Watching it crumble

*breathes* It is Sunday evening and I am exhausted though it is semi saner in the house… for me.  The kids are taking it hard, acting out, screaming and shouting at her, refusing to eat, acting out with each other… its breaking my heart.

I have moments of thinking that I want to give her a chance to be a mother, a nurturing, loving one.  I encourage her to spend time with the kids and go as far as suggesting she takes a break and sits with the kids while they read or watch TV.  She does for 5 minutes then goes back to re-sweeping the floor or wiping the counters once again.  I’m not kidding. 

Every morning so far while she sleeps (till noon) I take the kids out on adventures, yesterday was a picnic in the park and this morning to the learning centre and a walk home with secret lolli pops again.  The elder kid is really taking it hard, he keeps thinking that everyone likes the younger kids not the older ones, he feels unloved by the one person he craves so desperately to have it from.  His mother.

I swear it feels like déjà vu and it hurts me so very deeply seeing it within him. 

Since getting here I have often thought that the Puppet Master has given me a chance to make a right in the world through giving them what I never got, by being able to protect them and show them the things that I never had the opportunity of knowing.  I fear constantly that I am doing it all wrong, I have never been a parent before but these emotions deep within me are so intense when I see them cling to me in fear, in anger or sadness.

There are no rules in situations like these, who’s responsibility is it to tell the child not to talk to their mother like that? Mine? Hers?  I let it ride for a little giving her the opportunity of putting them in their place but tonight I had enough.  The kids are hurting but they’re overstepping some serious boundaries. 

The elder one is really angry with his mother both for leaving him and also for loving his sister more in his eyes.  He takes it out on her by shouting, refusing her food and avoiding her touch, ignoring her and carrying on.  I’ve let that ride but I think I am doing him a disservice by doing so.  The thing is this kid is so insecure already, by speaking up in front of his sister and mother it could set him back even further.

Sooo (dear diary mode) tomorrow I will have another chat with him about how he talks to her, about his feelings and how he is feeling, remind him again how much I love him and warn him that I will stop him if he does it again, stop him dead in his tracks.  But… is not getting your anger out healthy? Is it good to teach a child that manners are good, that you should treat someone that has hurt you so badly with respect? See, there lies a boundary that if crossed can affect his entire life.

I lie with him, I cuddle him, I get his snot on my hands while blowing his nose and go eeeeeew real loud (not feigning) and get him laughing again, I tell him I love him, I promise not to leave him, that I understand and that I am always here to talk to and will always listen.

These boundary lessons fill me with apprehension and uncertainty, what do we teach our children? He is only 7 and impressionable. 

Until I figure the boundary out I’m going to talk to him about life, about directing his anger (not at his sister as well but rather at the source) and about the very boundary itself.

When the father gets back I am going to suggest to him that the elder child is not forced to be with his mother for extended periods of time alone. As cruel as that sounds, this little guy is just hurting too much.

To add insult to this poor woman’s injuries I had the talk today, it didn’t go well in the sense that she was totally oblivious to what I was saying, she just smiled then before I could get to the meat the younger walked in.

To add more insult, they’re back to calling me mama.

I’m not a bitch, I know how hard this must be for her and she has calmed down today either out of exhaustion or just acceptance, I don’t know which. 

Wish I had a magic wand kaboom kabang

Perhaps my experience with my own mother is to help the elder with his, the abandonment files are never far away, time for me to shake them off and open the covers…

Oi vey

It seems the lesson to be learnt in this life time is in fact confrontation, how to deal with it and stand up for myself. Not an easy one at that.

She walked in to the house like a whirlwind as I said in my previous post except it ended with a showdown of mass proportions within 2 hours.  Totally unlike me but she found a plaster in the corner of the bathroom that one of the kids probably threw there the night before and implied that I never clean the bathroom.  That was the last straw for me after being bombarded constantly with insults upon insults, insinuations and bitchy comments.

A dog marking her territory indeed.

So in a calm but shaky voice I told her that if she had experienced my last two weeks there might also be a speck of dust in a corner or a stray plaster, there might be some dirt on the floor considering that I haven’t swept in a couple of hours, if she isn’t happy with how I run the house she can direct all her complaints in future via the kids father and I will walk out that door till she is gone. 

She started begging that I don’t go, repeating that she isn’t a bad person over and over again.  I went for a walk, sat in the park and prayed to Puppet Master for a reprieve. 

The thing is my current job is not of a nanny at, I do my Amberfiresanity work while the kids are at school and in the evenings and help their father out while he is at work and on the weekends.  I look after the kids yes, I get a small allowance yes but I am self employed period.

After all that happened yesterday, she spent the day cleaning and rearranging all the furniture, she turned to me and said “Can you please clean up the mess in the kitchen after lunch, I have been cleaning all day” in this totally derogatory tone.  I smiled and said sure, I like a clean kitchen.  I did my usual, loaded the dishwasher, threw away the scraps and put the juice away, wiped the counters down and rinsed the sink, swept the floor with all their crumps and then took a floor wipe and wiped up all the spillages of which there is some.

Guess what happened next?

No seriously… guess

She came in and swept the floor again, wiped the counters again and huffed and puffed.  Look I’m a friggin Virgo ok… that should tell you more than I could explain. 

I’ve come to the conclusion she has OCD and I am not making fun of it either, her paranoia has reached new heights (though I think its old heights).  The kids  can’t do anything in case they get bruises, a speck of dust disturbs her to tears, she is compulsively cleaning all the time and she has only been here 24 hours.  No unhealthy food for the kids, no sweets, no chips, no non organic products.  The kids like to leave bubbles from kiddies bubble bath on their skin so that when I wrap a towel around them it goes snap crackle and pop – she freaked out really annoyed and said that their skin will try out and crack.  Perhaps she is right but perhaps kids need to be kids.

So folks today she has stated that we are going shopping, I shall politely inform her that I am not, that I am going to work and clean a bit.  The father normally takes them into town on Saturdays for “their” time, time to reconnect after a hectic week.  I know she is expecting the nanny to go with and carry her organic bags for her but that is where she is very wrong.

She is going to get told today my real standing in this household, lets see how she handles it.  If anything she can stop treating me like gum on her shoe and a servant to do her bidding.

If it weren’t for the kids I would’ve already left.

What the west blew in was and is… multiple broom sticks

Seriously now… MULTIPLE broom sticks… WWW shall be the code name for the next THREE WEEKS ok?

Right so WWW walked through the door gave me a hug and then proceeded to walk through every single room stating that its chaos and that she can see that she has a lot of work to do while she is here. 

Now just for the record I am a Virgo right, this house is as clean as it can be considering that there are still boxes that need to be unpacked but with no place to go or be unpacked to.  Kids playroom is in a state because they keep throwing things around but anyways. The rest of the house? Nice and clean, Virgo style.  Floors are clean, counters shiny, bathrooms clean…

She looked through every cupboard including my own, looked under beds, bathroom cupboards, outside, inside, the bin, the fridge, the pantry, the freezer… everything fucken thing!

She then sits down for some porridge at the spotless counter with her roaming eyes and announces that things will be done her way while she is here.  She will clean while the kids are watching TV, she will cook from tomorrow, she will buy food and that she brought food from America because its cheaper and better.

Note: She is a health freak that only eats organic food, throws the kids sweets away (the kids complain about this all the time) and won’t allow them anything unhealthy in any way.  The elder mentioned that at Halloween he won a bag of marshmellows and some sweets at a house party, when he got home his mama threw it away, it hurt him badly.

The kids asked me last night to stay with them while their Mama is here, I said that I would but I am rethinking this strategy.  I know the kids need and want me here but at the same time I know that this is going to end up in a competition which is the one thing I do not want to happen.

If she feels the need to compete for affection with the kids it will just screw them up more, not temporarily either but permanently.  They will start to feel torn and confused, feel like they have to choose or worse.  From the first 30 minutes… she is the competitive type and wanting to make her place known.

Another note on food: The kids asked me to hide their crisps/chips so that mama doesn’t find them as well as their sweeties… I forgot to hide the sweets but the chips are safe

I am now searching for an eyelash upon my cheek to wish for 3 weeks to speed by, to be able to see the end of this WWW.  My question is this… if she is like this in the first 30 minutes what the hell is she going to be like for the rest of it?

The kids expect me to pick them up from school with their mama, I’ve been told that she will be doing it… poor kiddies no wonder they have been so stressed out about her coming here…

I WANT AN EYELASH SOMEONE GIVE ME ONE QUICK

So folks, it’s me, the WWW, two angels and hidden bags of crisps…

That was this morning it gets far worse but I just dont have the strength to write about it… for now

What oh what will the west blow in…

The kids mother arrives today and by all accounts she is both a mystery and not.  I have heard about her and her ways, how she is and her personality but what state she arrives in only the wind knows.

They are very close to me now and I love them to bits, we cuddle, we love and they make me pull their finger on such a regular basis that it makes me wonder what on earth I should strike from their diet for the ozone layers sake!

The dynamics have changed some what of which perhaps one day I will talk about.  Last night as they lay in bed talking about all the different ways they can make wishes and have dreams they both in turn turned to me and asked me not to leave while their mama was here and then they asked that I stay with them for a gazillion billion million years.

What is going through their head I do not know only that they fear abandonment as much as I did when I was a kid.  Fact.  Their mother left them when they were really little.  My heart breaks for their little sad eyes, their scared apprehensive eyes.

No matter what the west blows in this morning I will stay and fend for them but the one thing I won’t stand for is competition.  If I get a hint of it or if she turns cold because they are so affectionate with me I will be forced to sit her down and have a quiet little chat.

I am apprehensive as well…

What the west blows in we shall soon find out, lets see how sanity survives…

Cancelling my subscription to drama

Its official, the craving is so intense that it seems to overtake everything that is me, my whole entire being, everything that I am… it succumbs me to the point of breaking.  I want to cancel my subscription to Drama with haste, no notice period, pronto zonto.

I don’t like talking about my drama of which there has been more than enough, it bores even me so I can’t imagine the poor souls that read about the megre offerings and dollops I share.  This visa thing is just another hurdle and due to its nature I can’t really talk about it in “open air” as they say but rather just mention it screws everything up to the point that I am once more in limbo without a paddle or a snorkel.

I am actually surprisingly ok with it but the people in my life aren’t, it has upset those I care about to the point that they can’t sleep, they can’t look at me without thinking that I won’t be coming back and the darkened mood steals my energy like a life sapper.  It’s not their fault and I can see where they are coming from but staying positive is what I do, what I have to do period.

Where this year will end only the puppet master knows, whether I have my sanity at the end of it is a totally different question whose answer I can’t honestly tell you.  Sorry for being quiet, for the reflections and the random odd, beyond odd communications at times… this week… it has been one for the books, one of those “gone on vacation to hell” types.

Oh God, I wish someone could tell me its going to be ok, I wish someone would tell me where I will be in a year from now and not have to pull every worn faith string I have in my hands.  Life never works with certainty all that well, I’m not complaining just merely asking for a time out from drama and in its place peace, pure unadulterated peace.

I am free yet constrained by new more exciting leather straps that dig into my heart’s skin.

Oi vey

One step at a time, one step for sanity and another for peace, just one at a time…

If I make little to no sense it is because I am still looking for it myself

I never wanted to have a child…

I have always been told that I am really good with children, that when they come into contact with me they seem to become free and happy, that they connect with me and talk about me for long after.  I love children, hearing their laugh and seeing them play fills me with warmth and happiness like none other.

I never wanted a child of my own for three reasons.

When asked when I am having a child or if I want children my standard response was a flat no with a capital N.  When they always inevetibly ask why the hell not I would tell them that medically the doctors have said that the chances of me ever having a child are 50/50 if not below.   My bulemia and intense sport training that happened during the same period messed up my internal workings, I’m meant to have Ultrasound scans every 6 months on a variety of places on my body but see little point as I don’t plan on having children right.

What I never told them was how intense or great the fear within me was that I would be my parents all over again.  The fear of turning into an incarnation of my mother or father settled it deep within me, I will never bring a child into this world and put them through what I went through.

I am still a kid

But…

… the kid is growing up

… day by day I am seeing that I am not my mother nor my father

… that the pressure I put on myself not to be them both keeps me on my toes and stresses me out to the point of breaking

… we may be the products of our youths but who we are as adults is up to us

… having a kid crawl into bed, wrap their arms around you and tell you that they love you calms the storms within

I still can’t see myself ever having a child with my DNA but I have finally come to a place where I can put my fears to rest once and for all.

I am me, I will never be my mother, I will never be my father… we share only DNA not personality, thoughts or soul.

An Explanation

I feel the need to explain the circumstances and the reasons for my decision more fully in light of a lot of comments on others blogs, emails I have received and verbal conversions I have had since the “happening” as I now call it.  I know I don’t need to but I want to, I owe it to both you and I.

I sent out a mass email to all those that follow my blog whom I trust and hold dear as friends, many were supportive and understanding, many sent replies filled with hugs, some sent questions, others responded with “It’s your blog, you say what you want to say” and some were blunt enough to call me crazy for over reacting.  I haven’t responded to everyone yet because I have been juggling like a pro circus human a million things which I shan’t bore you with – hopefully today I will.  I respect each persons opinion and value all of your thoughts but it has led me to want to explain.

Verbally I have had to explain the reasons as well which ended up being aggressive in the sense that the other did not understand a) my history or b) the person I am dealing with.

My other blog was shut for a total of 10 hours, the reason I notified everyone about the immediate circumstances was because I both wanted to let you know that I may not be around for a while and for the fact that when I have done this before for technical reasons I got a flood of emails going WTH.  I didn’t want to worry anyone and I believed it only right that I let you know why certain posts “moved” etc.

My other blog is now back in action and I am continuing to write on that one – all posts in both past and future relating to my life history and the people in my immediate life will go up here.

Some have said that if I wrote the truth on my other blog why take it down just because one of the past perpetrators found it.  There is more to the story that I have not yet told, perhaps I have, my memory suckloadith right now.  I am not ashamed of moving my stuff and it is not for protecting anyone other than myself, it is also not because this person still has a hold on me.

Lets call her Ursula

Ursula is the type of person who will kill herself with a smile on her face knowing that she has destroyed my life and that I would feel guilty for the rest of it.  Guilt is subjective but I know myself well enough to know that no matter who the person is I will feel bad and sad – for their loss not mine.  A person I knew back in SA shot himself in the head on Christmas eve, I haven’t written about it yet because I am still processing.  He was a mutual friend that turned into a verbally abusive arsehole, he does not “deserve” my pity or anything else but he was a human no less.  I know that some may say that this indicates that she still has a noose around my head, I was told that over and over again for a couple of hours much like an AK47 going bam bam bam kaboom.

Point blank if Ursula kills herself over the material she read on my blog that is her soul’s problem not mine I just rather avoid dealing with the weight on my shoulders – if I don’t have to why bother.

Secondly she has a wide network of people whom she can get to and in turn cause a lot of trouble for me, my departing that country is too new – give me a year and separation will be complete, until then I can’t risk it.  I don’t want others to be hurt just because I wrote history and brutal truth.  I also don’t think I can handle a full on sword fight right this minute, the crack would be too big.  I’ve cut full ties with her twice before (yeah yeah I know) and have seen her in true action, third time lucky huh!

Thirdly is control.  The way that she told me was by a simple statement “I really love your blog”, great thanks what on earth are you talking about my only response.  She proceeded to give me pages she had read and thanks to my online tracking system I knew that she hadn’t read any of my other categories.  Her actions and her words were all controlling and smirking like she had cracked the big whopper of lottery information.  By taking down certain posts I took back the control and she has been trying to get it back ever since.  Dishonesty lacks integrity being one of the prime statements coming my way, manipulation and mind games, constantly.

I keep my life very private from all family members, apparantly not enough.  Although Ursula has been on others blogs, commenting even, she did in fact not find my blog through them.  A family member whom I trusted admitted yesterday that she let slip.

What is done is done.

I know that my words are cold and my explanation loopy, it’s hard to explain an instinctual gut feeling, to explain the true darkness behind a person you are cutting ties with.  Right this second I am keeping a minimalistic channel open to make sure I stay current on the moves, this is a chess game I don’t enjoy playing but it is the last and she will not win… I learnt from the pro after all.

I feel terrible that I brought you all into this, that I can’t find the words to explain my decision or anything else.  .  I’m going to start writing about the last year and the things I left out because of who read the other site, going to fill all the gaps in the sordid boring tale.

Thank you to each of you for your continued support, all those hugs, comments, worries, uplifting words and kicks in the bum… hope this at least explains a little bit more

The New World… New Beginnings

A fresh start and a progression of healing, the life stories that can damage lives through the truth they hold.  My Journey to Sanity is a place of anonymity, no names just psyeudonyms with variety and humour (hey got to keep it fresh right?)

Thanks guys for all your well wishes, perhaps the talented photographer will have her way and perhaps this will turn into the manuscript she has been after for me to write! (stop grinning we know you are!)

I will not do this again but it was necessary in light of the people in question – the things they would do in vengence I don’t want on my conscience… that story will come soon enough.

Love to you all, may the journey continue with no end…

San

Helping strangers before your own…

A little while ago I told MSSC54 that I would tell my story relating to his post Homeless, Needy & Strangers and there is no better time than now. If you have been reading my story up to now you will know that there are funny stories then a few silly ones, scary and unbelievable ones and then a few morally confusing ones… This is one of the latter.

At this point, if you haven’t read Mssc’s post, it is recommended that you do in order to understand the where this is coming from.

I forget my exact age when it was really really bad, I think it was just before my 15th birthday. I had written my mother numerous letters begging her to come home, telling her that homeless was no fun, finding a roof over my head harder than she thought, cash was short and the going was tough. I begged and I begged till I finally got a response, it wasn’t the one I was expecting though.

She wrote me a short letter telling me to grow up, that it is not as bad as I was telling her and that I must just get on with it. She ended the note with love you lots, mom.

Reading her words I felt my heart shatter and an anger rise in my belly. That was the moment when I realised I was fully alone, no more mother to look after me, no more someone to protect me. I was alone and I had to do it on my own, no more thinking that someone else can help me or want to help me, no more relying on anyone but myself.

The next school holidays came and my mother returned home laughing and seemingly happy. She acted as if nothing had happened, that our lives defined normality. I wanted to believe that it was normal again, I wanted to believe that when the new year started it wouldn’t be like the previous one, that I wouldn’t have to stress anymore.

She always brought presents for others in either our old neighbourhood or community. Holy water for the Muslims, little treasures for this one and that one. She went out of her way to help others, bought them food and things that they needed. Normal for her, she is a very giving person, always willing to lend an ear to someone in need.

After having received that letter telling me to get over it and get on with it. Knowing that she knew that I had no money to buy toiletries or food, all my money going to the families I found for their roof and the food they gave me. Knowing that I couldn’t buy clothes that I desperately needed. Knowing that I had slept on streets. Knowing that I was defencelessly and alone, in need. Seeing her giving to everyone else, people that weren’t her kin or her own flesh and blood, her children, something broke inside of me.

From then on I never confided in anyone, I never complained to anyone or told them the truth of how bad it was. When I slept on streets I told others that I stayed at another’s home. I taught myself to go without food helped by my ex-stepfather’s constant implications that I looked like a pig and could kick start a plane with my thighs alone. I made money by painting to pay the families and the things I needed. Seeing her give to others so willingly while I went through hell, her not caring, I grew to detest hypocrites.

Back then I didn’t understand why she just couldn’t give me a permanent roof, why I had to do what I had to do, put up with the sexual advances from fathers that sometimes went further than I wanted or be homeless. I didn’t understand why she would allow her own child to be as I was. Mixed in with all of that was her telling my brother and I that she never wanted children, that she regretted ever having any…

As we get older a certain level of understanding comes along with it. Now I know that she did it out of guilt, she gave so willingly to others because to look at the state of me and the life I was forced to live by her hands would be admitting failure. Sometimes it is easier to divert your guilt onto others and help them instead, less acknowledgement, less failure, more good tidings and thankfulness there, more feeling good about yourself instead of feeling the truth.

My mother ran from her actions. Simple.

By no means is it bad to give to those that need, strangers and alike, those people my mother gave to really needed the help. When I asked her about it she repeated what was in the letter, that I was just complaining and being ungrateful. Her words broke me again and then the guilt trip started. I felt guilty for needing her, needing her help and her mothering, things that others worse off than me didn’t have either.

The people she gave to really needed her help, who was I to take from them?

The eternal catch 22

No, giving to strangers who need your help is a good thing. There are too many people in this world without basic things, things that we all take for granted.

Giving to strangers before your own family? You can try to help a junky only so much. You can find someone without a job only so many times. That all depends on the situations at hand.

Did I deserve to be helped before those strangers in need? I don’t know, I still don’t, I doubt I ever will.

What is my pain versus another?

Who has the greater need?

Was my mother wrong? Yes for neglecting and abandoning me. No, for helping others who really needed help.

Catch 22

The Essential Mentor

Growing up, my brother and I never really had that constant mentor in our lives, neither his father nor our mother were very good at it.  They weren’t really in our lives much, his father was in the bottle, our mother was jet setting with her new husband.

What happened while they were away is inconsequential, what we missed out on was mentorship.  Children always look to the adults in their lives for guidance and love, they always search for a mentor as if it is an instinctual need.

What happens when they aren’t in our lives can be disastrous, we look to others to fill that need and they in turn might not be the kind of mentors one would wish for.  So many kids, because they don’t fill their mentorship need at home, get in with the wrong crowd thinking that they will fill it.  Call it peer pressure, I call it the need to fill a need.

My brother and I grew up together but only for the first 7 years of his life, I looked after him, fed him, helped him with his home work and even tried to kill him a few times as kids do.  For my high school "career" I went to a boarding school 3 hours away and at the same time my brother was put into a boarding school 20 minutes away.  Her husband complained about the time he had with her, this is what she told me when she placed me in the hostel.

When our mother packed up for Saudi he went to live with his father and I, as you know from past posts, lived in the hostel and during school holidays and weekends homeless.  In the space of a minute we went from seeing each other every month to not seeing each other for 6 months on end.  From that minute onwards we got to see each other twice a year until I finished school.

My brother only had his father, one whom he half carried home every night from the pub where he hibernated drinking his soul into oblivion.  Porn magazines and videos everywhere, a senile control freak grandmother in the other room, he shared one with his father.

The crunch for us really came with a bang, flying to Johannesburg for a 2 night stop over on our way to Kenya.  It was right at the start of it all, him being 7 and I 14.  We flew in with the understanding from our mother that someone would pick us up at the Joburg airport and look after us for the two nights we were going to be there.  Brother in tow I collected our bags, put him on top and headed for the doors.  Nada, no human looking for us, no friendly face.

We waited an hour but my brother started to get really agitated, normally hyper he was sitting still looking at the door asking me ever couple of minutes when we are going to go home, when someone will come fetch us.  Stranded in a busy airport, no one coming to pick us up I decided to call an old neighbour from when my brother was a baby.  She lived next to us during the bad years when we still lived with his father and I remembered she had moved to Johannesburg.

Put the coins in the machine and she answered, I told her where we were and that no one was coming to pick us up, that I was scared because I had my brother with me and he was starting to cry.  She came and fetched us immediately and I was grateful that she never once cursed my mothers actions in front of my brother.  Once I put him to bed though she let me know how unimpressed she was with my mother’s mothering skills or lack of.

First thing the next morning I got a call from mother in Saudi, she was hysterical shouting and screaming at me about the fact that she didn’t know where I was and that she was going to call the police.  Apparently our ex-neighbour had called her while we still slept and told her to call in the morning to let her know where we were. That was when my heart closed towards my mother, her rage at my actions in my mind were unjustified, she was the mother not me, I was just a kid.

I can’t begin to imagine what was going through my brothers mind when he put his head around the door and watched me tell our mother that I was the one looking after him now, that I will do what I need to do, what ever it takes to keep him safe and out of harm, that she has no right anymore.  His face was blank, eyes big, just staring at me.  I’ll never forget that moment looking into his eyes.

From that moment on he looked to me as a mentor and guide, but back then I didn’t do such a good job either.  I was so wrapped up on surviving and trying to hatch escape plans for the two of us that I wasn’t there for him in the capacity that he needed.  I don’t feel guilt towards him for that, I do understand that I was only 14 when it all happened but he always looked to me as a guide.

When the shit hit the fan he would come to me, when he needed help I was there but often he couldn’t find me.  Those were the wonderful days with out cellphones and I never knew where I was going to be, what roof I was going to be under if at all.  I wished I was older so that I could get a job, get my own place and take care of him.

I left South Africa when he was 14, I moved to England to try and set up a life for myself.  Mother had moved back into the country and I felt that it was time for her to step up to the plate and the time for me to start living.  I left him at the worst time and many nights I have tormented over the fact that I did to him what our mother had done to us.  He got into drugs, started drinking and found a mentor in the wrong crowd.

No matter what people say, nothing will change the fact that I let him down, I was young but then not and if I were to live my life over I would’ve taken him at the first opportunity I had.  That is the past, I don’t carry it with me anymore but I do have that the responsibility as his older sister to guide him now.

Last year he came to me and asked me to help him, to guide him and mentor him.  It took a lot for him to ask me and I accepted, in the mean time he hurt me badly by saying stuff about me that was untrue, using me to gain things with others, things that I have no time for and told him as such.

Last night however he asked me again, he had a massive argument with his girlfriend in front of me, it was 2.30am.  As I sat with him I showed him how to handle the situation properly, told him where he went wrong and how to do it differently, how to fix the words uttered in screams and the hurt both of them had done to each other.

I realised all that I have written here.  My brother is still a kid in need of a mentor, he never filled that need growing up and seeks one now.  He has never been shown how to love, how to handle social issue filled situations, he just plain doesn’t know the difference.

We can’t spurn those who have never been shown but rather take a moment to show them the right way.  There are so many kids without mentors doing the best that they can do with the tools that they have available but not many people willing to take the time to teach them.  We turn around, I myself have done this many times, and say that they are beyond help, that they are arrogant and rude… but who has taken the time to show them different?

2009 starts on a new note with a new life for me but also a very big realisation coming from the words uttered by my little brother…

"I am who I am today because of you, I am all that I am because of you and I try as hard as I can to live because of you"