PERIOD 🎀

I have many fairies but period fairies are not among them.

Nightmares

Nightmares will always come regardless of age. I looked for my partner in my dreams last night after losing her on a teaching trip. We also lost some kids. I offered my body to a bus driver for him to turn around and find her. All I found was a pool of her blood and a hole where it was implied that she was in. I knew it was a hate crime. I also remained faithful for the duration of the bus trip that upon arriving back with the kids, I would get into my personal car and drive back to the hole to find her. She would be alive, I knew that she would be injured but alive and happy that I had found her.

I have been battling in our relationship for the past months. I have not felt connected to her, I have not wanted to be near her and been glad for the separateness. I have not wanted to cuddle, battled to talk for long periods and battled to feel like I am able to be my full, whole authentic self. I have felt trapped, things have felt boring, mundane and not who I want to be. This most certainly speaks to where I have felt in our relationship but it also completely speaks to where I have felt stuck in life.

I believe that I am in partial remission. The most difficult thing for me has been to find a feeling of control over my life. The past few months have not helped me feel in control at all. I am determined to find my ability to be in control and to be okay with not being in control sometimes.

I need to voice up more in my relationship, I need to voice up more in my life. I am learning, hard as it is to soar and to see soaring in falling.

Accents of home

A smile was found whilst smoking a midnight doobie in the garden. I heard boys drunkenly walk home consoling eachother in a familiar, Durban, Coloured accent. The speech structure, jargon and tone were childhood nostalgia drawn upon my face.

Dark Cloud

The weather is unusual for this time of the year. The wind has come but the rains have not started. Inspite of this, nature is green.

There has been a dark cloud looming. It has arrived and is choking me. It smells bad but I can not describe the odour. It is an odour I do not like. I want to shake it off and bring the smells of sunshine, freshly rained upon grass and Drakensberg hikes’ towards my nostrils. The cloud makes me grimace and fills my belly with uncontrollable pangs. It feels sore and overwhelming. I want to close my eyes and be away from everything. The pain of the cloud is unbearable. It won’t shake off, it lingers and makes it ever partially cloudy.

The weather is strange, I liked it more before and I am one who loves a change and a bit of spontaneity.

Words

Some days, I just need beautiful words carefully strung together by poets to keep me bound, breathing and being.

Womandla

Fears as a clinician in training…

June/July 2016

Dear future client,

My road was not smooth. It was bump ridden and blocked regardless it is my rugged road! I thought my accomplishments had been achieved upon being selected to drive on the Mclin road, but fooled I was. I did not walk too far when day 1 hit me. The realisation that I was completely emotionally inept. Yes, my dear future client I have to be dug up, resurfaced and tarred to receive your rugged road.

I need you to know, dear future client that I am scared – no I am terrified, actually I’m shivering in me timbers at the prospect of being inadequate for you. How will I frame your emotional vomit – shall I look at transference, countertransference or desperately attempt to make you mentalize? Will I waddle through my stuff and your stuff? Piling the baggage neatly; stacking it up and reflecting when you require? Will I not confuse my road with yours; shall our baggage bumble over and crash on the m1 road?

Oh dear! Poor future client I worry for your soul. But what about my soul dear future client? If I allow myself to be knocked, bruised, beaten and turned into regular road kill, then I shall not be there to think about the complexity of my erotic feelings in our therapy space. How shall I remain ethical, present, capable of holding your emotional vomit if I give you my soul, dear future client. You want my love, my attention, my psyche, my boundaries. You suck my good breast dry! No dear future client you may not have it all, for you shall end up with none.

So, dear future client I promise you this, I shall organise my stuff for you! This narcissistic arrogance that makes me think I can fix you, yes dear future client I will deal. This desperate, little, eccentric girl that needs to be needed, needs to be picked – yes dear future client I will deal. I shall place the boundaries, play the squash, switch off my work cellphone and yes, analyse what each of those actions meant for you, yes for you dear future client.

I do not know what my identity may be – professional or personal. Goodness I may have even descended onto a gravel road by the point you see me. But dear future client, I commit to you in all my entirety within my professional identity.

Yours lovingly, your future therapist,

                                       Michelle

Actually Fuck off: Malva in the bin

January, 25^th at 2am

Fuck it. I knew this shit of staying with her, with her friend during this pressure, anxiety riddled packed time was a stupid idea. A stupid idea Michelle! We have not had proper time alone, we have done nothing, just the two of us. Oh wait we sleep together – lol bitch, no! You falling asleep alone on your third night together after being apart. Oh be understanding… ACTUALLY FUCK that SHIT. I am done being understanding. This bullshit of making your life too much about another will see you being properly fucked over. Yeah, here is my fucken self-care, I ain’t waiting around to have a moment just for us. Fuck that shit. I have friends, a thesis to write, weight to lose, a suicidal cousin, Mclin knocking on my door, no clue how to fund my year so yeah – BYE waiting! BYE Tshegofatso! I asked you whether you wanted me to come back later so you have time with your friend? I asked you if I must move into res? Now I am just in a strange building, not feeling at home and stressed… yeah so I guess I can add this to my list of things to be anxious about. Anyway you go flourish because honestly I am going to flourish. Oh and forgive my HEAVY conversation, please feel free to go chat about whatever shit you deem normal people stuff! Taylor fucken Swift is regular, lighter conversation… Yeah fuck that shit too, guess I am just weird as fuck. My eccentric, loving, rainbow filled mind, self is just fine with being a ‘heavy’ person to have a conversation with. I can be educated about Taylor Fucken Swift and talk about the problematics of the world – fuck off because I think I am pretty cool to do both! And fuck off actually, I have been trying damn hard in this situation, and I thought I was doing well, we were all making the best and having laughs but I guess not. Fuck off again, keep on fucking off. Fuck off actually, I am done and I am not apologizing for my feelings. I actually am going to congratulate myself for managing exceptionally well since I got here with this all. All my stuff, all this stuff – EVERYTHING. I am giving myself a guilt free award. So fuck off, like really fuck off Tshegofatso. Don’t fucken touch me, don’t think we are doing anything beyond playing nice from this point forward. And you thought I had walls, you have been seeing the tip of the iceberg my babe! My walls are what keep me sane. Fuck actively trying to bring them down for you; I am quite warm, safe and contained right here behind my high, ever growing solid, steel reinforced concrete walls. I am actually livid and I am sure you will find a way to locate my current frustration within my flawed nature, and I will apologize. No actually, fuck off with that shit; you are very far from perfect! If you think I am unhealthy and if I am, then so be it! Fuck off actually, I am what I am and I am quite happy with it. I want tequila, I want cigarettes, I want to yell. I am so fucken done with my reality right now! Like fuck off!! Leave me, I really don’t fucken need you bitch! Watch me throw the freshly baked Malva pudding in the bin – I don’t give a fuck; I am okay with my crazy. I can deal with my bonkers and I want you to fuck off so yeah – fuck off, I am cool right here, alone, with fresh Malva in the bin. Fuck if I could chuck it twice in the bin, I would! Actually I am not defending my sanity; you got touched over post so please, we could debate who is the lunatic here! Oh wait, you have a thing with debating too – SHAME, hey! I will have sympathy over that for you in my next life! The Malva stays in the bin, I hope the kitchen is filled with lingering fresh, sweet smells!

Awakening

My skin is no foreigner to scars. My heart knows death. My being is violation.  My body awakes to pain.

I know burden without exaggeration. And so the clock ticks, relentless and violent.

When all is said and down, I remember to grip the toes beneath the sun and submerge.

I am water. I find a way. Through mountains.

Seynuz;

It is only in my dreams, within my spirit, through my memories and on the Wii that you live on.

I want to see you again and I will.

I will say, “I love you, you are special and I am sorry. You are perfect, you are loved and unforgettable.”

I won’t fail you again. I will help you find your peace. You were young, it should never have been yours to find alone.

I failed you. This is the painful truth. It is the truth that no one will face.