Sunday, 30 September 2012

You mean I am a mistake?

This morning I opened up Facebook only to have my eyes assaulted by some religious banter. Now don't get me wrong, religion is a topic of conversation I rarely get into because of the fact that I believe that everyone is welcome to their points of view, it's our human right after all to have the freedom to say what we think and to believe in whatever we like. However, when I (in the broader sense of the term) am told that because I do not believe in G-d (call him by which ever name you please) and rather in evolution that I am a mistake and therefore have no purpose, I'm going to open my big fat trap (as my mom so lovingly calls it) and speak up.

Now bare with me, this is only my opinion, but I prefer to live life based on facts and formulate my opinions based on those facts. Are you telling me because I choose to not believe in a Higher Power within your perimeters that I am a mistake? Who are you to make that call? Would your all loving G-d approve of such comments?

Your religious views are yours to have, and I respect you for them. However, my opinions although very different from yours, hold as much value.

Over and Out.



Friday, 28 September 2012

Moods that fluctuate like the tides

It's kind of funny how the one simile that describes moods best is that which refers to tides. The ocean being one of the few things (other than driving my car real fast) can make the adrenaline pump and wash away all my fears.

The ocean, she is vast, powerful, deserves respect and like most woman rather temperamental. She holds life within her, far beyond our wildest dreams considering we have yet to explore and discover half of what she has to offer. Like most women, she has held back, perhaps in fear.

Fear, it's a funny thing really. One simple emotion, yet it is able to hold us back from our true potential until we can learn that although afraid, that is no excuse not to try anyway. After all, the only things we ever truly regret is those things we never tried.

This week has got me thinking about this topic extensively. After all as someone once said 'life's not about waiting for the storms to pass...It's about learning to dance in the rain', and Spring has flown the coop here in SA so lets dance! Life's too short to sit and think about regrets and 'what if's', the only way to change it is by putting in some action to do just that, change it. This is why I set myself a challenge for this next month, time to stop letting fear hold the reins and take back the power.

If I died today, could I truly say I lived my life with no regrets and had lived life to the fullest? I'm not sure, and that's not good enough for me anymore.

Over and Out.



Thursday, 20 September 2012

Natural Vs Chemical, Nuture Vs Genetics

Something that keeps coming up in my life is trying to explain to people the concept that drugs are drugs, be they natural or chemical, neither being better/worse than the other.

This argument brought me great frustration a couple weekends back as hypocrites are my greatest pet peeve.

For years I sat silently fighting the good fight in order to retain my sanity in a household that was reined by illogical, emotionally driven antics. A household where to be heard I felt I needed to scream or else I was going to carry on going unheard. I dreamed of a day that everyone would be able to speak their minds, their opinions not being judged as wrong but rather as a different outlook on the situation at hand. I wanted a space to call safe, a home to be a home not a war zone. Hypocritical stand points with opposing behaviour being the order of the day, and everyone screaming, but never truly being heard left me confused and searching for ways to make things better.

After finally getting out of the house, I was a lil older, but no more wiser as to how to deal with life as those that should have been guiding me had had no guidance themselves in this regard. I am a firm believer that children are molded by a combination of genetics and their surroundings in their formative years. Granted I have little to no recollection of these years, but the memories I do have only make my belief in this stronger.

I was searching for years in all the wrong places, until someone suggested rehab. So I packed my shit up, asked for help (having to admit to one of the coping mechanisms and symptoms of much deeper issues in order for them to take me serious - drugs are bad kids, be they of the natural or chemical variant). Only problem is now that I am out, my family is stuck on the 'drugs are bad part' and not on the fact that it was a symptom, one that brought me to the point of asking for help as it was in my face, but a symptom nonetheless. I needed direction from some more well-rounded adults, and am now making healthier choices. Those choices I speak of, they are mine to make, and I will keep making those, even if that means hurting your feelings when I have to tell you that you are crossing boundaries when you leave your shit in my car and then harp on about my choices.

Sometimes I want to give them an inventory journal and be like 'I think we will get on better if you try work on yourself like I am and realise just because I acted out in a more obvious manner, you ain't perfect.'  Because neither of us is. Perfection is a lie we were taught growing up, it does not exist. We are constantly changing, evolving and learning. Maybe once this concept is grasped the hypocrisy will diminish.

Those mountains were set in my path for a reason, I was meant to climb over those mountains to get to where I am today. Only difference between us, is I can see that and all you can see are the mountains.

Give it a week of letting all involved simmer down and a discussion with the family member in question, we are now finally on the same page of understanding. But this is only due to my now well developed ability to communicate & to response instead of reacting - something my parents struggle to grasp at times. They are improving for the most part, and for this I am grateful, however on occasion they get a lil irrational and forget to listen to facts.

Only time will tell if my little (and by no means is that reflective of how dysfunctional) dysfunctional family will grow into a more peaceful and rational one. Here's to holding thumbs that at 30 I will have my shit together and my family theirs. I know I'm powerless over them, but hope is still alive and kicking, and with the progress over the last year and 3 months,things are looking good for the lil crazy clan of 4 and extended family.

Over and Out.