Insomnia Diaries

Insomnia Diaries

There’s so much I wish to say and do but I do not know where to start. It’s weird because I actually know which steps I need to take. But knowing and actually doing are two completely different things.

On most days, I can’t get myself to do much. Besides eat, of course, because even on my worst day, I can still eat enough for two grown men, at least. How I wish I were one of those people who get stressed or sick or sad and lose their appetite!

Anyway, I’ve received A LOT of support from my friends over the past two months, something I cannot take lightly. If it weren’t for them, I’d probably be fully depressed right now. Thank God for the endless distractions and the unawkward silences. I really don’t know where I’d be otherwise.

I’m off work for the rest of the week. And as you can imagine, my to-do list is sky high. I’ve resolved to try and reduce that list in the coming weeks, because my lack of productivity is actually starting to bother me. A lot of people say recovery is a choice. And while I, for the most part, don’t really agree with the statement as I feel like it invalidates our daily struggles to reach recovery even while it might take some time, I feel like I might need to be a little bit harder on myself, push some more lest this state of hopelessness and just being becomes a way of life. We really wouldn’t want that.

I guess it’s in times like this that being an empath comes in handy. I channel people’s energy and then mirror it. And I spent this evening around hopeful, inspired, hardworking ladies and their energy is bubbling forth in me. Hopefully I’ll be able to preserve enough of it to get me through the days ahead.

But for now, let me try to get some sleep. Tomorrow is another day.

Good thoughts and good wishes to you all…

❤ Zeri ❤

Not another Valentine’s day…

The 14th of February… such a scandalous day world over. People’s minds are blown, sometimes, others get terribly disappointed. Some have chosen not to believe altogether because it’s easier than accepting that nothing is coming through for yet another year in a row…
For me it holds so many funny memories from years past. From the little boy who got suspended from boarding school because he escaped to come and see me on that day (I didn’t even see him because my parents were home and I couldn’t get out of the gate), to the time I had more than one tentative date and they ALL fell through… to the time when my surprises came through well after 7pm and by then I was too mad to enjoy the treat (the perfect date, by the way). Then I remember the time when I came down from my building on my first day in Cape Town to find a boy with a puppy, red roses and a huge placard saying “Happy Valentine’s day baby!” And no calls or texts from my then boo. Thank God there were no blue ticks then . They could have started a world war, I tell you.

Now that I’m older (and much wiser), I find it absolutely ridiculous that so much would be tied to a single day, one with a very questionable history at that. I mean, it’s true that most of us need something to fuss over, to believe in, to look forward to; but frankly speaking, I think it would be much wiser to let the whole thing go altogether. I mean, what happens when nothing comes through? Or if you get the same old bouquet of flowers for the seventh year in a row? What then?

Call me a cynic but I’d rather have 365 days in which to expect nice things than have one singular one. There’s much less room for error with the former. However, with that being said, I do hope you guys weren’t too disappointed today. Surely some of your dreams came true, yes? We all know how much I love a good love story.

But for the rest of you who, like me, neither believe in nor celebrate Valentine’s day, I do hope you had a wonderful day at work/school/life.

Hugs and kisses…

❤Zeri❤

Write to heal (3 )

Write to heal (3 )

On some mornings, you wake up completely paralysed on the inside. It feels like you’re lying under a pile of huge rocks and  there isn’t much you can do about it. That’s the kind of morning-turned-day I’m having. 

I rolled out of bed (literally) and stood in the shower for about 30 minutes doing nothing. There’s something very soothing about hot water running over your body; especially in the morning.

Anyway, after the shower, I sat on my bed and opened my instagram notifications. And both my siblings had posted about my father, and how it’s been two months since we buried him. He was lifting one of my baby nieces in the picture. He looked so happy. And then I involuntarily started thinking about him, not the wisest thing to do before a work day, but I couldn’t help it.

Anyway, I’ve been experiencing a myriad of emotions since November. To begin with, I was struck with terrible anxiety; the kind that kept me awake for over a month and killed my appetite for everything except KFC  (because fried chicken cures everything). Over time, that anxiety morphed into numbness. I think this has something to do with the fact that I had to go back to work which meant feigning some sort of strength lest you totally break down. In any case, there’s only so long most people can tolerate basket cases for. It’s been 2 months for crying out loud, are you seriously still crying?

And then there was the guilt. Guilt I was eventually made to realise was unwarranted. I could have gotten to the hospital sooner. I could have been the last person he saw before he closed his eyes. Instead, I was fast asleep because the doctors saw no need to let us know he was in critical condition. And when they eventually decided to move him to ICU, I didn’t get there fast enough. I was a few minutes too late. On the one hand, I know i said goodbye. I hugged and kissed him the last time i saw him four days before he died and that’s extremely comforting. I’ve always been so big on goodbye. I’m the kind of person who’ll reach the top of  the road and then turn back because I didn’t say goodbye. Thank God for that.

I dream about that morning many times a week, and each time, the outcome is different; he doesn’t die, he bounces back like he always did in the past.

Some days are worse than others when you’re dealing with grief. And on those days, it’s best to allow it. Today is one of those days. And I’ve allowed it.

Write to heal (2)

Write to heal (2)

​I woke up feeling some type of way this morning. For starters, I barely got any sleep last night. There’s a giant-sized situation going on in my life at present and even though I know it’s imperative that I do, I really don’t have the emotional energy to address it. Not yet. Lately I’ve been feeling like everything takes way too much energy; energy I don’t have at the moment but am working hard to restore. So i guess we can rightfully say I’m taking a much needed break from life. People can be so exhausting sometimes.
It’s not the easiest thing in the world to explain though; why you choose not to show up to engagements for no particular reason, or why you do show up sometimes but won’t have much interaction with anyone because for some reason or other, your vocabulary has taken a french leave and you’ve forgotten every word you know.

The thing is, sometimes we spend so much time worrying about what others think and how they feel that we forget to do all the things we have to do for our own wellbeing. I’m guilty of this. I find myself showing up even when I don’t want to, even when it’s taking everything to be there. But it’s taken tragedy to make me realise that sometimes, it’s alright to stay back and take care of yourself. It’s okay to be a little bit selfish sometimes. It’s okay to take a moment to find your bearings, and then face the world again when you’re ready.

I’m also learning that it’s okay to be jealous with your energy. It’s okay to protect it, especially when it’s taken you a long time to charge it with positivity. Some people radiate so much negative energy and if you’re an empath like me, it’s okay to stay away from these people. In fact, it’s important and oh-so-necessary.

Remember, your emotional and mental wellbeing is just as important as your physical. So take care of yourself.

Have a ridiculously amazing week, friends!

Love,
Zeri.xxx

Write to heal (1).

Write to heal (1).

​As human beings, we have a habit of walking away when our loved ones need us most. We are afraid of pain and seeing other people express it openly often unsettles us. We find ourselves unsure of what to say or do. And a lot of the time, that uncertainty keeps us away. “I’ll give them some time,” we say, “they’ll be alright.” My question today is, does this help? And why on earth do we think it does?

If you know me, you know I’d never cry in public. Not if there’s something I can do about it. Now during my father’s funeral,  i kept excusing myself from the crowd and locking myself in the bedroom to weep.

And when I was done, I’d wipe my tears,  wash my face and come back out to play host; poker face and all. I noticed more than a few people staring at my face, looking for signs of tears or some sort of emotion but I showed none. Because where I come from, you don’t show your emotions in public. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I was accused of strength as if it were a medal of honor. Once or twice, I explained that someone had to make sure everything was going okay considering there were only three of us hosting and attending to the hundreds of co-mourners. If I lost it, my mother and two siblings would probably lose it too. Then what? Another time, I nearly bit someone’s head off. But I won’t get into the details. People can be so insensitive.

Anyway, all through the four days, we received an overwhelming amount of support from our friends. Some of them dropped everything and sat with us all day and all night for the entire week, even after the funeral had ended. It’s the kind of thing none of us will ever forget. Thank you. To the people who have kept visiting us every day, calling us, bringing us food (because we haven’t cooked at all since it happened. Junk food has been our life), praying with us, praying for us;  Thank you so so much. For those who let us talk about our loved one (because that’s what our hearts need right now), thank you so much. My baby, Jojo, who held my hand for most of it, and let me cry on her shoulder even though she hates crowds and the tears probably made her uncomfortable, I have no words. But know that my heart fills up with gratitude when I think of you. But like you said, I’d have done the same thing for you.

I know it’s hard to be around sad people, and it’s hard to listen to the painful details of how we feel right now, but thank you for listening anyway, and for the words of encouragement  (for those who offer them). Thank you for holding our hands and helping us whenever and wherever you were able to.

We really really appreciate it.

Since you’ve been gone.

​Out of all the days of the week, Sunday reminds me of my father the most. We always woke up to the sound of him noisily making something in the kitchen, using every single surface in the room while at it. Daddy was such a messy cook, but we wouldn’t dare complain lest he stopped cooking up his Sunday storm altogether. His cooking style was minimal; as little spices as he could get away with. And don’t get me started on those roasts that took the whole day to get ready. He was always so proud of his finished work. And I loved how my opinion was so valued considering I am the resident foodie and the pickiest eater you’ll ever meet.
So today, being a Sunday,  was really hard on all of us. We keep looking at the gate whenever we hear a sound , hoping he’ll have come back.  My brain has completely refused to accept the fact that we left him in a garden somewhere far away, and that we will never see him again. It all happened so fast. And I for one haven’t had the time to process it. I can’t even stand to look at a picture of him, as it has me going back to the moment I heard the words, “He’s gone. Daddy is gone,” and then slowly going through everything else that happened since then. Death is such a strange and unnatural thing. Do people sometimes get used to it? Do you move on?

I feel like my heart breaks a little more every day. And I don’t even know how to express that. Life seems to have moved on. The sun is still rising and setting as usual; birds chirping, music playing… Yet I’m still crying, whenever no one can see me.  I want my daddy back 😦

Mental Health Day 2016

​Sometimes people ask you how you are and you really have nothing to tell them. I mean what do you say? That they should leave you alone? Not forever but for like a while? A while which could be days, weeks or even months? Would they understand that? Would you understand that? 

What about those times when you feel like five/ten years is too far away? Not in a sense that you’re excited for time to pass and don’t want to have to wait, but in the sense that the thought of living that long terrifies you. So much so that you sometimes wonder if there’s a painless way to sign out of life. But then you remember all the people that think they love you. Never mind that you’ve been screaming for help for as long as you remember but no one has heard you. Yes, you think of them and close the window where you had typed “how to end my life painlessly”.

And so you compose yourself. You put on your best “I’m better than ever, can’t you tell?” face, and say you’re fine, pushing aside the tinge of disappointment you feel at the realization that once again, they haven’t noticed.

So many people around us are struggling. Just because people seem fine, doesn’t always mean that they are. Pay attention. Be kind. Show affection. You’ll be surprised at how many lives you might be saving with simple acts of kindness.

Happy #mentalhealthday world!