Every end is a beginning. (Gratitude 18/150)

I had wondered for a long time when a relationship, or marriage was past it save by date.

The day came and had gone like any other, but as I sat in the lounge alone that night I knew this was the end of an 11 year relationship. I kept thinking that I did not want my sons to think this is what marriage was all about.

Kev was about to turn 4 and Liam James was a baby. It was one of the most difficult processes to go through that divorce, but standing outside the court room many months later, the most immense feeling of freedom, even joy!

I am grateful for the strength and courage to keep going during very hard times, the love of my little boys and my inner belief that we would be okay..and we are in abundance {with thanks to all who helped me raise the brothers and made our lives more meaningful in so many ways.}.

I wish you enough my sons and always remember I love you so.

Mom x

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So, have you heard about the oyster who went to a disco and pulled a mussel? (Gratitude 17/150)

I have finally found something I can give the x-person, who is Scottish credit for. The x-person being my first x husband, not to be confused with my second ex husband. I refer to my second ex husband as Brian, well cause, that’s his name… and then my current husband Noid, which I sincerely wish, trust and hope is my last because they don’t say fourth time lucky, now do they?

I am not the most politically correct Wench I ever did meet, so when the x-person introduced me to Billy Connolly I was well, that will do me!!… . I’m have a bit of a daft attitude towards what others think of me particularly… and rather fond of the word fuck, so I was set for live.

One of the things I am very grateful for is humour and the comedy of Billy Connolly. I have CD’s of Billy in my car, I have clips on my cell phone… if there is anybody in the world I would like to have dinner with, with all due respect to Mr. Mandela whom I am very fond off, Billy’s beats the Pope and Mother Teresa hands down!

I’ve read Billy’s autobiography and off course the follow up book and if you take where this man came from and where he ended up, I feel hope for every poor bloody soul in the world. This man made a success from being abused, poverty and looking at his life had no reason to live. Billy gives me hope besides laughing so hysterically that Kevin has asked me to pull over!

Billy has that accent I so love, the wild hair, the who gives a shit way of dressing and I am thankful for people like Billy Connolly who takes every day sadness and turns it into something to laugh at, to make light out of horror…. okay look I did particularly enjoy the joke about the suicide bomber instructor who said… “well look here boys, I am only gonna show you this once…..”

I love you Billy. There has been times in my life where you laughed with me to get me through the night so that I could see light, because you have seen darkness too. With gratitude.

 
It’s the woman’s movement. Woman are demanding things. “Give me things! Do things to me! Do exotic things and plenty of them. Tonight, I think I’ll have multiple orgasms”. And I go fucking hell, what? What’s that? “Go for it my boy! Plenty of orgasms, I’ll tell you when to stop”. No sooner had we found the clitoris that we were in search of the g-spot. I don’t think you could find that with a wet suit and a divers helmet. I know gynaecologists that don’t believe in it. You see it’s difficult to be a man. I mean the mens movement in America is taking the country by storm. Right, people and all meeting, but you see films of the woman’s movement… “We want this! And that. We demand a share in that, and most of that, some of this and fucking all of that. Less of that, more of this and fucking plenty of this. And another thing we want it now. I want it yesterday and I want fucking more tomorrow. And the demands will all be checked then so fucking stay awake.”

Brown paper packages tied up with string (16/150)

“Ek het al gesien toe jy nog n kannetjie was jy pas net in jou eie boksie.” -my Mom, Yvonne

Translated it means that since I was little, I only fitted in my own box, according to my Mom. You could not make me do anything I didn’t want to.

My Mammie and I.

Was part of a conversation I was having with my Mom on whatsapp. If you are new to my blog you will not know that I don’t speak on the phone. Not even to my Mom. It makes me anxious….. Something drastic has to happen for me to answer the phone or dial a number… so bbm, sms, email, whatsapp are all good communication methods for me.

It has been an odd time for me with this stupid illness, trying to be a Mom and a dear wife {which is what my sexy husband calls me}, an employee, a sister, a friend…. all the things I am for various people.

I never know how I will feel on any given day. It is frustrating in the extreme and emotionally a roller coaster for everyone in my life, especially for my husband who takes good care of me {imagine the stress and worry about finances alone ~ what will our future hold?} and my kids who try and fill in the cracks, especially Kev who is so aware of when I am okay or not.

My Mom in law who helped so much with Noid’s 40th, my sister in law, Jenni who just started chopping salad when we ran out…. My Mom, Yvonne and my sisters, Rentia and Mary-Ann who I have grown closer to because we can talk on bbm, learn about each other on Face Book. Even my parents in law who sat and talked to me, sharing wisdom because they care. I love you all.

Rentia is 3 years younger than me and my only biological sibling. She is very tall, much louder than me and makes me laugh.

Mary-Ann is 7 years younger than me (we share a birthday) and we met for the first time in March of this year. We have the same dad, who died when I was 11.

The hugely amazing faithful friends I have at work who has gone out of their way to carry my load when I simply couldn’t or just made contact to let me know they care, everyone of you but especially Mercia and Jaxie who has wiped my tears and celebrated good days with me. You are pearls in my invisible crown.

Even my bosses {especially Grim who is always so faithful in his support, encouragement and understanding. I do love you Boss with admiration and appreciation. He is a good man.} has been incredible.

Not sure what I did to deserve so much love, but thank you. My appreciation knows no limits.

In dire emotional, physical or financial spaces there remains so much to be thankful for.

  • I am alive and my Mom tells me her Bible says wonderfully made. I don’t think her Bible has seen me naked.
  • I still have a job that I love and one I feel secure in, regardless.
  • Our new kitten Lady Cayte is settling in and not so scared anymore…. and finally has finally figured out what the litter box is for.
  • My step daughter, Jenna-Lee turns 8 today! Happy birthday sweetheart.
  • I have a husband who loves me and kids who bring me joy {most of the time, this is not a Hallmark card afterall}.
  • Jason and Cindy who are such good company and wonderful friends.
  • Mel who always does my tax, I have a Tranquil Body Treats order to say thank you.
  • All my Tranquil Body Treats customers! Thanks for your loyal support.
  • Oh, I did update my who the hell am I page. Go check it out.
  • I am thankful for the chance to try again tomorrow!

I wish you enough,

Love,
Wenchy

PS. DO leave a message, it is so nice to hear from you.

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ϻiϛϛinԍ ϻų ßãƅų Ɠãԍã (Gratitude 14/150)

I never expected to be a cat lady. I make fun of single woman with cats and during my divorce I often said oh shit, that’s gonna be me! Mom even bought me a stuffed cat as a joke!

Then a married me met, ϻų ßãƅų Ɠãԍã. Unexpectedly I fell in love with her because she looked so vulnerable. I picked up a kitten for the first time and I cried. I am thankful that my 38 year dislike for animals turned to compassion.

Noid and I went shopping as if I was about to give birth. I am thankful Noid humoured my first ever pet experience.

ϻų ßãƅų Ɠãԍã came home. Everyone loved her and she was so sweet. She was not overly playful, she never ate lots and was cuddled lots. I just loved her.

Day before yesterday, around 6pm she was sleeping on my lap while I was working. Next moment she jumped up and had a seizure, lying on the ground shivering. I called Kev who she slept with at night and raced to the vet.

The vet examined her and immediately very kindly said her liver is failing and there was nothing we could do. He suggested we admit her overnight but made it clear we were just buying time.

I just couldn’t leave her. We took the meds, fed her with a syringe and made her comfortable. Kev was clearly upset.

On the morning of dear Victoria’s 12th birthday, ϻų ßãƅų Ɠãԍã had deteriorated excessively. She could not hold her own body weight up. I just cried. It was difficult as we knew we had no choice to sing happy birthday to Victoria and have the kids say goodbye.

ϻų ßãƅų Ɠãԍã, my Noid and I went to the vet. I cried. It was horrible. My only feeling that I didn’t want ϻų ßãƅų Ɠãԍã to be in pain. The vet confirmed her liver had failed and there was nothing we could do to make her better. I felt heart broken.

I held and kissed ϻų ßãƅų Ɠãԍã… and the vet took her away.

I am very thankful that I had the time I did with ϻų ßãƅų Ɠãԍã. I finally understood how much a animal could mean to a human, a life lesson to be honest.

Victoria’s bbm status said how much she love ßãƅų Ɠãԍã and that she hoped she liked kitty heaven.

ϻų ßãƅų Ɠãԍã…… Today I kept hearing your bell all day. I missed caring for you, holding you and stroking you. I am grateful you were here, even for a short time.

I cried for you.

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Us of the craft (Gratitude 13/150)

Although I only came to live with my Mom after my father died when I was 11, I am thankful that somehow in my teenage years my Mom had the genius to let me be.

At 11 I pierced my ears for the second time and cut my very long hair off… mostly because I thought my father would be so cross, he would come back. Two decades later the man is still dead, that’s willpower for you!

At 14 I decided to colour my hair. Although I have not seen my natural colour since, I assure you it is much, much lighter than the dark hair I prefer, hence you also colour your eyebrows and wax or shave the rest.

I went for pitch, witch craft black…. dated a bit of a pink rocker {who would later be divorce #1} wore very little clothes, as I only became the size of an African country later in life, and made my face as light as possible with red lips. My Mom suggested stockings for my bare legs….I wore and tore them for effect.

Much like my Kevin I was a very independent teenager. I studied, I got good marks, I went clubbing and was responsible. I did my own thing.

For some reason my AWB upbringing didn’t gel with my soul and I rebelled politically which caused many comments. I couldn’t understand how anyone could declare themselves superior based on the colour of their skin…. and that includes the right to follow a religion of your choice and have sex with whom you choose {personally I draw the line at goats}. I detested that a censor committee got to choose for me what I could read or watch. Fuck off with that idea.

Anyhow, today as I sit here in my fanty house, my very normal husband with gorgeous thighs and many, many children and a cat !! with a respectable hairstyle {me, not the Baby Baby Gaga} in a normal colour… I cherish the bright red stripe in it. I thank my Mom who let me be me and always said what I wore or did, she always reminded herself during my teenage years especially that I had a good heart and a generous spirit…. what I wear may have people judge her and me, but I remained the same person inside, always. She didn’t like what I wore, but it was always my choice how I expressed myself and my journey to find out who I am deep inside.

My poor Mom must have sighed a sigh of relief when I became a Mom and did normal things….. If you call twice divorced and an elopement normal. LOL In my 30’s her sigh got louder with each tattoo I had added, eventually asking me if I think I am a colouring in book…. {15 tattoos later}

I have tried really hard not to raise cookie cutter kids…. It makes their lives harder as they are opinionated, sometimes cross boundaries and don’t necessarily follow the best, nor most appropriate route… but I like to believe they are free thinkers {besides being bloody bonkers!} who have good hearts and generous spirits… and they will find their way in the world.

Thanks Mom that it wasn’t an issue to pencil in a beauty spot like Marilyn Monroe on my wall and that at 38 I still think conformity is for people with no imagination.

Lord Byron did say us of the craft are crazy….. now to figure out what the craft is?

Oupa Mike always laughed and said if I was told go left, I will be sure to make a right turn. :) I think I found my way and Toto we not in Kansas anymore!

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Which of the me’s is me? The wild, impulsive, chaotic, energetic, and crazy one? Or the shy, withdrawn, desperate, suicidal, doomed and tired one? (Gratitude 12/150)

 

Gemini, naturally bi-polar? :) This I don’t know for sure, but I do know the elation of extreme highs and the lowest darkness you cannot begin to imagine… unless like me you suffer from a mood disorder, amongst other things or hallucinate – I don’t have that party trick. No, I am not referring to being female. *wink* 

I have been to both poles, have you?

First diagnosed with manic depression and anxiety attacks at the age of 14, and later as the medical profession became more sophisticated, Bi-polar II (yes, you even get different types – none is more fragrant than the other however) and Generalised Anxiety Disorder with extreme anxiety.

I have been on and off medication since. I have been called everything from mad, to excentric, to different to fucking mental to bonkers, to interesting, to larger than life to …….. – none offend me I assure you. Funny how most mentally ill will take medication for all types of illness, no problemo but fuck can we fight against taking happy pills. The stigma, nobody must know ’cause they will think us weak, please wrap my package in brown paper! or heaven help us, people may think we mad! Fuck that. As far as I am concerned plenty people go undiagnosed who should be bloody medicated!!!! 

Personally I am openly bi-polar, I speak about depression and anxiety attacks – I may lighten the mood with my quirks at work some days but it takes a very long time and confidence to be open about it. If I had AIDS, I would like to believe I would act similarly…. you see in me blogging about illness, talking about it without shame or embarrassment it allows others to gain confidence that they are no less because medically they are labelled. There is no difference in being diabetic than being bi-polar! You would feel no shame in sharing you need insulin would you?

True, I would not at the start of an interview say, “Oh and btw, I’m bleeding bonkers” but hell if they hadn’t figured out yet by looking at me, my ability to do my job well should have them worrying less. This said my friend Suzette says I am not allowed to use the scissors unsupervised. :) hahahahahah

This issue is what I get the most e-mail about. So many readers hiding in the mental closet. Hey, if gay people can get married and be proud, why do you feel you need to live in darkness?

Mania is wonderful, dangerous but oh so glorious. It is what I call feeling bullet proof – I can do ANYTHING. I can conquer the world and a find a new frontier while I am at it. I work like a demon, I would spend more willingly (I am not a big spender) and my actions are erratic, unrealistic, busy, not dangerous to anyone but I’m HIGH for sure. High on life, love, sex, eating – elation. That part of bi-polar is fabulous! You can’t get enough. Duracell bunny has nothing on you! You rearrange cupboards, move furniture around, fetch post for the first time in months, actually take the debt collectors call, you phone that principle back who wants to complain about your mini-me kid…. you want to do the 702 big walk, you want to see, feel, taste, smell everything and the entire world is in blue ray with surround sound and you love it! I may even answer the phone! haha!

The down – not so much fun. You give one word answers. Getting out of bed is an achievement. You give your kids a cupcake for breakfast that you would never usually do but it is the least fuss and frankly lets avoid all and any conflict. You feel invincible (and I am nogal hard to miss), a deep sadness and a void so big the twin towers could have ended up in your soul and you experience the horror, fear and eventually an evil sadness. It steals your joy, things you love doing you suddenly don’t care about. You can watch paint dry if everyone would just leave you the hell alone. You are horrible company, cry with your sunglasses on cause you don’t want attention or to be asked “what’s wrong” because you don’t know what’s wrong dammit!!! …….can’t they see its the end of the world? “Snap out of it” is words that will turn your depression into violence and “tomorrow is another day” is equally condescending. Fuck off you wanna say but energy is lacking. Is crap, right that moment you hope to never see tomorrow. You consider suicide but that would mean at least getting off the bed to go find pills (my choice, my right hand is not proper due to the bone illness to wrist cutting is out of the question and guns are so violent, makes a mess and I don’t own one!)

Then somehow, after doing nothing special….you slowly creep back out again and next minute you are spinning the wheel, the lights are flashing, you won the jackpot, you sun bath nude and life is abundant in colours and excitement.

Bi-polar the rollercoaster for the brave.

So – you medicate because if you have to tell one more psychologist your life story you may as well write the book without hiding the identity of those that will need to be placed in witness protection. What medication does for me is to give me a middle ground. Not excessively HIGH and not suicidal LOW…. it gives me balance and controls my anxiety levels – I’m less fun in my opinion, more numb but nicer to live and work with since you go between mania and depression so often – it makes me more predictable (mediocre ugh). I get anxious easily and need reassurance often – a pain in the ass. For that reason I sometimes think I shouldn’t have married ever, I should never have had kids, I should have been a nun, except I’m only Catholic on Friday’s to eat fish and I like sex….. God and me… we also have issues, so that wouldn’t have worked out well. Sorry God! …This is my thought pattern purely because I am hard work at times (not always) and I find it devastating to think who I am is a burden. I hate owing anyone anything and don’t want them wasting their time thinking they can cure me, put me back to together again.

All the kings horses and all the kings men couldn’t put Wenchy back together again if they tried! I was never meant to be together. I was meant to be ME,  to share my story so somebody else can feel less shame in a world where we constantly bombarded with what is “normal”, to be more “positive” and not be humble enough to say “Hey… we ALL HAVE ISSUES, these happen to be mine and I am doing the best I can – sometimes even I am normal and positive!”

In short let me give you some medical background to understand why madness doesn’t offend me – it explains how my body was put together – but IT DOES NOT DEFINE WHO I AM AS A PERSON

Bipolar disorder is a physical illness marked by extreme changes in mood, energy and behaviour. That’s why doctors classify it as a mood disorder.

 Bipolar disorder – which is also known as manic-depressive illness and will be called by both names throughout this publication – is a mental illness involving episodes of serious mania and depression. The person’s mood usually swings from overly “high” and irritable to sad and hopeless, and then back again, with periods of normal mood in between.

Mood swings that come with bipolar disorder are severe, ranging from extremes in energy or “highs” to deep despair. The severity of the mood swings and the way they disrupt normal activities distinguish clinical mood episodes from ordinary mood changes. ”  

but wait, there is more! :)

Generalised Anxiety Disorder (GAD) is much more than the normal anxiety people experience day-to-day. Chronic and exaggerated worry and tension, even though nothing seems to provoke it. Having this disorder means always anticipating disaster, often worrying excessively about health, money, family, or work. Even though sometimes the source of the worry is hard to pinpoint. Simply the thought of getting through the day provokes anxiety.

Generalised anxiety disorder is characterised by feelings of threat, restlessness, irritability, sleep disturbance, and tension, and symptoms such as palpitations, dry mouth, and sweating. These symptoms are recognised as part of the anxiety syndrome rather than independent complaints. The symptoms overlap greatly with those of other common mental disorders and we could regard the disorder as part of a spectrum of mood and related disorders rather than an independent disorder.”

http://www.sadag.org/

Today I am thankful that I do have the capability to reach others and to say out loud, “ME TOO, YOU ARE NOT ALONE.”

“There is a particular kind of pain, elation, loneliness, and terror involved in this kind of madness. When you’re high its tremendous. The ideas and feelings are fast and frequent like shooting stars, and you follow them until you find better and brighter ones. Shyness goes, the right words and gestures are suddenly there, the power to captivate others a felt certainty. There are interests found in uninteresting people. Sensuality is pervasive and the desire to seduce and be seduced irresistible. Feelings of ease, intensity, power, well-being, financial omnipotence, and euphoria pervade one’s marrow. But, somewhere, this changes. The fast ideas are far too fast, and there are far too many; overwhelming confusion replaces clarity. Memory goes. Humor and absorption on friends’ faces are replaced by fear and concern. Everything previously moving with the grain is now against– you are irritable, angry, frightened, uncontrollable, and enmeshed totally in the blackest caves of the mind. You never knew those caves were there. It will never end, for madness carves its own reality.”
— Kay Redfield Jamison (An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness)

Home is where you hang your hat (Gratitude 11/150)

This picture made me smile.

My cowboy hat and Kevin’s helmet for his scooter. Home really is where you hang your hat.

My old house sold quickly as we were not after the highest bidder, but desperate to move on with life. It is finally in the transfer stage after months of admin back and forth. I loved that house but I have come to realize more and more that home is where your heart is.

Today I am thankful for a new home, perfect for entertaining on a bigger scale, enough rooms for all our kids, a kitchen even I want to cook in and a sense of well being and contentment.

I love the parks in the estate with beautiful water streams, jungle gyms and trampolines. I love that the kids can ride their bikes and I love how we shook off our pasts and embraced something completely new!

I am thankful that I feel safer. I am thankful for many “nice to have’s” in my life, an abundance of love, light and hope. I am thankful for Noid who provides and I am thankful I can make my contribution.

I am thankful that finally we have a home to hang our hats ~ together!

Btw, I think Baby Gaga may be a tad bi-polar. What a proper kitten! :)

PS. I am not keeping up with a “post a day” but I promise to have 150 gratitude posts by our traditional Thanksgiving celebration, the last Sunday in November.

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