Feeling Meh 

Sometimes one of our biggest mistakes in life is caring too much. I never thought I’d find myself saying this, but here I am. 

Many don’t deserve the time and effort you put into the relationship you have with these people. All the signs are there that this person isn’t invested in you as much as you are in them. But you continuously ignore it. Forgiving, forgetting and moving on. Till finally you realise you can’t take anymore. Enough is enough. 

The worst part is trying to learn how to stop caring… 

I’m back

Hi guys! Sorry it’s been such a long time since I last posted.

First a young family member was taken ill, while we knew she would be ok dealing with that and the effects of her medication was the hardest part.

Then I went on a very emotional and spiritual journey to Saudia Arabia. It was one of the most amazing experiences I’ve had. This is a country that is the focus for all Muslims but its also one of the most controversial ones too. Especially with its strict shariah laws and ways of dealing with its crime.

Ramadan is here too and today is our first day of fast. Means also I have some time to post and catch up on what you guys have been up to. ( I’m not cooking 10 meals a day…. Yippeee )

So good news is you will be hearing a lot more from me now on.

Yes… It’s true… I’m back 🙂

The Road To Nowhere.

Here I am a million thoughts from where I want to be.. I wonder if my destiny is where my heart wants to go or will it be in the opposite direction…

I’ve been out of writing blogs for a good few weeks now, I’m blank as to what to write. So I’m just gonna write what I feel like writing. I usually have a full post in my head before I sit down but today I’m just going to see what happens…

Thoughts have been wondering around as to where I am in life and where it’s going, also what lies in the future. It just seems dead, no direction, no cross roads to contemplate and goals to work for.

For the past few years life is at a standstill, we are still trying to get our heads round the three deaths that have taken place in our family, one after the other, six months apart on each one.

People spend a lifetime trying to come to terms with one and we are trying to come to terms with three, my parents, then my brother’s wife.

Life suddenly changed for me over night when we knew her illness was terminal. I suddenly realised that I was going to have to be strong for eveyone. Little did I know I would more or less end up living her life for her.

As time has gone on my own life seems to have disappeared, it no longer exists. The things I used to do and the people I used to know. Slowly everything has dwindled and her life has become mine. Her house I run. Her kids I look after. Her friends have become my friends… it just goes on and on…

There really is no “me” anymore.

Over night I became a rock and parent to my nieces and nephews, while they mourned the loss of their mother I tried to give them as much stability as possible. We had known 6 months earlier this day would come but nothing could have prepared for her loss.

My parents were elder and we all expect that one day our parents will go, all us siblings are grown up now, I’m the youngest in the family so their passing we could cope with, Her passing away has left us totally devastated, my brother can barely cope without her.

Even two years on he is still in a depressive daze. Communication between him and us is zilch. Over time the kids don’t even ask him for anything or expect anything from him, it’s me they come to for anything and everything. It’s like they don’t need him anymore and that scares me that these young kids have become so dependant on me that one day when I leave them to get on with my life again how will they cope.

The perfect solution would be for him to marry again and bring a step mother into the house, She would look after them all and be there as a permanent fixture and I could move on and be the person I am,not the one I have become.

It would be easy to say get up and go, but for some reason I feel I can’t walk out on them because I can clearly see they need me and have become very attached to me. When I look at their faces and think of what they have been through I know I can’t do that to them.

I know how they feel inside, their suffering, their fears and insecurities because when I was six I lost my own parents in a fatal car accident. I was left in care for years before I was finally adopted at the age of 10. I know what it’s like, I’ve been there. What I would have given for at least one of my aunts to have stepped forward and taken responsibility for me and provided me with some care, stability and somewhere to just call my own. What would I have given for someone to hear my cries at night and to come and hold me and tell me everything was going to be just fine. Just to hear someone say “It’s ok, don’t cry I’m here now” Someone to hold me so tight that it would take my breath away.

Yeah I coped and survived and it’s true I am here to tell the story. I am a survivor but you don’t just become one, it takes a lot to get here. To mentally grasp your situation, to put things into perspective, to live with a pain and emotions that you just wish weren’t there. And just when you think they are gone, you find yourself seeking them out because somewhere deep inside you still need to feel it time and time again. Because it’s a part of you and you fear if you let go you let go of everything and you will forget everything, every dam thought, every dam feeling, every dam pain. You have to be in control and forgetting is losing that control.

Then there are those times, you refuse to let yourself get emotional, you distance yourself from things so that you can cope with it. You get practical rather than emotional, stick to the facts, no don’t think about how much this is bothering you, hurting you or killing you. Just get on with it, it will pass, deep breaths then you will be fine.

If anyone asks how you are, smile, and say i’m fine, That’s it keep smiling.

What is normal?

I met and old friend today who looked at me very closely and said “You’re not looking normal these days!”

I asked her what do you call normal and she was a little stumped for words as I look rather annoyed at her.

I was serious what the hell do you call normal? and when will I be normal? coz when im called normal I don’t feel normal and I don’t want to be normal and when I want to be normal everyone tells me im not.

I remember when I was a rebellious child and boy, did I rebel! It was my mission to defy every authority and every rule that was put in my way. For some reason I wanted everyone to know that I wasn’t going to do as I was told. I mean why should I? Nobody understood me!

The more I rebelled and made everyone’s life hell the more they called me normal. When my social workers and school teachers held this massive meeting in which I was brought in and asked questions, they asked me to wait outside and I heard them talking. ( Note to adults.. if u wish to discuss a child make sure they can’t hear you, it seriously messes up their head! )

They called me “normal” and said this sort of behaviour was to be expected and it was nothing unusual especially considering my background.

Great I thought so why do they go out of their way to tell me off, punish me and have these massive meetings  about me if this was “normal and to be expected”. I was not a happy bunny on hearing this; because for some reason I didn’t feel normal at all, if anything I felt out of place and very angry at all of them.

I wanted to be like the others who appeared normal to me yet they kept saying I was!

So off I set with a mission to prove them wrong that I was not their “normal”. The more I was determined to show them I wasn’t the more they said I was.

To cut a long story short I think I made many people have nervous breakdowns, split hairs and pull nails out with despair but they still kept telling me how I was feeling was totally utterly  normal and it was nothing unusual. I think if I painted myself green and grew horns they would still have called me flipping normal

Now years on when I’m all grown and done all the things that were expected of me and am still doing everything that is expected of me. I have my degree and have become a successful in what I do. I am finally comfortable in my life, heart and soul. I have also come to terms with my childhood and past and I also think I’ve made amends in more ways than one. Yet now I’m told I’m not normal.

According to some, I’m hyper, highly strung, a recluse, unsociable and much more. They now say I am not normal and I look them in the eye and ask, well tell me what is normal? Because who would know the answer better than me?




How poor are you really?

One day a father of a very wealthy family took his son on a trip to the country with the firm purpose of showing his son how poor people can be. They spent a couple of days and nights on the farm of what would be considered a very poor family.

On their return from their trip, the father asked his son, “How was the trip?” “It was great, Dad.”

“Did you see how poor people can be?” the father asked.

“Oh Yeah” said the son.

“So what did you learn from the trip?” asked the father.

The son answered, “I saw that we have one dog and they had four. We have a pool that reaches to the middle of our garden and they have a creek that has no end. We have imported lanterns in our garden and they have the stars at night. Our patio reaches to the front yard and they have the whole horizon.

We have a small piece of land to live on and they have fields that go beyond our sight. We have servants who serve us, but they serve others. We buy our food, but they grow theirs. We have walls around our property to protect us, they have friends to protect them.”

With this the boy’s father was speechless. Then his son added, “Thanks dad for showing me how poor we are.”

Too many times we forget what we have and concentrate on what we don’t have. What is one person’s worthless object is another’s prize possession. It is all based on one’s perspective. Makes you wonder what would happen if we all gave thanks for all the bounty we have, instead of worrying about wanting more.

My Mean Mother!

Somewhere I once read that until your child doesn’t tell you they hate you, you are not doing a proper job of parenting. We would never have dreamt of saying such a thing to our parents but there were times I’ve felt it because of the restrictions etc that they put on us

I love this story and I bet it rings true to a lot of people and especially some parents out there…

I had the meanest mother in the whole world. While other kids ate candy for breakfast, I had to have cereal, eggs or toast. When others had cokes and candy for lunch, I had to eat a sandwich. As you can guess, my supper was different than the other kids’ also.

But at least, I wasn’t alone in my sufferings. My sister and two brothers had the same mean mother as I did.

My mother insisted upon knowing where we were at all times. You’d think we were on a chain gang. She had to know who our friends were and where we were going. She insisted if we said we’d be gone an hour, that we be gone one hour or less–not one hour and one minute. I am nearly ashamed to admit it, but she actually struck us. Not once, but each time we had a mind of our own and did as we pleased. That poor belt was used more on our seats than it was to hold up Daddy’s pants. Can you imagine someone actually hitting a child just because he disobeyed? Now you can begin to see how mean she really was. Continue reading

Quote of the day – A Generation Of Critics

Those who criticize our generation forget who raised it.

I really love this quote, and it reminds of people complaining about kids and how they behave and what their attitudes are like.

The recent riots certainly make a lot of people point fingers and then also made some step back and wonder.. who is really to blame…

We can say it’s the upbringing and the parents but a carpenter can only do his best with what tools he is given. So I do think the blame at times goes further and beyond in many ways.

A very short sentence with a very deep meaning….