, scream and try to hold on before the loud crashing fall, we always manage to at some point stand up again. EVERYTIME. true for some people it could take a couple of years but with time, it eventually happens.

while on the floor, looking for some grip to help pull me up, i wonder too about my stumbling blocks - the ones that always manage to trip me and i realize, they all form part of the same huge stone. i laugh at the discovery and think like those heros in the lame movies... "to finally rid myself of the falling reflex, i need to get to he source and destroy it forever" (queue the triamphet music and a ray of sun light on the hero's face).
"finally rid myself"... the words echo in my mind while the answer dances around in my head... Answer?
NEVER!!!

see, my stumbling block is not one that can be pushed aside at will or even taken on when feelings of self pity pop around for tea. my block does not stand around like a misplaced object in the middle of a room wondering if it shall get moved. my block, strangly, is not huge and ugly and a mess. No, my stumbling block is  part of me. it comes in a shade that works well with my life decore and hell most of the time it can be passed off as part of the room. my block is small yet powerfull. it screams independence and demands attention... its proud and classic and well is sometimes envied... See MY block is a part of me - an essential part of me.

(i suppose this could explain why my bedroom carpert has become a good place to rest for ever so often i find myself there when my block rears its dominating head)

New plan of action.... I NEED A NEW PLAN OF ACTION before i stand up again so that we could make sure that this time, im up there for a bit longer.
"mmmm bueatifully painted stumbling block... oh how do i get rid of you or atleast make you smaller...??"
*thinking*

Starting to feel a little numb from the hard cold floor, i decide to stand up and leave the "To make stumbling block smaller" plan for another day. i decide to enjoy the stand up and the time i spend up there a bit more before the great war with BLOCK starts again...
untill then... the feeling in side is: IM UP! IM UP! shall we try this again...

signed
GoT