Grief: My Journey To Healing...

A few days after his burial I began therapy. I’ve never believed in therapy because it never made sense how one heals by talking to someone and repeating the same thing over and over again.

I was at work when I  experienced my first panic attack and it was so difficult. It was more sad seeing my collegues helpless and not knowing what to do. I was traveling to Cape Town for work the next day and my boss got such a fright that she called a therapist to urgently come see me before I leave. That’s how my first session began…

We went to a quiet place in the office and she literally watched me cry for about 20 minutes; very strange encounter for me. I managed to stop the tears enough for me to say “Hi”. Then she introduced herself and started asking me questions… Shit I hate!

If the first session was anything to go by, I was not going back to that woman. I couldn’t comprehend how that was going to work. I come into a room, cry and then still get asked questions, but thanks to my friends and family who urged me to go to my second one.

I continued meeting with her and it got better, in fact, I looked forward to going to the sessions because I came out with a different perspective and feeling lighter on some days. I highly recommend therapy to everyone for any situation.

One of the things she taught me were the 5 stages of grief and how to deal with a panic attack (I still don’t know how to handle it when it comes). The stages are as follows and I will share how I experienced them in the order they happened:  Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.

1.    Bargaining:

It takes me around 45 minutes, with normal traffic to get home. When I drove home to my boyfriend it was around 4pm and traffic was steady or maybe I was driving like a maniac beause it took less that 30 minutes to get to him.  

I don’t remember much about the drive but I kept stopping myself from crying because the tears where blocking my sight. Never have I prayed like I did that time. I bargained with God to put barriers to his plans and delay him somehow. I even asked God to stop time from moving so nothing happens.

My boyfriend has never mentioned suicide and although he showed the signs of depression, he never showed signs of suicide. So as I’m driving I’m asking myself if he’s bluffing or if he’s really going to do it.

2.    Anger:

I was the first person to arrive at the scene and I saw his lifeless body laying there. I was alone with his body for about 15 -20 minutes as the paramedics roamed around and everyone I informed was making their way. I can’t explain what was going through my mind. I was so angry at God for allowing this to happen.

I questioned His sovereignty because He is supposed to know everything that’s going to happen and He’s got the power to stop anything, but He didn’t.  I experienced anger for a while as I didn’t understand why the fuck my boyfriend had to go like this. Why would a God who loves me let me go through this and most importantly, why would Keabetswe leave me to explain his actions that are also unknown to me.  

The anger doesn’t go away. Some days you wake up so angry that you cant even cry. I’m forever thankful to those around me who are patient with me as I go through my healing. The most difficult thing is to try an empathize with someone when you’ve never gone through what they are going through.

3.    Denial

The week leading to his burial was the most stressful part as people are expecting you to provide them with answers you are asking the questions to yourself. Everyone is just dealing with the issue and trying to get through each day. So much happens you don’t even have time to comprehend the reality of the loss.

I went to my boyfriend’s house after 2 days; when I had gathered the strength to face the scrunity of those who didn’t know the story. The first thing his mother said when she saw me was “Askies”. Never has one word soothed me so much. When a time like this happens, you seek validation from those close to you because the world is ready to rip you apart. She held me and told me she loves me and I know she meant it that’s why my heart received it. It still hadnt sunk in that he is gone forever.

Only after all is done and everyone else is continuing with their lives you realise that this person is gone. You are faced with an empty, new normal. That’s when the denial came in for me. I couldn’t believe any of this. I spoke about him in the present and still included him in my plans. I kept calling him even though his phone was off. I went to his mom’s house everyday after work and all we did was cry. Every single day! It was our own little routine. I come in and we sit down and cry. We both convince ourselves that he is not gone and will come knocking.

Going there gave me a glimmer of hope that I will find him there and his mother always said everytime she sees me, it gives her hope that his son is also coming. Grief loves company…

4.    Depression

Do you want to guess what this was all about? You are right!

Every worst thing that you can imagine happens in this stage.

The week leading to his burial, I lost 6 kgs because I wasn’t eating. And everything else that was happening weighed me so down I couldn’t get up from my bed. Everyone forced me to eat and nothing went down.

Bathing feels like a huge task that you don’t even want to bother. Nothing matters anymore. I have never drunk like I have in the 2 months after his death, to a point that I would finish a bottle of gin on my own. I did it at home with friends so at least there was a still a need to maintain some dignity. I was too afraid to try and kill myself but I just needed to sleep and not wake up. It all becomes a lot that you are tired of living. It is a complex exercise to participate in the everyday demands of life. As If living was a task, my job became so hectic I couldn’t even breathe. In hindsight, I am glad work was hectic because it served as a disctraction and made me focus what was left of my energy to something other than my sorrows.

Everyday it still a battle to fight off depression, literally one day at a time. I am on panic pills that get me so drowsy, I don't know how get through the days sometimes. 

5.    Acceptance:

No Comment…  

21st September 2016... The Day My Life Changed Forever

21^st September 2016… The day my life changed forever!

Wednesdays are the busiest days of my week as the mornings are filled with meetings and the afternoon is trying to cramp the whole day’s work in 4 hours, still keeping a cool head.

This day was no different until around 3pm when I got a text that shook my insides, I felt like I'm being ripped apart. “I will be dead by the time you get here”. I was in a client meeting and I lifted my already heavy eyes from my phone and I excused myself from the meeting to go make a call.

My boyfriend and I had been together for 3 years on the 1^st September. We’ve known each other for a long time but we only started speaking in July 2013 when I took the bus to my new job for the first time and it was the bus he took to work.

I had totally forgot his name and was surprised to see him after so long… The last time before that, I saw him was in 2011 when I went with friends to go wash their car in the hood and I bumped into him. It was actually the first time we spoke and he insisted that he took my numbers, which he didn’t because people generally call when they take people’s numbers, right?

For 2 years we took the same bus to and from work and we sat together everyday. Yes, we saw each other everyday!

I had never loved someone like I’ve ever loved this man and I’ve never been loved like I have been loved. He taught me patience and being put first. He chose me and was intentional about it. Those were the best 3 years of my life and I could relive them again If I was granted that opportunity.

21^st September 2016…

The day my forever was gone.

The day every good thing I knew about love and God’s love ceased to exist. The day I felt the world crumble and left me shattered into small little pieces.

The day my boyfriend took his life and my heart with him.

The day I saw my boyfriend lifeless on the ground

The day all fell down

The day I loved and I lost…

Before that Wednesday, the last I saw him was the Monday and had I been chatting to and calling him throughout. On that Wednesday, we spoke in the mornind and that was it...Until that text!

We all know people die but never in a million years do you think the man you love and have given your all to will leave you so sudden and with so many unanswered questions. The last memory I have is him lying on the ground dirty and lifeless. My Keoratile, my person.

Love isnt suppoed to hurt, right? Well… This love broke even the parts of myself I never knew existed. This love put me in scrutiny of those who will never know the truth, yet will always have something to say.  This love brought me to my knees and got me asking God to also take me so I don’t experience such excrutiating pain. This love broke me to a point of near depression and to a point where I don’t know who am I.

This is probably the hardest thing I’ve ever written because I keep re-reading it and it sounds like an extract from a well-written fiction. This is my life and this has been my reality…

I still don’t know how I live after this, I don’t know how I have not dropped on the floor and not ever wake up. I don’t know how I survive every panic attack and still try and look presentable. My own strength shocks me and I don’t know if that’s a good thing.

6 months later and there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about him. And every thought comes with either a laugh or a cry, both leaving me with a heavy heart. Most times I don’t believe he’s gone and everytime I visit his grave and im met with that block where they put people’s details, It feels like I’m reading his resume.

“Keo rata ka pelo yaka kaofela, baby” – Those were the last words he uttered on the phone as we were both crying in between me pleading him to rethink his decision and wait for me to come so we can talk.

Before you even come and say he was selfish, please do not.

He was not selfish. He chose himself and that’s okay… that rationale keeps me going because I’m a firm believer that people must always choose themselves, but not to such extremities.

Suicide is the only way a depressed person has power over what’s happening around them. They are so convinced that they have no control over anything else except their lives, hence they take it. Don’t believe my theory, I’m just a girl who likes pictures and believes in love J

“I never meant to cause you any sorrow. I never meant to cause you any pain” – On my worst days, I play Purple Rain and imagine him saying those words to me because in the heart of my hearts, I refuse to believe he meant to hurt me.

I am still recovering and I am trying to do this life thing. Some days I feel like not showing up and others I put on my Diana Ross and come out.

21^st September 2016… I will not forget this day!

Book review by Karabo Mailula: Purple Hibiscus...

Read the lovely review by Ms Karabo below... I also enjoyed reading the book (for the second time) and would definitely recommend it to anyone

Purple Hibiscus is a captivating story written through the eyes of 15 year old Kambili raised in a stifling Catholic household in Nigeria. She takes us on a journey of being raised by a man who is a wealthy factory owner and a very influential community leader who is praised and idolized by the public but behind closed doors he is very abusive both emotionally and physically.

The book is well written and it takes us through the emotional and physical abuse that the family endures through the hands of the one person they all love so much,"papa". They learn to love him for his violence because he always explains his actions and how it is beneficial for them, they've also adapted to his controlling ways 

I can't help but feel sorry for Kambili as she is socially awkward and is trapped within her own self. "Papa" has instilled so much fear in them to a point where Kambili has lost the voice to express herself in a twisted way that she always finds a way to justify the abuse. It's not until Kambili and Jaja(her brother) visit their aunt's house, that they get to experience a different life, a life with less money but more love, laughter and personality.

Auntie Ifeoma is a contrast to papa, she is very outspoken and doesn't have the same financial power as her brother but is very helpful. She is a force to be reckoned with, a larger than life personality. She is fearless and independent and her children model the same characteristics which is the opposite of Kambili and Jaja.

The book evokes real emotions, I found myself sympathizing with Kambili and her family. How can a man who loves his family so much be so cruel and mean and not realize the impact that the abuse has on his family. Sometimes what you think is best for your children might not necessarily be the best for them in the long run. Nonetheless the book is amazing and I would read it again.

Book Club Review…. God help the child!

I have decided to take my love for reading lovely books and spending time with beautiful people to the next level by opening a book club.  I was nervous that people wont want to join but I knew that there are awesome people who would not disappoint me. On the 13^th September 2015 we had our very first session and the book we read was “God help the Child” by Toni Morrinson. It was a very beautiful session and I enjoyed the intimacy that came with the small group of ladies that came through.

The plan is to meet once a month in different venues and at these sessions we choose a book to read for the next session. We have also proposed that we rotate people who will write reviews because you know mos, readers write. I will post all the reviews on the blog and hopefully you will also get the awesome books we will be reading.

Please see below the first review by Lungile Mdaki and some write-ups from the rest of the ladies. Enjoy!

The book is phenomenally written, absolutely amazeballs and the language in which it was narrated is very colloquial and draws you closer to the character and of course there's a grand lesson at the end (you must finish the book to know what I'm talking about). The sequence in words is flawless and any black child would relate to the story line. The feeling of being accepted is clearly prevalent and the writer takes you on a journey of love, loving and being loved. It also highlights the importance of how you treat a child, will affect who they become in the future.

"...They will blow it, she thought. Each will cling to a sad little story of hurt and sorrow - some long-ago trouble and pain life dumped on their pure and innocent selves. And each one will rewrite that story forever, knowing the plot, guessing the theme, inventing its meaning and dismissing its origin."

There are quite a few characters that I fell in love with. Booker is one of them. He is mysterious and intellectually astute. You would want to crack him open to find the jewel in him, but you need to spend a bit more time trying to understand him and maybe observe him to get to know him. 

"...I apologise for enslaving you in order to chain myself to the illusion of control and the cheap seduction of power. No slave owner could have done it better."  

The love story: Booker gravitated towards Bride not knowing that their past intertwined. They complimented each other in a strange way that they could comfortably, subconsciously hide and carefully pamper their past in their little nest, it made them closer, happier until they have to confront the very thing that brought them together... their childhood.

"...Her imagination is impeccable the way it cuts and scrapes the bone never touching the marrow where that dirty feeling is thrumming like a fiddle for fear its strings will break and screech the loss of its tune since for her permanent ignorance is so much better than the quick oh life." 

A must read.  

Some little write-ups from the ladies about their favorite characters:

“I would choose Booker as my favourite character, not because of who he is, but for what he does for Bride. He acts as a catalyst for her own growth and freedom in many ways. For instance, he is the first person that she feels completely free enough to express herself with. Her most private thoughts and musings are first revealed to him, and, although he is not her first sexual encounter, she is the one that she refers to the most. Even his touch, other than that of her mother's accidental one, seems more memorable to her than most. “ – Thabisile Adams

“My favourite character was Brooklyn. I like the fact that she was the ride or die friend and always there for Bride and had her back at all times. I think every girl needs such a friend in their corner to celebrate there's success and pick them up when they are down.” – Karabo Mailula

“My favorite character is definitely Bride. I love how she chose to use her blackness to her advantage. She could’ve easily remained as the Lula Ann that everyone despises and pities but she consciously chose to define who and what she wants to be, all white everything! (Read the book to understand). I think there’s a Bride in every black girl, and because black girls are so strong, we always rise above the lines of inequality that are set before us. “ – Lerato Musi

MY VERY FIRST HALF MARATHON… A LESSON LEARNT!

I received a text from NikerunningZA somewhere in July, alerting me that the upcoming Soweto marathon registration is opening on the 31^st July. That text excited me so much as I previously participated in two Nike marathons and I immediately decided that I’m running 21km. A whole half marathon… Eeeekk!

My mind tricked my body into agreeing, as it was still excited about the text.I registered on the 1^st week of August and got my confirmation about a week later. 

Now training began…

I began my training with the Nikeplus app on the 2^nd September. The app has a COACH, where you update your race date and distance and it coaches you until the day of the race; informing you how many kilometers to run, when to rest and when to do your cross-training. I highly recommend the app, as it’s very helpful especially if you’re keen on participating in marathons.

For the first week of my training, I jogged with my boyfriend, running between 3 and 4 kilometers - I tried my best to follow COACH. It’s very good to run with someone because they motivate you to run more and not stop so often, but more importantly, to keep you accountable for training sessions. However, I was finding it hard to keep up with his pace and I felt bad for stopping when he wasn’t tired. So I decided to start alone. The second week I dropped him and ran on my own as I wanted to run at my own pace and be able to be in tune with my body. After all, it was my own race and he was going to do the 10km.

Week 2 of training was better, I followed the run/walk strategy maintaining a pace of 7’ for runs and 9’ for walks. I even increased my runs to 5km. The fact that I enjoy running helped because I looked forward to the next day’s run, to see how I will do and which improvements I will make.

Week 3 became tougher as COACH increased distance and I came home late from work, so it was difficult to follow training and I started getting a bit discouraged. Thinking of how long the distance of 21km is, and how I’m very unfit and can’t run further than 5 km, I decided to downgrade and register for the 10km race.

I started running after high school, in 2008 and I was on and off until 2012. I could run 7km without stopping and it was easy because I was young and slim. It’s 2014 and I had gained weight this winter so it was very hard to run and not pause. I imagined myself on the race day, running to 5km and my feet not being able to carry me further. I can’t walk 16km within the 3 hours and 30 minutes cut-off time. So it was clear that I would manage 10km. At least I know that I will finish, as I have completed 10km races three times before (two with Nike We Run Jozi and one with Total Sports Women’s race).

I changed my COACH plan to 10km and on the 20^th September, I ran my longest run thus far (with the app) and it was 10km with a pace of 8’10 and a time 01:27:12.  On the same run, I beat my personal best (PB) of 5km with a time of 39:50. Yay me!!!

I was so happy with myself because I have surpassed 5km and that’s when I realised that my body is able to do anything, it’s my mind that I needed to train.

That’s the biggest lesson I’ve learnt through training for this marathon… That the half marathon is more of a mental challenge than it is a physical one. You are alone on the road, attempting to run a long distance and all you have is a willing body and a stubborn mind. You constantly have to affirm yourself that you can do it, you can go an extra km and you can definitely increase the pace. That 10km run gave me so much confidence that I decided to go back to training for the 21km and actually run it.

October began with that end in mind, to run and finish a half marathon. I tried to run at least three times a week, some days being impossible as the weather was off. I would stay home and do some exercises to strengthen my legs. I also checked out running blogs for tips and ways to run better and those were very helpful.

I soon ran 12km in just two hours and I was very impressed with myself, but every time I thought about the race, my heart would beat faster and my stomach knotted. It was a good idea three months ago and now with only a few weeks left before the race, I was again considering to drop the 21km and run the 10km (I had two registrations anyway). 

But you see the way I’m wired…

I’m not a quitter; I will never live with myself if I started something and not finish it. Rather I don’t start it at all than to give up. I was prepping my mind to participate with my body and if these two fail me, I would run with my heart. That was the strategy… if all these failed, I would crawl to the finish line, I had decided that I will get that 21km medal, even if it’s the last thing I do.

The week before race week is taper week, this is where you reduce exercise until the race day. The Saturday before taper week I ran 12km and my knee started acting-up a little, but luckily stopped later that day. On Sunday, I walked 5km with my aunts for some cancer fun walk, and my body was fine the following day. The biggest mistake I did was to not run for three days of taper week and I only ran on the Thursday, were my body was so stiff and both my knees were so painful, I’ve never felt that pain ever since I started training. I only ran 7km then I went home to stretch. After stretching, my left knee was good but the other one was still sore. I woke up on Friday with the same pain and I started crying. Two days before my biggest marathon and I get a knee injury?? Oh no!  I got to work sad and frustrated.

When I have defeated the biggest challenge, my mind - now I struggle with a knee? Wow! I concluded that I would make the decision on Saturday morning, whether to run or not, if my knee were not better. I woke up a little better and I iced the entire day. What’s strange is that I had fought so hard with my mind about running the half marathon, and when I decided that I’m doing it, my body gives in. That was the most discouraging thing ever. I thought about the effort I have put in this training and how much I was now looking forward to it. I then decided that I would go ahead with the race whether my knee was willing or not.

Race day came and when my boyfriend and I got there at 6:10 we found professional runners stretching and warming up and that was so intimidating that I even forgot how to stretch. He helped me prepare and put on my race number, as I was about to start at 6:30. I moved closer to the start line and that was it… I started running. I used my app as I’ve been doing for my training and it felt so good to hear a familiar voice informing me of my time.

And I did… I ran and finished the race three hours with a slight pain in the knee but with a determined mind and a full heart. I accepted the toughest challenge thus far and I did very well given the fact that I only trained no further than 12.47km. If I could do it again, I would, without the knee injury though. I’m extremely proud of myself and what I have achieved. Like I said: Your body can do just about anything, but the biggest challenge is your mind. Win your mind and you will conquer anything. I screamed so hard when I got to the finish line as it had now registered that I have just finished a half-marathon. I did it!!

By Lebohang Masango aka King Nova

I was going to write something about the passing of Nelson Mandela and how he has impacted my life, but I came across a post by Lebogang Masango, who's known as Nova. It was so beautiful that I had to repost. Check below:

"I hold you like I held Malcolm before he went away. Before Robben and Mecca laid claim to brilliant, roaring bonfires and hushed them to quiet embers. I remember you as the man who said “it is an ideal for which I am prepared to die”, as the man who led Umkhonto weSizwe (mama le papa), as the man who said we must arm ourselves to take back our land and dignity, as the Black Pimpernel, the boxer, the lawyer, the one who survived on Madikizela’s devotion - when you were all fight and fire and flame - this is how I love you. 

Lala kahle, qhawe elihle Rolihlahla Mandela.

Because of you, Luthuli, Tambo, Hani, Sisulu, Biko, Mahlangu, Mashinini, Kathrada, Sobukwe and countless, countless others we are able to rightly walk free in this land of our ancestors. 

I didn’t think I would cry because the deification of your memory had fatigued me. But this morning, a little past midnight, I slowly collapsed into myself as I looked around me: I thought of my address, my parents’ tax brackets, my education, my flight to Cape Town in a few hours, my ability to choose the direction of my life and all the opportunities I have. Without you, without your brave peers, without my parents who fought too, without our people, without the tears and without the lifetimes and lifetimes of blood - I would surely be cleaning the house of some white family or teaching a Bantu Education syllabus to brown-skinned babies who would be forced to internalise the message that they were born to be servants. Without all of you, we would be born and die in the chains of servitude to evil, despicable people; prisoners in the only place we’ve ever known as home.

I cried when I thought of how you wore that Boks jersey and walked onto the rugby pitch in 1995. I cried when I thought of all the shuffling and shmiling you had to do to set them at ease after all they did was murder us, steal from us, rape us and plunder our resources for 300 years. I cried because you had to dance. I cried because you had to be the Magic Negro. I cried because CNN called FW de Klerk first this morning as if he hadn’t upheld the very system which equated us to animals. I cried because you did so much and yet for the majority, South Africa is still what it is. I cried because I have an amazingly privileged life. I cried because I so badly believed in a rainbow that does not exist. I cried because I choose to believe that being president was hard and you tried your best to make the best decisions. I cried because I don’t know how to process a world where you, as a man and an ideal, have to be spoken of in memoriam… 

It’s all so overwhelmingly complex. I should be in Houghton giving flowers to your memory and singing struggle songs with my kin but I’m writing this from a pretty hotel room in Cape Town, overlooking Table Mountain. This city makes me feel like I am the only one in mourning, there are hardly any brown people here. As we drove in this morning, Brenda Fassie’s tribute to you played and all the heaviness rose and fell and settled once more as I turned to my left and saw the terribly named Castle of Good Hope. History hurts.

Everything hurts but you lived and you loved and you tried.

Thank you for your life. Thank you for your spirit. Thank you for showing what it means to truly serve the people. Siyabonga, Dalibhunga. Rest In Power, eternally.

My Black President."