Where did he go?

I used to think my dad was a good man but would a good man beat his wife while dying of COVID? I know pain can create a monster but it also created a mad man

I used to think the only man I love was a good man but he showed me even the best can hurt you the worst.

I’ve been beaten and raped by a bad man, but men can be bad in different ways, like cheating on a pregnant woman, like choosing what’s easy instead of trying hard to make it work for your family.

Where did he go? The one I knew I could count on when everything fell apart, the one who knew the pain men caused me and promised it won’t be the same. I never really needed to be fixed, I needed to be loved.

After all the disappointment I’ve been in my almost 30 years, this was the sharpest knife and the deepest stab in the back because learning the worst heart break and betrayal could come from the one you felt safest with, you don’t recover from that.

It turned me into the mad man I call my father, the man who loved and was taken advantage of, he who is possessed by anger and self hatred, he sits peacefully in his room asking himself why did they replace me and he comes out with red in his eyes and strikes the woman he thought was perfect because even after years of choosing her, she chose someone else for the thrill of it.

But I’m my father now, I’m consumed and marinating in a mix of anger, depression and chaos, where my emotions are turning into cocktails of disaster and I have no control over my heart because it bleeds at the very thought, “he doesn’t love me”

He loves someone who won’t do half as much for him, why does he not want me?

He chose someone who already loves someone else, why does he not want me?

He showers her with affirmation while she gets it from other lovers, why doesn’t he fucking want me?

I’m a zombie and I don’t say brains brains brains, the only thought that has consumed my very night and day, that turned a once happy woman into an image that brings so much pain when staring into a mirror is, he doesn’t love you, he doesn’t want you.

Where did he go? After all this I want him to come back, why is my desperation for someone that may not even exist stronger than my will to live? Is it the need to give our child the family I once desired but never had? Is it a love that I should have conditioned but decided to keep forgiving mistakes so I could spend my life with a man who is now a ghost?

Where did he go? I just wanna know. Why do I love someone who isn’t here anymore?

This is it.

All my life I craved their approval, I wanted their attention, I wanted to be in their presence, whether it earned me an insult or a coffee poured on me, I got their attention, didn’t I?

0-12 years, who am I to them but the ugly sister? The black sister? The pig sister? The one they’re embarrassed to introduce, the one who smells, the one who acts like an animal.

12-19, I’m the wild one, the dumb one, the depressed one, the suicidal one, the failure, the slut, the waste of time, the disgrace?

20-25, I’m the drug addict, the fat one, the whore, the black one, the desperate one, the useless one, the waste of money?

25-30, The one who ruins lives, the whore, wild, sickly, fat, ugly, going nowhere in life, useless mother, not their blood, not good enough, the hated one, the filthy one, the one who will rot in hell.

But I still wanted approval, the acceptance, the glimmer of hope that despite the heart wrenching pain they caused, I’ll be apart of their world, so I’ll take it, I’ll take it until I’m in a dark place, where the echoes of their remarks full the emptiness of the room, but still I forgive them because I hoped they’d be the one to open the door and let light in.

But now 26-30 years, you can’t force family to love you even though you’re connected by blood, it took me years of ridicule and loneliness to understand that I am strong, that the hatred poured onto me in every stage of my life shaped me into something resilient, I’m a pyramid that will stand strong through any obstacle, I’m the seed that grew into a flower with the dirt thrown at me and every time I felt like I was drowning, I was learning to swim, to swim away from toxicity, from loneliness, from the need for approval, from people who bring me pain instead of joy.

All my life I wanted approval but that’s over, now I wish them well.

I’m losing.

I thought I’m becoming whole. But everyday I feel there’s a hole in my heart that grows bigger.

I lost myself when I lost you..

you made me feel like I’m capable of more.

Now there’s an empty space for the piece of my heart that left with you..

you’ve taken my strength, my hope, my faith..

But also my appetite, my energy, my drive.

I lost myself, I can’t see the person I used to be when I look at my reflection.

I see someone defeated, unwilling to fight or even try anymore..

I lost the smallest yet biggest part of me..

I will never be whole again..

I lost myself.

Consumed

The loneliness creeps in at night, unwanted, uninvited, unbothered and frightening, yet we’re familiar, the uncomfortable feeling that sets in, but I lay with you and you know my every secret, every ache, the tingly feeling running through my now dampened skin because I’m afraid to lay with my loneliness and yet I do this every night.

I don’t know the warm feeling, the feeling of having someone, even something to ease my nerves, but I know you, I know you who destroys my sleep, who watches my body clench in fear of my life, my heart, my regrets, if not you? Do I drink a little more or pop another pill? How do I stop you from invading my peace? How do I stop you from drowning me in guilt and sorrow? You draw my tears until I’m dry, you scare my soul until I sweat, you enter my dreams and I’m trapped in fear.

I beg you to leave, but you can’t because I created you, I feed you all my pain and now you’re more than me, more than what I can control.

Follow the white rabbit

Do you know how I stay awake wondering where did I go wrong?

While you sleep peacefully

My skin begins to crawl

I toss and turn till I feel no more

Numbed by my addiction

A pill, a needle, a bottle

I’m not me, anymore

Do you know how I lost myself?

I can’t recall

I guess I chased the white rabbit

And fell into a hole

I try to crawl out but I can’t fight anymore

I lay in my despair

No hope for me at all

I closed my eyes and I saw nothing.

I write to you, to you who break into homes of innocent people and instead of taking what you desire, you beat them, you try killing women, while their young watch from the inside of a wardrobe praying that their father comes in and saves them, I write to you, you who came into my home and held my parents at gunpoint, I write to you who would probably never know how it feels standing two feet away while your mother is getting beaten with a firearm.

Do you know how it feels being paralyzed with fear? Your legs won’t move, your hands can’t reach for the phone to call the police, it’s fight or flight but you know you need to fight but your brain already boarded the plane. I write to you, can you imagine 4 men in your home and you don’t know if they’re gonna break your door and shoot you or if you’re gonna open a door and find every loved one covered in blood.

I write to you, you who traumatized us, all crimes are wrong, but to hurt our women, to scare our children, you have destroyed our trust in this South Africa. I pray that the lord so good to have his hand over us during this trying time, I pray that same hand will open your eyes and make you realize that you can’t keep hurting women and children, stop, please.

Are there any good people?

It’s been 4 months into lockdown, I could have been blogging and spending time doing something I love but how did my lockdown begin?

It starts with the South African crime rate, where people think it’s okay to take from others, even if these “others” are financially unstable and have a lot of health issues, it’s not the poor stealing from the rich, it’s the criminals stealing from good people. I remember rushing home to find my door broken in half, my clothes scattered on the tiled floor, they touched everything I owned even placing their hands on my underwear and climbing onto my bed, I lost a lot of material but I also lost the security and the feeling of being safe in my own home, all because 3 men decided to break gates and doors in my house, take all I owned and leave, I’m unemployed, I’m a student and my parents don’t have much money. We go into lockdown a few weeks later, when I didn’t have time to get a phone or laptop for online classes, not just because of lockdown but because they took all my savings.

Fours months later and I’m still trying to sleep without jump scares, I’m trying to be comfortable in my own home, I’m just praying that they don’t come back, I have nothing but I’m alive, alive in a place that is cruel, that is selfish, a place not meant for good people.

Be still, be silent.

I’m disappointed for being too “respectful” the kind of respectful that had me stuck in situations where I accepted the outcome because I didn’t have strength to overcome it or I just didn’t have faith that there’s any chance that I’d get out of my situation.

It breaks me and steals a little of my faith everytime I write this but the words that do laps around my head will always be “be still and be quiet, it’s you and nothing ever works out for you”

I remember rapidly losing weight, I went from 58kgs to 47kgs in less than two months, my iron became very low and I just didn’t have much energy to be productive. I tried eating but I still didn’t put on weight but because of people making me think that being thinner was better I convinced myself to suffer in a body that can barely survive, it’s always society that paints you a picture of how things should be even when it’s wrong.

We dive more into 2019 where I just kept dropping weight and began getting these jerks or shivers from time to time, I didn’t take much thought into it because everyone said “wow, you lost weight and you’re looking so much prettier.”

It was July when it finally hit me, I’m not safe and something was going wrong, I remember walking pass a lake with my younger sister and asking her if she also saw these stars and snakes flying around from time to time, these “shadow looking kinda things” and she looked at me asking me “Are you gone mad?”

Well that’s the last I remember after waking up covered in my own blood, flat on the ground surrounded by people and my brother in law asking me “Are you okay?”

Well of course I’m okay because I was walking around perfectly but why is there blood all over my jeans, why are both my knees bleeding? Why is there blood all over the floor and why am I tasting blood?

He looked at me in shock and said “you’re okay” but I heard someone calling the ambulance and I shouted “WHAT HAPPENED?” They said you just fell and bust your lip, nose, knees and you have some bruises on your fingers. I asked to look at myself and I couldn’t hold back the tears, my lips were slit in half, my nose bleeding, my front tooth loose and about to fall out and everytime I asked what happened I just received a weird look like no body wanted to stress me.

I then found out that I had a grand mal seizure, an epileptic attack. I went two weeks unable to talk properly, unable to eat, I had to stick to liquids and till today I can’t bite using the front of my mouth because I’m afraid that my tooth might fall off because I haven’t yet gone for my root canal, my lip has a bump on it which will remain here forever and I had to limp and walk for a few weeks but that’s not where it ends.

In August I had my second seizure in campus, I didn’t receive any injuries and I was taken care of during the seizure however I was still recovering from my injuries in July. As much as all this really affected my self esteem and I lost faith and trust in myself, it doesn’t seem to get easy.

A few days after my seizure I began teaching practice, I made it aware to the school that I have low iron and I’ve been having seizures, I’m very shaky and due to my tooth being loose, some of the words I say don’t come out clearly, my writing will be untidy because I’m very weak but I will try my best.

It’s days like these where you see the lack of humanity and understanding, due to my illness I was taken out of the school because they believed I’m sick and physically incapable, they believed my writing was too untidy and I’m not good enough because of my health and this has delayed my degree and it breaks my heart till today that they wanted me to keep quiet and accept that I was taken out of the school due to my health, it breaks my heart that I’m unemployed and I now have to pay to study an extra year.

I feel as if it’s time that women stand up and voice their opinions; express their feelings and make it known when they’re being taken advantage of, make it known that they’re not sheep and will get things done given the opportunity, that things shouldn’t be taken away from us because of our health, that we’re strong and will succeed no matter how difficult things are and I know even with my physical health being testing, I would have succeeded in all I did if I was given the opportunity to try and not just taken away from it because they didn’t have any faith in me.

I’m now on medication and I’ve put on a lot of weight and things have been much better for me, it’s safe to say I’ve learnt to be healthy and not worry about the opinions of others.

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One day, one hour, one life ruined.

They say it’s what we wear, it’s how we speak or how we ask for the wrong attention, they say it’s usually by strangers or people with psychological issues. They say we asked for it. They say you should have known better, they say how can you allow this to happen? They say you asked for it.

I was only 15, he promised me no harm, no hurt and no pain. He lured me in by telling me “we’re just going on a date, baby.” I trusted his words, after all we’ve been together for a year.

I was only 15 wearing my green check shirt and waiting for his car to fetch me, he arrives looking uninterested, untidy, unbothered, the drive was quiet and I should have known why.

He drives home and I ask “Why?”

“Come in and say hi to mom while I change.”

I believed him.

I enter and he latches the gate and door and I’m standing in an empty house, not even his mother was home.

He asked me about why I wouldn’t give him my virginity and I responded telling him that I’m too young and I’m not yet ready, I was 15 when he slapped me and called me a liar.

I was 15 when he pushed me on the couch and pulled off my clothes, the louder I screamed the harder he punched, I told him to stop, I said no, I cried as loud as I could, no one heard me.

I was 15 when he threw me on his bed, called me a bitch and never heard a word I said, I was too thin when he punched again, too weak to fight off the man who promised me no harm.

I shouted, I cried, I pushed him.. I tried.. I tried and I failed.. he got his way while I laid there losing every bit of happiness and sanity I’ve ever had.

I was 15 when I ran away once he finished.. I ran with blood between my thighs, swollen jaws and him crying and saying he made a mistake.

I was 15 when I was raped, I tried to escape, I screamed, I fought but I was too weak. But they tell us that we dress for it, we ask for it and it’s usually by someone we don’t know.

I’m coloured with pain.

I remember sitting on the couch watching romance and planning out my future with my first love, I remember the innocence, the happiness, the hope, the faith, the love..

But it takes an hour for an argument to transpire, for him to call me a bitch, a whore but how? A virgin? He’s my first kiss, my first touch, how am I the names he calls me?

He thought I didn’t want sex because he thought I lied about being a virgin so he called me names, he punched, slapped, strangled and headed me.. he stopped when I bled.. when I cried.. when he came to his senses..

I had scars of blue, purple and sometimes black. Scars not deep enough to make me walk away, marks my mother asked about, but he loves me so he won’t do it again and if he did.. I’ll repeat, he loves me, he won’t do it again. He loves me and the swelling will go away, my skin will be clear again.. he loves me, he won’t lay his hand on me again.