26 February 2016

It Is Not Okay




It is six months since I was left alone out here to deal with life.

It's super shitty. I realise I am incredibly angry. Which makes me feel guilty.
I am also tired. I don't sleep anymore. 

This doesn't mean I am not happy in many aspects of my life but the fact remains that I am not okay. 

The biggest problem is that I often feel okay...which means I look okay and then suddenly I am totally not okay. It dangerous and confusing; even to me. 

The fallout is huge for the people closest to me. I swing wildly from massive guilt to f*** everybody rage mode and it is exhausting. The lack of control over my own life is debilitating.

I know I have to ride this out. I know it is normal but it is overwhelming to say the least.

Tomorrow I head up the coast to spend 24hrs with some mates; no kids, no responsibilities. 

I am so ready to just forget the world for a couple of hours and hopefully head into March with a little more confidence and energy.

Happy weekend to you all; make it worthwhile.




18 February 2016

Unpacking The Months:Part Two

(Find Part One here)


It took some time but I finally relented. I had nothing to lose. The email was written and sent.

He facebooked messaged me the same day and we connected on whatsapp on 21 November.

By this time I had regrouped  and was actively going out and living large. I was pushing new boundaries in my own independence and seeking out experiences that would definitely have scared me in a former life. I wasn't really in the 'needy' stage anymore - I kinda felt like I had started getting my shit together.

Then I wrote this blogpost the day before my birthday. I will never forget this day as long as I live. It was brutal.

He texted me  after reading my post, I knew he really GOT IT.  Of course he did....he had been exactly in the space I found myself right that moment. We chatted that night - briefly - around our grief experiences.



Another week or so passed; we began chatting more frequently on whatsapp. Like every day. Slowly we became more acquainted with each others' lives and generally developed a friendship that felt comfortable and easy. He had (has) a wicked sense of humour and an approach to life that mirrors mine so closely that at times it is quite unnerving.

I remember standing in my neighbours' kitchen with a G&T in hand one evening when 'the text' arrived from him. The one that asked if I was free for coffee sometime that week.

Not the one that said 'the kids and I are off the beach, do you wanna join us?'
This one was clearly a solo event.

I involuntarily did a little chick-skip; Andrea raised an eyebrow and said 'you may be in trouble here girlfriend'.  It was a funny moment .... and also a very scary one.

And so coffee was had. Two hours on Noordhoek beach on a balmy December morning.

Two relative strangers and yet a familiarity that took my breath away.

It was the beginning of an incredible friendship - this I knew with utter certainty.

The rest was too early to tell but interest was certainly piqued as he invited me to join him at an event in a couple of weeks time...and I accepted.

See Part Three here


16 February 2016

The Slow Creep


I have felt it coming on for a few weeks. Stalking me quietly. Grinning menacingly at me as I tried  to find ways to ward off the oncoming assault.

I do not suffer from depression and I never have. I did, however, live with a man who fought the battle his entire life. I know the signs, symptoms and I am well acquainted with this beast.

I am flattened. I am tired. I am worn out. I am bleeding. I have no reserve but to simply let it come for me.

God knows I have tried.

Almost six months later I am realising there is no escape.

No matter how many 'strong choices' I make...or how many kilometres I clock ..... or how many happy hours I spend doing crazy things....NONE of that is holding back the oncoming tide. I am going to drown. And soon.

It took a simple, loaded statement to make me wake up and see the pending destruction,

"Mom, it feels like we have been orphaned. 

You are hardly here because of all the work you have to 

do and when you are here you are never really present."


That was it. Something has to be done.

I do not know what that something is right now apart from phoning my mom and asking her to please come over immediately.

Chances are good she will know the answer.

My mom is cool like that.




15 February 2016

Unpacking The Months : Part One

It was cool October morning in 2015 when I woke up as I always did.....filled with dread. Completely unwilling to get up or answer my phone or talk to anyone. Hating my circumstances. Tired of trying to be positive and fucking grateful for all 'the good' in my life. I had just lost my husband and I still felt well entitled to being thoroughly pissed off.

For some reason, on this morning, I realised I had a choice to make. Yet again.  I could choose this muck and shit. I could choose to finally give in to the relentless sadness and anger and pain 

OR I could choose to begin all over again. Right from the beginning. 

Not forgetting my past or where I have come from but accepting that the life ahead of me is no longer one of shared dreams and aspirations. No. The life ahead of me is now purely mine for the crafting. 

That alone was enough to take my breath away. And not in a good way. Hyperventilating comes to mind.

Baby steps, I told myself. What is the ONE thing I can do today that will help me want to live again.

I need to eat. Simple hey? Not what you were expecting to hear from someone who has NO interest in food or eating on any given day BUT....

I needed to eat .... so that I could gain the strength to RUN again. Running was going to be my salvation. 

Road running was not the answer - I needed to head back onto the trail but finding a suitable partner proved to be a pretty precarious experience! After a couple of weeks of certifiably insane experiences I lamented to my mom that there were DEFINITELY no guys out there who just wanted to hang out and run with me from time to time.....ja....big surprise hey?! 

My mom casually says to me ... 'I know a guy Mel, he also has 3 kids actually.  He seems to be pretty outdoorsy, active and he lost his wife in similar circumstances some years back - perhaps I could email him and put him in the picture - tell him exactly what you are looking for - I am pretty sure you will be safe with him!' 

Awkward much?

See Part Two here