The Birth Crisis in Government Care

What I saw at the labour ward after hours is haunting. To anyone, but especially to expectant mothers, and does not bode well for the next generation:

Indifference.

The three Sisters in Triage can barely stop talking and sharing videos long enough to bark orders at the women coming in with possible birth emergencies. Too scared to talk back, too scared to be anything other than compliant. We know the penalty for being “difficult”.

The lack of compassion screams louder than the beeping machines in the clinical, overcrowded labour room. The two mothers contracting while waiting to be admitted without making a sound. We can feel there will be a price for breaking the silence.

The odd baby cry. The nurse shouting out for check ups. Then shouting at the mommies-to-be if they have committed the heinous crime of falling asleep between contractions, in the middle of the night and through the early hours. The nurse shouting at the mommies if they are "difficult" (that is, expressing the pain of labour vocally).

The urine spattered floors in the bathrooms, where the mothers must fetch, then clean, their urine sample jars. No toilet paper in any bathroom, of course. This is just after the toilets are cleaned. As the night wears on the list of soilage in and around the toilets increases. I will spare you the details that are forever etched in my mind. Needless to say strong thighs for squatting are a must. Plus toilet paper. Plus toilet cleaning wipes for if you really got to do more than just wee.

Instructions are curt, the patience is thin. No explanations, just expected obedience.

The staff chatter among themselves. Loudly. No glances are spared as they stroll past their patients.

There is no miracle of life here. No miracle at all.

This is an ordeal to be survived. No smiles, and laughter, no sense of accomplishment.

Perhaps best summed up by how the patients rights placard has been defaced over time.

Patients help patients to carry bags. Hold the drip while they put on their gown. Share their toilet paper. There is no help from the staff, so we are all we have. We share the common goal of surviving our birth, or worse making sure our baby is not in the middle of a possible health emergency.  

Close to the end of shift. The staff are visibly exhausted. The one is sitting posing for the best possible selfie for her social media update. For over an hour. The other has turned up the music from some or other device, and is singing along. The line of mothers waiting for a check up to be admitted grows, and is studiously ignored. The admitted mommies ignored. The sisters are writing frantically in the files, getting ready for handover. We are referred to as "she" and "her". We are talked about as if we are invisible. Which I suppose we are.

As we pass each other our eyes connect and we share a look. The one that says I see you. I feel you. And most strongly of all: good luck.

Clinic Conversations - Social Media

I attend a government clinic regularly. Waiting in line (which if you've never been is a loooooong line, and usually there are many, many, many lines that need to be survived, which takes very many hours. I often have the most profound conversations in these queues with my fellow patients (and please feel free to take both meanings to the word).

One jumps to mind when reading this: The effect of social media on people. The conversation started innocently enough. How people are so concerned with their online social life, they neglect their real social life. How their happiness is connected to their "likes".

We then moved onto politics (as often happens in South Africa) and my queue mate pointed out, quite rightly so, how social media behaves is unfair on the children of the politicians concerned. The politicians are adults, and know what they signed up for. Less so their children. They still need to attend school with other children, and we all know how cruel children can be.

We moved forward to the dangers of social media, especially for those with weaker minds. Anyone struggling with depression, or any sort of need to be socially accepted, should stay away from social media completely.

My queue mate was especially vehement on Twitter being the most evil platform of them all. She told me the sad story of a woman who committed suicide after bad things were said about her during a time when she was already struggling with mental health, and then she read "bad things" said about her concert.

I'm sure we all know some sort of story about a suicide directly related to cyber-bullying. It's become so common it even has it's own term!

Much is joked about the internet trolls, and how brave they can be in the face of online anonymity.

I suppose the best we can do is to be the change we wish to see. Report bullies, report trolls, and be supporting to people online. In short, to tweet others as you would like to be tweeted.

The Sound Behind My Silence

It's not easy to admit to, especially being the strong independent woman I am. However I've realised something... The more we talk about it the easier it becomes to lose the stigma... So it's almost unfair of me to be silent when speaking out encourages strength in others. For we are not alone.

I've been struggling with bouts of depression and anxiety. For me I sometimes become paralyzed with my thoughts.

I cannot get anything done. I can't write, I can't clean, I can't attend to my personal hygiene unless I have to be around people... Because heaven forbid anyone needs to be burdened with my pain.

I wrote the below a few months ago, and never really planning to publish it. This was me journaling my pain, to express it somewhere. Maybe even to write about once the fight is over.

That said I am managing. I am coping. And the smile you see on my face is genuine. Having a place to stay, and regular food, not to mention work (YES!!) has helped the anxiety the most. I am also MUCH better than I was depression wise than this article. But that's another blog for another time.

For everything else I continue to breathe. And now you know where the silence comes from. Not to mention the disappearing act ;)

May this article give understanding and give someone else the strength to fight their darkness one day at a time 💜

The Void

I'm fighting depression. And have been for a while. I'm unemployed, as is my partner. We've had bad luck after bad luck. We've managed to eat almost every day. And managed to keep a roof over our heads thanks to amazing friends. And yet I'm struggling inside.

I walk in nature almost daily. Eat as healthy as we can, considering we sometimes have a budget of R20/day for both of us. Sometimes we get fed by others. I spend time daily thinking about my blessings and how much I have to be grateful for. I do everything "right".

I smile, I joke. I try stay active on social media: Liking, loving, and commenting on my friends posts. I share the positive. I make sure I get enough sleep.

Then another set back, or even just the sadness within, rears her ugly head and reminds me of the futility of everything. Cue the hiding of my tears. In the bathroom. In the dark while my partner sleeps beside me. Crying myself to further exhaustion with a bonus headache.

These are the days The Void calls the loudest. The Void promises no more pain. No more struggle. She is a temptress indeed. She knows exactly what to say, because she is me.

What no one sees is the weeks I cannot get out of bed... If I do I feel dizzy and weak. It's easier to just sleep, and avoid the outside world completely.

My teeth hurt from their neglect. I have a breakout all over my suddenly creased, parchment like skin. Which adds to the sadness. I used to have clear, elastic skin. Now daily I see the years etch deeper... A reminder of time slipping by.

And it adds more reasons to slip into The Void.

The only reason I have had to keep myself going is my kids... Who stay in another province with their dad. When I see them I feel great for weeks .My panacea is too far away to be with them. For every week that goes by without being with them The Void gets stronger and my strength weaker. I remember how much of their short childhood I am missing. How fleeting my time with them is...

I am forgotten by friends. I reach out and try make plans. To initiate human contact. After a while the rejection gets too much to bear. Am I over eager? Is my Void too much for others to deal with? Or am I just as unlovable as I feel? I'll never know. I'm too scared to reach out again. Rejection hurts more than avoidance. Not that I have the money to go see anyone anyway. So what's the point?

That is the fight. That is my mind making the fight harder, and The Void more tempting.

So when you tell a person with depression to snap out of it, that their circumstances are of their own making, you are feeding The Void. You are confirming their uselessness.

Rather reach out. Just be available. Make time. Feed the strength. Find compassion and understand that while whatever the circumstances are, kindness will go a long way. Or even just making time to be there. With no judgement. With no conditions. Without platitudes.

Try and keep in mind that if someone fighting The Void does reach out, it's taken days of psyching up the strength. And rejection bashes this so badly it regresses by months.

I'm not saying drop everything all the time. But if someone reaches out, and you aren't available, make time as soon as possible after that. Schedule the time.

 Don't forget them. And if they have stopped reaching out, go find them. Help them fight their Void. Ask them what their Void is saying. Or inner voice. Help them fight their darkness. Because they won't ask twice.

The Void won't let me.

How Arts and Crafts Is Saving Me

So it's no secret that I'm rebuilding my life from rock bottom. It's not easy. Especially because trying to build a business with nothing is kinda like trying to brush your teeth while eating a cookie... There is a reason we all know the saying: You have to have money to make money.

So I started beading. Making pretty necklaces. I also started creating collages of the pics and memorabilia I collected over my life (to get it more displayable, but mostly to take up less space for easy packing). I even started sewing. In a nutshell I started creating stuff. Being creative.

So first thing that happens while we create is we get a hit of dopamine. The feel good hormone. Which is important with the whole feeling happier thing... definitely good for depression and anxiety. 

The part that has saved me the most has been (as per the words of Psychology Today): Creativity is closely linked to what folks have called “divergent thinking.”

In case you don't know the word divergent means: tending to be different or develop in different directions. 

This divergent thinking helped me come up with a way to raise the money I need to be able to start up a business, without having to personally come up with the cash injection I need to get the equipment before hand. 

My brain on arts and crafts has helped me more than searching the interwebs for how to make money this, or monetize that, or how to bootstrap a business. 

I had the idea of getting pledges for my services, then having everyone pay at once so I can get the equipment I need, and then I have these people as my first clients, who can then recommend my services and then become my first line of advertising.

It took me 3 days to get this done!!!

A couple of years of struggle at rock bottom, hearing idea's from others, listening to motivational talks (believe me the amount of motivators out there is HUGE - especially when you're down on your luck), and all it took was a couple of weeks of arts and crafts to get the solution I needed. To get out the box enough to come up with my plan.

I have always loved arts and crafts. My kids too! Our usual M.O. is to paint, create, sew, cut, stick and craft our way to making stuff as often as possible.

Our kids in nursery school and early primary years have a special focus on their art creations, because we all know they learn different skills from art (such as hand eye coordination, fine motor control, creativity, problem solving skills). Then as they get bigger and progress through the grades the focus on art drops, and they are inundated with homework and text books. By adulthood very few of us allow our creativity free reign.

There are definitely creative people out there. One just needs to look at the creative solutions to various problems that keep popping up on social media to see this.

My thoughts this week are going to be what can I make? I am going to make creativity as important a part of my life as exercise or eating is. Because let's face it, how else can we change our life without changing what we do? And honestly I can think of worse things to do to change my brain than making pretty necklaces.

The Momo Issues

So if you haven't heard about Momo, then either you haven't been on Facebook the last couple of weeks, or perhaps you don't have kids and your group of friends aren't sharing this sort of hoopla.

In a nutshell there are warnings going around about a character, named Momo, who has managed to infiltrate YouTube video's of popular kids programmes, who then encourages kids to self harm, inflict harm on others, and culminates in suicide. Very scary, right?

Well yeah. If it was real.

The internet is blowing up over a hoax. 

And this isn't the first time, nor will it be the last.

The picture of Momo is actually a picture of a statue by artist Keisuke Aisawa, called “Mother Bird.”

I have kids. And I'm not scared of Momo, even if it was real. Why you ask? Because firstly I make sure I know what my kids are watching. Their dad checks their browser history, and goes through their phones for random checks. They can have their privacy when they're older.

Secondly I talk to my kids all the time about internet safety, about peer pressure, about about the fact that there are sick trolls out there who do stupid stuff. When they were younger they never had open access to the internet, I sat with them at all times. I watched every video and programme they watched to make sure I could vouch for the kid friendliness of the programme, and raise any concerns I might have with them. I kept it interactive. I have made sure that my kids know they can speak to me about anything, judgement free, no matter what.

I want to make sure my girls are able to grow into young adults who can look after themselves, and that they know I will always be a safe place.

As adults we are so used to this world being a scary place, that as we get these warnings I first instinct is to prevent any and all injuries to kids around the world by sharing. And some troll is enjoying a good giggle while we do this.

The biggest thought I have while I see the internet panic about another hoax is that a quick google would have prevented this story from blowing up in the first place.

Fake news, hoaxes, and rubbish (such as new illnesses) makes the rounds because we don't take a minute to google info to verify for ourselves before we share. 

As adults we should be responsible for the information we share. 

Now we have an artist who feels the need to destroy her work of art because of the backlash she is getting from this viral hoax.

Now we have people around the world up in arms to force YouTube to take action against a hoax to protect our children. When protecting our children should be our job to begin with.

Maybe that's why Momo made the impression it did. Is the huge backlash in some way connected to the little inner centre of guilt that our kids are so unsupervised? 

Just my thoughts. 

Hope they spark some thoughts in you.

May harmony find you.

The Champagne Bottle Effect

The world is filled with over emotional people. Look at how, for want of a better word, "mainstream" anxiety and depression is currently. All from being taught from child hood to suppress and repress. 

While today's children are being raised more holistically to manage rather than suppress their emotions, most of us were taught that there is no space for negative feelings. To hide our tears and fears. To suck it up and move on.

Then when we reach critical breaking point, like a champagne bottle that is shaken continuously, we explode.

Look at the world exploding with anger and violence. Look at the amount of people on some sort of anxiety or depression or other type of mental health medication.

If we look at a toddler who has a tantrum, in effect that toddler is having an emotional breakdown. We punish this "bad behavior" teaching the toddler that emotional outbursts are wrong, and sometimes embarrassing. Especially when we're in public.

Jump forward a few decades and we find adults who are struggling to heal their inner hurt, or even to acknowledge that the hurt is there.

How do we fix this? The answer is simple and super airy fairy... Love. 

Just as a toddler will respond to love while they struggle to learn how to manage their emotions, we need to find ways to lovingly search out our inner hurts, and guide ourselves through the pain. 

We need to find ways to allow for emotional beings to no longer feel embarrassed or scared to admit to what they're feeling.

Sounds really simple doesn't it? In reality it's not quite as simple as that seems. We need tons of patience to unearth the years of suppression coping methods, to gently ease into a comfortable space that will encourage the openness to reveal the hurt, and pour love onto that pain so healing may begin.

Most airy fairy sorts spend years in meditation and other disciplines to delve into their inner selves to work on themselves from the inside out.

Some people aren't even aware of how much they have repressed. 

Some might be too scared to start the journey to self development because the task seems insurmountable.

So as we come to the end of the month of love, let's think about how we can open our hearts to ourselves, and heal from within.

At the very least, let's work on the next generation and teach proper coping mechanisms for dealing with emotions, and break the suppression cycle.

May harmony find you!

Why we need to look at Toxic Femininity

I was having a discussion on Facebook (as one does), in the comments section of a meme with a friend of mine recently. The discussion was around: Why do women hate their step kids, but want the step father to love her biological kids.

I had the words toxic femininity pop into my head... Imagine my surprise when I found that it's already a term! The definition according to Urban Dictionary is: 

"A social science term that describes narrow repressive type of ideas about the female gender role, that defines femininity as exaggerated feminine traits like being sensitive, emotional, having a perfect appearance, and so forth. One can be feminine without being toxic."

To me it's so much more than the examples given on Urban Dictionary though (those examples in a nutshell is like hitting your boyfriend, and then if he wants to hit back saying you can't because I'm a woman; and women doing the mean girls gossip thing). It's the need to be right no matter what because I'm female. It's the need to have hair extensions, false nails, perfect makeup, and be the "popular girl" no matter how mean that makes me. It's playing games with relationships to force proof of love. It's playing games with the emotions of others. It's bordering on narcissistic type behaviour. Shallow, beauty queen types who see others as props in their drama.

It's creating a stereotype of a gender that girls and women are falling into. Like the hashtag we see flying around for toxic masculinity we need to wake up that women can - and are - just as possible of toxicity.

Where did this all come from? Why have we forgotten that we are looking for a life partner in relationships (not a person to fit a role). Why have we forgotten that the friendships we form are better if no-one is playing games? 

The airy fairy folk have it right. If you go to one of their gatherings (like a drumming circle if you want a tame introduction) you will see people laughing, hugging, and being real. You won't see women hitting their boyfriends, turning noses up at new comers until their social status has been proven. You won't see men getting aggressive because they've had a couple of brewskies and he's sure the other oke was checking out his chick. You might enjoy it! You'll definitely be welcomed so genuinely that you'll probably go back.

These are the people who have done the work on their emotions. These are the people who practice the "We are one" way of thinking. They know that we are all the same, and no one is better than the other based on their gender, what they do, or where they come from.

These are the people who look for, and create, balance in their lives. 

Balance is an interesting term. Best described by the beloved yin/yang. The balance of evil and good, darkness and light, male and female...

The yin/yang male and female balance does not require one to be more prominent than the other. It allows for male and female to be just as important, and just as irrelevant. It shows us that there is a mix of masculine in the feminine, and feminine in the masculine. It shows us that is the way it should be.

So how do we correct this? How do we change? Pretty easy in my mind (but then I'm special - in many senses of the word). We honour our differences. We remember that fighting for equality means that as equals we do not have special rights because we are female. THAT is equality. 

We honour the masculine and the feminine for the two aspects of creation that they are, seeking neither to change nor label that aspect.

It goes back in many ways to my second post from 6 Jan - I See You. 


It's about looking beyond the physical and seeing the human inside. Once we remember that we are all human, and that we are all souls having a human experience, maybe we'll drop the toxicity and move towards harmony.

May harmony find you!