May 2022

 This year. This month. Is it over yet?

A nice man once wrote a nice poem about being in love in May. I am starting to miss the warm embrace of romantic love... but my heart and soul isn't ready to love again. Like, any kind of love....

This month, it was my dad's 10 year death anniversary on 26 May. And my mom unexpectadly and suddenly passed away from pancreatic cancer on 6 May. She was supposed to come home that day... but she didn't make it. It's been such a lot. The price you pay for love... 

My family came from around the world - Australia, Portugal, UK and Johannesburg. My mom was the eldest of 11 children and a second mom to her brothers and sisters. It was a big loss to our entire family. The family came together once again to celebrate and laugh and cry... to eat. To love. It was good.

But the family have now all moved back home and we are all trying to live a new new new normal... because hey, we're still in a post-pandemic world. What even is normal anymore?

Everything is different. And Very Not Normal.

The price you pay for love.... is love.

This May month of sadness is almost over. 

I really hope the rest of this year will be kinder. 

With love.

~anib

Bread

I walked past a bakery today. The smell of freshly baked bread took me right back to early mornings with my dad, fetching fresh rolls with him for our shop. Every Sunday morning, after walking back from mass, we would have a warm, crispy roll with lots of butter, ham and cheese. Every day at school for 12 years, I would have white bread sandwiches made by my mom. I had roosterkook for the first time in Potch after watching Fokofpolisiekar with my best friend at the time. I had a boyfriend that enjoyed cooking for me and that included home baked bread.

Bread Equals Love.

So basically... fuck banting.

xx

Remembering stuff

I'm really not a fan of remembering death anniversaries... but this one has been lingering on my mind for a while... so I guess I just need to address it.

On Tuesday, 26 May 2015, it will be three years since my dad passed away.

Three.
Years.

I'm not sure how I feel about it. But I guess I'm sad.
Sad that it doesn't really matter... and sad that it really really does.

That's all for now.

update on 2014

So. It's been a while.

I usually only feel like writing when I'm horribly miserable and I dont really want to explore all of those emotions publicly. I'm a little less miserable at the moment as I've been sick with some type of flu and a really bad cough for a few weeks now. But perhaps a random (and vague) catch-up of my mental state is important (at least for me).

Well nothing has changed in my personal life. In the romance field... nothing is growing. Not even a sniff of a possibility. I've sort of tried to accept that I'm actually not ready for a relationship anyway and subjecting someone to the mess that is me, at this point in my life, would be a little dangerous. But still. You know.

In the field of friendships.... I am not really trying. In fact, I seem to be pushing people away. I've written off quite a few friends over small transgressions (and some with good reason, I think). It's got more to do with me, of course, but I haven't let anyone into my circle of trust in a long time. And I really dont want to let back anyone from my past. If I've made mistakes, tough. But I do still wonder what if, maybe, but...? And that doesn't help.

I'm still a bit social in small doses... but nothing of any substance, I think. People appear to like me but, I um... am not convinced. The doc and my only close(ish) friend has reminded me on numerous occasions that the only person who doesn't like me is me. Touche.

The doc says I'm depressed and have been for a while. And here I thought, this was the happiest I've been in a while. I am actually really happy at work. And I still have a great time at trance parties (although I have cut down on this "addiction" this year). I guess I still have a shit load of unresolved issues that come up from time to time... which I'm working through... kinda. You know.

The hardest part of life at the moment is being on my own... with myself... by myself.

A friend's mother passed away recently and another friend's mother is dying from cancer. I feel like a terrible friend because I really just cant deal with things like this. I'm having dreams about my father and grandmother... and I wake up and feel like I'm mourning their loss all over again. I still dont get on with my mother which is apparently why I'm unable to make female friends. So.... there's also that. I honestly dont see any resolution in this... ever. That's pretty depressing.

Otherwise, I'm just looking forward to getting away from Cape Town over the silly season. I need a proper break away from everything. I'm always so tired over November and December and I really need to take care of myself. I'm trying. In small doses.

Hopefully next year, I will have enough money to go away on my own. For now, I just need to get better.

Toodles.

~anib

Crash and burn

I suppose I should do an Afrikaburn post. It was nice. I had fun. And then I got pissed off.

It's hard to walk away from Afrikaburn and remember the good stuff when I found out that my good friend had passed away from cancer while I was out frolicking in the desert.

I also almost died as we left the Burn. It's not something that I really want to talk about... but our car almost rolled on that horrible R355 gravel road of hell. And I'm insanely pissed off at my friend... for many things that happened before, during and after the Burn but this was probably the last straw for me. The least you could've done, after everything that I have done for you, was get me there safe and sound. The very least.

I tried to explain why I was upset... but I managed to just end up burning that bridge. Hard. We're no longer friends. (Not because of the accident.... mostly about money... and some hurtful things that were said.)

So after a week of sunny days and hot party nights and naked old men running around the desert and beautiful girls and their little boy issues and trance and hip hop and art (amazing amazing art) and science and tea and croquet (yes really) and rainbows and butterflies and crystals and chakras and hula hoops and purple weddings and sand (so much sand)..... after all of that, I will only remember the two important friends that I lost.

It feels a little ungrateful.... but I cant see much past death and loss at the moment. Even watching the Reflection sculpture from last year's burn get burned this year left me a little sad. And of course last year's burn was the first time I was able to mourn properly for my dad. His death anniversary is this month. Two years.

And I'm still single. I actually really did put myself out there this Afrikaburn. I flirted with a few boys... got accepted but rejected and another guy just wanted sex. And I realised that I really dont just want that. So I'm still single. I give up.

And I got sick this week. Horribly sick with snot and fevers and coughing all night.

I am freaking over this month.

But the greatest hurt is losing  my friend. Death, I can try to understand.. but having a friend abuse my love and trust is something I can never get used to. I'm heart broken.... and tired. And a lot poorer too so I cant do much more than sit with these feelings and feel them. I mean, who DOES that?!

I'm done.

Just stand there and watch me burn.

~anib

White paint

So I finally managed to finish painting our garage door. It's taken about a month because of the crappy weather in Cape Town. And procrastination. Maybe.

And memories of dad. Definitely.

There was an unspoken rule at our house: Mom ruled inside the house and Dad could do what he wanted in his garden and in his garage. After he died, the garage got dusty and the garden withered to nothing. In my little way, I'm trying to keep him alive by bringing his garden back to life and making the garage usable again. 

It's been an emotional rollercoaster.... but it's good.

Anyway, back to the garage escapade. I had no idea what I was doing but after a bit of googling, I just kinda got to it. I worked really hard on scraping off the old paint and washing it with sugar soap. When I was at the paint shop, I tried to not look like a lost lamb and didnt ask for help. So I picked up something that had a red door on it... expecting it to be red paint. Well, when I opened the paint, it was actually white. Urgh. 

I was getting upset with myself at how stupid I was but.... then I figured I must really be channelling my dad because he would've done the same thing. He didnt really plan things out carefully. He just kinda got an idea in his head and made the best of the situation. 

So, while I carried on painting the previously very red door a very glossy white... I smiled. To me, it felt like I was wiping a slate clean... making a new beginning.... bringing in light to a dark place. I could go on.. but the point is it turned out ok. Even with all the mistakes along the way, it turned out ok.

*blink*

It felt weird painting over his work. I was thinking about him doing exactly what I was doing at the time. 

In a strange way, I felt close to him. Maybe I really  was channelling him in some way... 

I guess it feels strange because I'd never felt those things before. 

Maybe.... maybe... I could still get to know him.

All I know is... I have a white wall.

And it will turn out ok.

~ anib

For Dad

I thought I had nothing to add to last year's post... but this song is for you, dad. 

And for me.

Happy birthday.

x0x

Not about a boy

dont give me what i want

This is not about a boy.. or a man, for that matter.
Well, in many ways, I guess it is. But not anyone that's around at the moment...

The month of March was spent running into the arms of someone that, I thought, would be the answer. The problem was, I wasn't even clear what the question was. I'm super grateful to the doc for opening my eyes to what I've actually been looking for. And how completely pointless it is looking for what I need outside of the four walls of my brain (and heart).

Not that I believe the doc, of course. Not yet, anyway. But I'm told that I'm perfectly capable of providing myself with all the love that I need. Oh, how I chuckled. ahem. But seriously.. I cant even imagine being nice to myself.. or (eww) spending time alone and being (laughs harder) happy. I will work on it, I guess. I need to find out who I am without "everything". The alternative hasn't been working out so well so I guess I dont have much of a choice here.

I guess it isn't rocket science that it all seems to come down to mommy and daddy issues. The best way that I can describe it is via an image I remember from an Oprah show (no judgies) that showed a whole bunch of tubes at different ages. This represented the love that you should've received at each age. So if you get enough love, the tube is filled up and you can give more when you're older. Apparently, I missed out on some parental love from about 10 to... um.. nowish. So I need to fill up. And am currently unable to give anything useful to anyone. *sad face*

I know that I've been looking in all the wrong places for something. I just never knew what I was looking for.. and why I was feeling so disappointed by everyone and everything. It's not everyone.. it's me. Sorry, everyone. Yes, I do feel bad for causing so much unnecessary drama. Learning to forgive myself seems to be the hardest step in moving forward. I get stuck in all the mistakes... and I dont know how to even have a normal relationship anymore. I react in a childish way when I dont get what I want because... well, I guess I'm still a child in love terms. When someone asked me the other day if I'd even been in love.. I had to give a blank stare and say "I dont know." *sigh*

So the latest "mistake" just awakened a deep desire for a connection... a desire to be wanted and adored... and taken care of. And I found myself becoming desperately needy for any kind of attention. And hating myself for it. And going back and doing it all over again. It's absolutely soul crushing. And I still cant stop it. The doc says that I need to treat this desperate need for love like an addiction.  So my plan of action is going "cold turkey" on all men and possible relationships.

"And how's that working out for you?"
Not well, doc.. not well at all.

~anib

daddy's little girl

Well there went January... oh and hello February.
I have actually been busy. I'll try to write more.
But, to be honest, having actual therapy is making this form of cheap therapy a bit redundant.

looking up

I survived Valentine's Day. It wasn't a big issue. I feel so loved and accepted by new and old friends at the moment. It's amazing. And new. I dont think I've ever felt like that before... even in a relationship. And that's um... well that's kinda sad, I guess.

I guess the trance parties are part of the abundant joy I have right now. It's a little piece of paradise that I find hard to explain. I try here. I've met new people... I've done new things... I can just be. Happiness!! :)

But still. It's hard to ignore the intimate relationship part of Vday. I didnt think about it too much... until I saw videos of Dr House singing again. Which reminded me of a "forever love" that was never really finished. Or maybe it was and I really didnt want it to be. I made the stupid mistake of saying hi again and... I walked away disappointed. Again.

I have to ask myself why I keep doing that.

On Friday night I was close to calling up the man-child again. I'm only grateful that I had blocked him on whatsapp and had to consider the hassle of unblocking and inviting him back into my life. Dinner for one worked out just fine. Although I did land up buying cigarettes because... I dont know. I guess I needed time to think and breathe.

Which brings me to the issue: why do I keep loving men who dont show me love?

*big breathe*

"i thought too much. i worried too much."

This is really difficult because I'd like to think that my dad and I had a good relationship. The honest truth is that we didnt have a relationship. And, for a very long time, I was just a little girl looking for love and attention.

My earliest memory was of him teaching me how to swim in the sea and him holding me while I kicked in the waves. But, earlier than that, I remember I did something really bad and he hit me. He never hit me after that but I guess I had always been trying to get his approval since. And maybe I'm still trying... looking for love in all the wrong places, desperate for attention. That's a hard realisation... and not an observation that I like about myself.

I had a whole bunch of other things going on as a little girl that I dont really want to go into here. But, in many ways, I felt very alone in the world. I guess I was always looking for someone to protect me and save me from bad things. That never happened. And I got horribly heartbroken every time one of my men let me down.  Living up to my impossible standards, I suppose that was inevitable. :(

So I'm spending some time with little ani again. She needs some healing. I've been looking at posts from my old StumbleUpon blog which included letters that I had written to her. At that stage, I was starting to get disappointed by my ex-husband and my world was falling apart.

1 June 2008: 
an ode to the little one
i have walked a long path with you, my dear
i should've held your hand and helped you
but it was you... you held me up..
you're a brave, strong little girl
and i will always love you
but now you can walk on your own
and i must grow up
goodbye little girl
*hug*

And again in 2010, after another heartbreak....

5 June 2010:  
little one... i love you. 
you're brave...and strong... and i love you... deeply. 
you are more than this... you are safe... you are loved. 
you are special... you are greater than your body.. your spirit shines bright. 
i love you. i love you. 
xx 

So here I sit... with this impossible heartbreak.
I dont know how to move on from here.

~anib

Happy birthday dad

this is the edited eulogy i did for my father on 31 May 2012. 

Thank you to everyone for being here today. I know that there are many friends and family that wanted to attend and our family appreciates the sentiment.  I also want to thank everyone for their very kind messages on Facebook, Twitter, via texts and calls and emails and various offers of help and support. If I took up every offer of a glass of wine, I’d be in a lot of trouble.... but thank you. J 

.........

And now... I want to tell you about my Dad.

Everyone I’ve spoken to has said what a kind and gentle person he was. And quiet... very quiet. Which is why I felt like I needed to tell you who he was to me.

My father was a brother. He grew up as a farmer in Lugar de Baixo, Ponta do Sol in Madeira. My father is survived by his twin sister, Mariazinha who unfortunately could not be here today but sends her condolences. Please keep them in your prayers.

He left his family and his farm to come to South Africa in 1962 where he worked in the Free State and eventually moved to Cape Town, where he met my mother.  My father provided for his family by working single every day and night in his shop. To many people, he was simply known as Mr Rons. We had a Rons Cafe in Woodstock and then moved to Table View and Muizenberg and then finally settled in Maitland for almost 20 years. 

My father was a good dad. There are many things he did that, I guess, we all just take for granted. I loved working in the shop with him. We would write the prices on all the tin food together. He would take me shopping with him to Makro and I would help him pick all the stuff for the shop. He once bought me a big fluffy teddy bear that my mom said I was too old for at the time... I still sometimes sleep with it.

My father did some interesting stuff. He makes the coolest gadgets and things around the house. He designed this rather complicated watering system for his fruitful garden. My dad loved to garden. He would spend hours in his vegetable patch and tending his flowers. He used to play the accordian.... which I thought was just so cool. And probably inspired me to play the piano. He would always carry a pen in his shirt pocket. He was good at Bisca and Domino and Casino... and he taught me all these games. He was a bit of an experimental cook. I will miss his concoctions. J

It is often said that when you leave this world, make sure you leave a legacy. My father’s legacy will be in his children. I see my father’s kind and gentle nature in my brother, Nicolau. The way he quietly goes about his work and life makes me smile as it reminds me of dad.  I, of course, have my father’s face... so I will embrace these chubby cheeks... and I think I inherited some of his cheeky humour too.

A special word for my mother. Mae... Obrigado para tudo que a mae fez para o pai. Ele esta em paz agora.

Dear Pai... as we approach Father’s Day, I would’ve loved to give you another Old Spice aftershave  or soap on a rope like we used to. This year, I will just say thank you for all that you have done for us.

We love you and miss you.

Rest in Peace.

Daddy Blues

There are moments when it all just hits you.
You will never see my kids... if I even have kids. will i ever have kids?
I will never know if you even liked me.. god dammit... why didnt you say anything?
I have to take care of your wife now. where the hell is my life?

i get pissed off at myself for wasting time... for not doing more, being more.
i get mad that maybe it's your fault that i need constant validation from men.
how the hell do i stop making the same mistakes? when do i get my chance??
i am sad... and guilty... for taking this trip overseas with mom... with your money. yes, it ours but still.
i hate that your death felt like a relief.... that the pain had stopped... that all our pain had stopped.

except it hasn't.

i wish i had more time.
to say thank you.
and sorry.
and
do you love me?

~anib

It's not perfect

I thought I wasn't ok in my last post.... I had no idea.
My father died last week.
He'd been ill for a long time now.... but last week... it just got worse.
He couldn't walk.. he couldn't breathe. He gave his last breathe on Saturday morning.

I didnt get to say good bye.
I wonder if he knew that I wanted to.
I wonder if I could've said or done anything more.
Something... anything... we just wanted a little bit more.

The funeral was yesterday. I gave the eulogy.
Some people said I was brave. I didnt know that I had a choice.
Today... I decided to not be brave. Today, I was sad.
Today I slept... holding the teddy bear he bought me when I was 13 (yes, way too old for a teddy).

old handsby ~fmamb

I've worn his wedding ring as a chain all week... but today I actually looked at it for the first time.
(Time to face the reality, I guess.)
It's not a perfect circle.
I guess 34 years of marriage takes its toll.
As does 74 years of hard work, I guess.
My father worked too hard... every fucking day in the shop... with not much to show for it.
We have enough. We'll be fine. And my brother and I are smart kids...  we'll be fine.
But I just HATE it that someone who is a good person, who never harmed a single thing, with a warm and gentle spirit... can still get fucked by this world.
Yeah.... I am angry at you, world.
So angry and so sad.
Because it's all just unfair.

*breathe*

I came here to say that just because it's not perfect, doesn't mean it's not good..... and ok.
But I dont feel ok today.
So no happy ending today.
Take that, world.

~anib