Soul Dose

I'm such a bad person, I never pass on the awards I get and I've never followed the rules, it's just my blogging is so unstable, sometimes I go for weeks without blogging but luckily I made a list of all the awards and dates I got them, for my next blogging opportunity I promise to start doing my awards, following the rules and passing them to my nominees.

But one thing is true, every award I get is very special and I get so happy, humbled and feel honored, thank you to everyone and please expect proper thank yous starting next time I blog and I thank one post at a time, hope I can still find the rules.

Thank you everyone for putting up with this rule breaker and for reading my blog.

                                            Bye And Stay Beautiful

After my quest to find the right template I think I'll stick with this one for now and see how it works... I loved the previous one but it was too slow when I tried to open the site using my phone and since the phone is what I'm usually able to use I had to change it. I don't like that wooden thing though, maybe the search will continue.

I'll be having my first blog award show as soon as I can open a computer again and be able to look at it for longer than 10 minutes without the disturbing eye flashes again. I'll pass the award I received from my amazing blogging friends.

I slept a lot today, I got hurt emotionally and spent hours trying to forget but couldn’t, so I pulled up my covers and slept… I’m not good at crying, yes I know crying sometimes helps in relieving the pain but when I was young and was going through the experience that I went through I told myself no more crying, now I’m older and I do cry but not as much as I’d like to sometimes.

I’m sure you’re wondering what I went through when I was young because I keep referring to it and as much as I wanna talk about it I’m not ready. I’ve made a post once and saved it as a draft but deleted a day later… Something inside me keeps saying “girl you have got to talk about this, see how much talking about the illness has helped, surely talking about this will help as well”. Do I listen to my inner voice (which can be dumb sometimes) or keep blogging and taking it one day at a time? I think I’ll keep writing and taking it one day at a time, writing what my fingers are able to click on that day and letting tomorrow take care of itself…. For now I will tell you about the kleptomaniac in our mist.

Alright, we all know there are different types of people, some good, some bad and some floating in between. I have never been a fan of judging people and I try to keep my mouth shut most times (made a lot easier by the fact that I can’t talk anymore)… So I get hurt when someone purposely hurts me and does something I could never do to them, ever.

Today I was in my room as always minding my business, I was trying to come up with a secret language I could use to communicate with my nephew (This idea came from the wonderful Doraz who has an amazing blog Believe In Yourself, if you’ve never seen it you owe it to yourself to check her out trust me) I hope you're still willing to help D, I need ideas because I'm fresh out. Anyone else who has some easy and fun sign tips please tell me.

So there I was trying to create easy signs you can do with one hand because I can only use my right hand. My mother shouted she was leaving for work and I reach into this box where I keep my money. I wanted to give it to her so she can but a gift for Sbahle’s birthday. I had R630 in there which had been a “buy whatever you need” gift from Mom Ndu’s friend. I opened the box and to my horror I only had R30 left. Then I started thinking back, I remembered that I had last seen my money the previous day around 4pm just before the smoke drama (the house had started filing with smoke and gran could not see the source, she feared there was a fire somewhere). So whoever took my money took it during the fire drama when Gran asked Shivile to move me to his outside room while they tried to find the source of the smoke.

My heart just sank and mom tried to ask everyone who had been around at the time but we knew it was a waste of time and at the end we gave up… Here at Gran’s house money gets stolen a lot but it never stops being irritating.

(My Mr Man wasn’t even here and I couldn’t cry on his strong muscular ripped shoulder, ha ha ha. I’m kidding.) Hey a girl has to be a girl sometimes, lol.

I’m going back to my sleep now but I already feel a lot better than I did this morning, and writing really is great therapy…. Thanks for tolerating my rant.

Cheers and Stay Beautiful.

Hello my friends, I’d like to tell you a little bit more about my family so you can understand some other things I’ve wanted to write about but couldn’t because I knew you were gonna get confused.

This family is my mother’s side and that is where I grew up.

My grandfather (Elliot) married my grandmother (Mayvis) when she was 18 and I don’t know how old he was. It was 1957 according to my calculations. They had two daughters, Nomusa (my mother) in 1960 and Nondumiso in 1962 (my mom Ndu, she’s like a mother as well).

In 1973 or 1972 my Grandfather met and married another woman (Philippine). She became his second wife and when she came into the marriage she already had a daughter by an ex boyfriend, her name was Nompumelelo.

After they got married they had their first daughter Geli in 1974, then a son Msa in 1976, Msa was followed by another son Mdu in 1979 (he’s my favourite uncle and treats us all equally really), after Mdu came another boy Nkosingiphile in 1981 but we call him Shivile, Shivile was followed by a girl in 1983 Nontobeko but we call her Zinto, the last boy Siphesihle came in 1988.

The following year my grandfather passed away after a long illness but I was too young to understand and I still don’t know what illness he had.

In 1994 Msa was gunned down at night at a neighbours house.

Philippine also passed away in 1999 followed by her daughter nompumelelo in 2002.

My mother had three children, Lindelwa in 1981, Silindile in 1984 and Mandisi in 1985, yeah I know Mandisi came too close for comfort and stole my spot. I remind them of this sometimes when I’m up to something., ha ha ha.

Mom Ndu sadly didn’t have children, I believe she can still have one but only the man upstairs controls that.

All the children have had children of their own except me, Mandisi, Siphesihle, Mbali and Thobeka.

This is the full family from my mother’s side. They live in the same yard but two separate houses.

Sorry for the long post but there are things I’d like to write about especially as I tell parts of what happened to me. I’ve only told up to 2005 and would like to start taking it from there till I reach the part where I woke up and  for me to do it clearly I realized I needed to introduce everyone.

Starting tomorrow I’ll try to blog everyday and will continue the story starting from what happened after my coming of age celebration.

(As for my family on my father’s side we don’t know them very well and they haven’t been active in our lives. I haven’t seen any of them since I woke up and it hurts but it’s life, as long as my father is here I‘m happy)

Cheers and stay beautiful, inside and out.

Today's post is different, it's not focused on my struggle with illness and journey into healing, well it is a little but today's post is mainly about love. Yes love, the one thing I've always been terrible at. Maybe it's because I've always known what I wanted, maybe it's because I avoided it because of my childhood experience, maybe I hadn't found the 'core shaking' kind of love but whatever the reason I still sucked at it. And now, I'm hopelessly in love and don't know what to do.

Here are  the details of my badly timed fall in this thing called love, how I've found myself smack bam in the middle of this thing I know is doomed to fail if it ever starts.... Alright, let me stop beating about the bush and get to the point before I freak out and delete this post.

The year was 1998, I was 14 years old and doing Grade 9. I had never had a boyfriend, let alone a crush and to be honest boys were still not in my head, but you can see how I looked back then from the picture (That's my sister, myself, gran and my brother)

I remember my sister was in Matric ans exams were around the corner, there was this neighbor guy of ours who happens to be extremely smart, he's a whiz in Maths and just about everything and my sister's Maths skills left a lot to be desired, so she asked the guy to help her during the holidays before she had to go back to boarding school. Being the greatest that he was he came and tutored her............................................... Before that day I can honestly say I had never seen the guy, he was a neighbor but hadn't been hanging out with kids like us.

That day I looked up, saw this guy and butterflies started flying around in my stomach, ladybugs, and every flying thing was in there I tell you. My mouth went all dry and this crush hit me out of nowhere, it developed that day and I knew it was stupid because the guy was about 7 years older than me and would've never been interested in a kid like me. But  I'm  sure everyone who has had a crush know how they work, you see the person and you fantasize and dream you afternoons away, that's what I did and oh, the guy I'm talking  about is so gorgeous, he is simply beautiful and I hope he doesn't kill me but here's a little glimpse at him before I go on.

That's Mr Man, can you really blame a then 14 year old girl for wanting some of that? The man is hot.

Anywhozer, the crush intensified and to avoid it I avoided him, but that didn't last. Soon we became friends and time went on we became best friends...... We both had relationships with other people and had this friendship with each other. Though everyone else who knew us didn't buy the whole "We're Just Friends" thing but truly we were and somewhere between going to school and having my first serious boyfriend my crush disappeared and it was a relief.

Sometimes things got weird between us because we had this sexual tension that wouldn't go away, but were both unsure how to proceed, there were moments of nearly kissing but something would make us stop. And frankly we were just scared, yes embarrassing is it sounds it's true.. We loved each other though, so much that he was my number one and I was his, you know those unspoken things that are shown in subtle gestures..................... My Matric Dance was approaching and it was assumed my boyfriend was gonna be my partner, except I didn't have a boyfriend at the time and didn't wanna share that information.

So my gran (knowing Mr Man and I were the closest people since Romeo And Juliet) asked him to be my partner but she forgot too tell me about it. Mr Man said he'd love to and she forgot to pass on that message as well, I blame her old  age here. As you know I went to an All Girl Boarding School Inanda Seminary and our partners would come from outside, the only time the school allowed boys in.................. The day came, I was dateless and so I went to my sister's Residential Room at Varsity trying to escape but she convinced me to attend my dance. I confessed I had no date and she said go I'll find you a date and send him to meet you in school. Varsity was closing for the holidays and almost everyone had gone home, so my soldier sister went knocking on any room trying to find an available guy to come save me from Dateless Humiliation.

Ha ha ha I remember seeing  the guy at a taxi rank while waiting in line with my friends, and I could have never guessed he was my date. We got to school and had to walk down this long avenue. When we reached the gate this guy walks to me and says in the slowest voice " Surprise Surprise I'm your date".. Needless to say my Mr Man wasn't my date, I didn't even know he had been asked but it created some tension between us for a little while.... Wee both knew he should have been y date, we also knew that we could have  finally gotten together but what was done was done.

The following year I found myself studying in the same University as my friend Mr Man, we got even closer and when I was robbed at gun point carrying his cellphone and the robbers taking my money and his expensive phone  I spent a few weeks running and hiding from him, till one day he found me and said "Walk With Me". I was so scared but we sat on the ground in school and he said "A phone I can replace, but I only have one you", No one had ever said something like that to me, no one.

And then I got sick when I was doing my Second Year, when that happened he was already working at Cape Town and it's very far.

What I'll Write From This Point On Is Taken From Messages Inn My Phone, Writings On My Now Destroyed Diary, My Trusted Family, My Friends, My Computer And Him.

When I got sick he was in Cape Town and when I realized the sickness was serious and not passing I picked up my phone and told him something wasn't right. I already couldn't speak at the time so he called my mother and she told me, he then put airtime in my phone so we could exchange phone messages, we did this for weeks, daily chatting and him saying the perfect things.

On December holidays he came back and came to see me,that was the first time I really cried, he held me and I  cried for over an hour just. Before he arrived I was scared he was gonna change because of how I was, I feared he was gonna judge me like the most people were judging me at the time and are still judging, I feared he was gonna take one look at me, see the fainting and the vomiting and the falling off the bed and everything else and he was gonna make an excuse and leave but instead he sat next to me, picked me up and held me as I cried, he wiped me when I foamed in my mouth, he asked what to do when I fainted and he did it, he brought me an Usher Cd because he knew how obsessed I am with him and we spent hours together. Those whole holidays were spent in my room next to me, talking, making silly jokes, teasing me in our own cool way and was there, always there.

One day my brother moved me to the veranda and mom stayed with me so she could call him when the shaking started. We sat and did that routine for a few hours, then my brother disappeared for a while and little old me shook and the thing they used to tie me to thee chair snapped and I went flying to the floor. My mother managed to help me breathe again but she couldn't lift me back to my chair. I gave her my hand, she placed my phone on it and I called my Mr Man. He was kilometers away in Durban but rushed back to pick me up, he got to me, picked me up, carried me to my room and that day our feelings were revived, but I was too sick and he was too scared of what people would think of him.

It's been over 6 years now and he has been by my side every step of the way, he goes above and beyond to make sure I'm happy and when he's around and not working we have so much fun laughing like crazy people..... This man has never judged me, he has never looked at me differently and he believes I'll pull through this. He treats me like a woman, a queen even and he sees the soul within, he's the only one who can touch it and I'm in love with him but it's not that simple.

He has his fears and concerns, I have my fears and concerns........................... First can a relationship survive with one person off working in Johannesburg and the other sick in bed? He also fears my family will say he's taking advantage of me, the world will judge us. A relationship I'm part of will be challenging, it would not include intimacy and that's not fair on him... But with all those fears the truth still remains, he's my Mr Man and part of me wants to take a chance.

The prince has spoken,

his word is law,

for he is the wisest,

cutest prince in all the land.

I was with my nephew and gave him the honor of naming my gift from Doraz.

He thought about it in a princely wise way, and asked is this baby my little sister?

I had to laugh at that line but thought it was too cute.

Then he said, loud and clear "Pearl"

So there you have it, who am I to go against a prince's word?

Meet Pearl Ntuli

Whenever I see mom's old pictures I remember how easier life was when she could stand up and balance on her cane... She got sick in 1980/81 I'm not too sure, but only went full paralyzed in 1998... She got married to my dad in 1995 and they refused to make my brother their ring bearer and me their flower girl, they said we were too hyper.

That's me on my Matric Dance, kinda like the American Prom.

I've spent these last few days in the past, I've been thinking about my life before that damn day that changed it all, thinking about what was............... What could have been......................... And what is.

If I'm honest, soul cleansing honest I have to say I was not living the life I would've been proud of when it was all said and done. I was alive, I was walking around but truth be told I  haven't felt alive till this year. I had my life and it looked perfect but I was a walking corpse who smiled the broadest to cover her pain in misery. I didn't show people the real me, covered in what I thought was coolness but now I see I was living a lie and daily getting more attached to my lie.

You see as a child I lost faith in humankind really, something tragic happened to me and kept on happening till I lost myself............. I'm not ready to talk about this part of  my life but I 'm trying to give you a picture of why some following events happened........ I won't make it an excuse though.

So there I was, a confused, sad lonely and scared girl, surrounded by girls in this All Girl boarding school called Inanda Seminary (In my opinion the best school you can take your girl child to, they not only teach the books stuff but they guide future women and make them strong independent ladies with style, respect and a grace) Ha ha ha I just blew my own horn back there, it's always nice to stroke my own ego every now and then.

Because of some things I'm not ready to get into I started covering up my pain by focusing on my hyper-activeness, wow I am so hyper (like Hammy on Over The Hedge), I figured if I laughed more and smiled more no one would see I wasn't a very happy girl, and soon the smiling got so easy and felt natural, hell I was happy........... But at night in my bed asleep, well that was another story, my dreams haunted me and pinned me to my sheets.

I couldn't take it anymore, so I shut down and disconnected from myself, I disconnected from the soul within and started living day to day just to keep the ball rolling. I felt no passion, no  fire, I was just breathing air in and out because my body was doing it.

This next line might shock you or make you roll your eyes while the words" oh please" roll out your tongue but believe me I mean them........................ I'm very sick yes, I'm stuck in bed sure, half the time I can't breathe yup, I'm battling time definitely but I've never felt so alive in my life. I have so much life in me and fire and love and the smile on my face is always heartfelt. I'm finally free to be myself, I'm finally rid of the nightmares and I'm finally living my truth.

Being sick sucks big time, but it has taught me the value of living and I'm gonna live to the max. I've learned that the past is the past, what matters is now and right now I'm happy, I'm alive and I'm smiling from the inside out, smile with me...........!!!!!

Remember to live as if the world is about to end.......................

It's 02:37am and I can't sleep, since I first woke up with my amnesia and all this I seem to have developed something else that's quiet annoying: Insomnia. I'm telling you I don't sleep and I hate it.

                             A girl needs her beauty sleep.

But insomnia gives me a chance to think and yesterday I was thinking about blessing. Yeah I made the mistake of mentioning them to someone and the response I got was rather hurtful.

The conversation went like this..... But in Zulu

Me:                                  You know I was thinking about how blessed I am.

Other Person:               What kind of blessings could you possibly be talking about?

Me:                                   Look at me, I have a loving family, they've cared for me all these years without complaining, they haven't taken me to a place where nurses could do the taking care of  and left me there. I'm clean and though I'm not 100% content I'm also not totally miserable.

Other Person:               OK. what else?

Me:                                  I'm alive, I've been hearing about how many times I've come close to dying, half the time I can't even breathe but look  I'm still alive. My brain  still works fine even though this constant oxygen supply is not good for it. And the best part is I'm registered at school and will write my exams this month come hell or high water.

Other Person:              But don't say you're blessed, at least say you're  still alive and leave it there.

Me:                                 Because?

Other Person:              Look I'm not saying this the wrong or rude way I'm only trying to tell you what I think. you spend all your days in bed, you can't even change positions without assistance, you can't turn your head... I wouldn't call those blessings. You should be angry, I sometimes get angry thinking of how much you've missed out of when I see people your age walking around.

The conversation went on but what stood out for me was hearing I "should be" angry, my thoughts are angry at what and what will it solve? I coulld scream and shout and spend my life angry but it won't do me any good... I'll still wake up and experince the same aches and pains, I'd still run around from doctor to doctor with no luck, this would still be my reality and living in anger is not a good idea.

Truth is I truly am blessed. Each time I'm in pain, each time I can't breathe, each time my feet develop sores, whenever I get my massive headaches and blood starts running out my nose....... Whenever a lot more stuff happens God  protects me, he has protected me for years and if that's not a blessing I don't know what is.

The fact that I can open a book when I'm feeling better and study a few pages is a blessing, because my CA dream is still alive. Being able to study towards it is a blessing bonus and yes I might not write all 4 papers but I plan on writing 2 or more...... I'll show y'all my results when they come out in December and the beauty is I'll write in the comfort of my own home. Unisa will send  an invigilator  to watch while I write and then take my paper back to the University (to avoid cheating and all.

To conclude I wanna say yeah my life is not what I dreamed it will be, but I'm making  the best of my situation because it is my reality...... Do I like this life? Of course not, I want more for myself but till then I will live, I will study, I will believe and I will keep counting my blessings.

Since I started this website it has helped me in a way I never imagined.... But the best part is writing about my current illness state. I have very hard days and taking my laptop and writing what I feel knowing someone out there might read and maybe find strength in my story gives me strength in a way you wouldn't believe.

All my life I've kept things hidden, I taught myself to suffer in silense and never show weakness. I bottled things up and even though I knew it was killing me slowly I was so used to it I had made it my best friend... It's hard to give up your best friend and I wasn't gonna, till one day I learned about blogging. At first I thought hell to the big fat no, but then I started thinkiung and weighing the pros and cons. The pros quickly squashed the cons I found myself with my glasess, fingers on the keyboard and typing away my thought.

I found it liberating, I found it theraputic and I found it slowly becoming my new best friend.

                                                          I'd like to say

                                              Thank you to the people

                                           Who take their time to read

                                       Whatt I write, thank you for listening.

                                      You have no idea how comforting it is

                                          to know that someone out there

                                                might be listening to me

                                                  As I fight this battle.

Thank you all................................................... Maybe I've said this but these days are hard for me, the illness is a bit harsh and I'm trying to deal with it. But I will try to update the website everyday if I eel strong enough.

I'm not feeling good these days, I'm having breathing problems and a headache that just won't quit. Maybe I think too much, maybe I stress too much and maybe, just maybe I need a vacation.... Ha ha ha I can imagine what my folks would say if I mentioned it, my brother would have non of that. But on a more serious note, these days aren't treating me very well, I'm up all hours and I've seen a few doctors but they give me your usual injection that stings my arm and irritates me (II'm not a fan of injectioons)... I don't blame them, I don't blame anybody but this illness that is still ruling my life after all these years.

All this time I've been spending thinking about my past before the illness even started. Though I'm not ready to blog about my childhood I am gonna write a bit here and there, after all my mom did tell me that a writen word is far stronger and healing than a spoken word, please don't be surprised if I drag you back to the time when I was a mini me... Once I'm ready to deal with that part of my life I will write about it. Today I'd like to tell you about my fears.

• I'm terrified of thunderstorms, one sounds and I ask somebody to stay with me because it really scares me. Just look at that thing, it's no joke.

• Ah let me see, oh I'm also not a spider person, I've seen television programs saying most spiders are harmless but for me a spider is a spider is a spider, I'm even scared of those tall ones with skinny legs that everyone brushes aside wiithout any thought.

• Losing my mother... She has been a very strong woman and an example for me since I was born, but now she gets sick all the time and I'm not ready to see her getting weaker, she's superwoman to me and I'd like her to stay that way forever. Below is her picture taken after her 6 months stay in hospital, she went straight to work.
  

That's it, those are the only things I'm afraid of.. Ok I'm not saying I'm some die hard who wouldn''t run when a giant anaconda chased her, of course I'd run but what would I be doing at a place crawling with anacondas in the first place?

Stay well and enjoy your day

I really appreciate comments, in fact I love them... Fell free to comment and speak your mind.

I will answer after every new one and I won't be offended by honest opinions.

I was dare to write a blog entry using my title and making it sound like something so I started thinking but nothing could come to mind, I think palpable means something obvious. So we got the first part handle but the rest put together still confuses me.

Lets break it down, palpable being the obvious, we can conclude that a palpable is the antidote for civilization means the obvious is the antidote for civilization. I'm just even more confused now, let me shut up before I make a fool of myself.

This entry falls under all categories and under non of them, it is me having some thoughts I'd like to put down about well one specific day way back in 1996.. I came home that day from school, I was in Grade 7 and let me point out that I was the best student in my class from Grade one right through to Grade 12, only Maths bothered me but everything else was like a hobby.I don't remember studying but come exam and I'll ace it, ooohhhh those were good times. Anyhoo on this particular day, I remember it so well, it was a very hot day and my uniform was black, disaster.

I got home and found mama sitting in the kitchen making my younger brother and I after school snacks, I threw my book bag down and started scrapping ice from the sides of the freezer (disgusting I know but I was 11yrs old and didn't think it was) Mom pointed it out though but I ignored her... This entry isn't about that so let me get back to the point. I took off the uniform and came back to eat, mom asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up. Back then kids would say Doctor/Nurse/Teacher and that was it, I said nurse and mom asked really? I asked her to tell me in informative detail about all the professions she knew and so mama started talking.

She told me about different engineers and what they did, she told me about a lawyer, about marketing, about IT and then she opened her mouth, she said the two words that changed my thinking and in just two words, nursing was out the window and I shouted "that's it mama, that's what I wanna be when I grow up". The words were CHARTERED ACCOUNTANT and the second I heard it I just knew I wanted to be one and couldn't wait to raise my hand and shout it out next time my teacher asked. I knew I had found my goal and I was so happy as I waited for my dad to get home so I could tell him. I had something to look forward to, something to work towards and I swore I was gonna get there one day.

That fire is still burning and the dream is alive inside.

Let me start off by saying this entry has nothing to do with my illness, as you will see I will write about other things because let me tell you I have lots of opinion, I have lots to say just about everything... My family says I talk too much it's as if I swallowed a radio or a tv, ok they are going a bit too far but they aren't entirely joking here, I talk, I'm a talker, the good kind of talker if I say so myself.. What do I mean about that, simple, I mean I talk about good things, I talk the good kind of talk and never behind anyone's back... Ok maybe back when I was in high school I had those gossip moments but I've taken off that hat now and I'm loving it.

See that picture, that's me at the back with a friend of mine in 2001, we were doing matric and were on a french class outing, yup you heard right, I did french in South Africa, oh how the world has shrunk.

That's me again on the left with another friend of mine, that was our matric dance.... I designedb my own dress by the way.

That's me with my nephew, he was born December 2002, so he was less than 6 months there... The whole outfit he's wearing I bought it for him, I love that little guy, pity I don't remember his whole childhood.

What's all this you wonder, you see I'm showing you guys that I wasn't born paralysed, I had a full life till March 17, before then I was a normal girl with big dreams.