A Contradictory Life

Excerpts from my six/seventeen year old mind


We may be wiser because we are able to look back upon our former condition, and for that very reason have got to admit the courage of our earlier striving in which we persisted even in sheer ignorance. - Franz Kafka

I recently moved another Lifelist item to my “Accomplished” section; I bought a little three bedroom ground floor unit in a complex and I could NOT be more excited about it (eeeeeeeeek!). The official date of registration is most probably going to be the 31st of October and so the big pack has begun – I have always lived with my ma (except for varsity days) and we share everything and I mean everything which means on top of all the paperwork and admin that accompanies buying a house (uh-hum, flat) we now need to decide who gets what. It is kind of like a divorce settlement, only happier. Although I am sure many tears are still going to be shed! As a little family of three (my ma, sister and I) we have overcome many heartbreaking and frustrating challenges to to be where we are at now. Two and a half years ago we were basically homeless and my ma was pulling our family through on less than R600 per month. Of course a thousand and ten thank yous need to go out to my aunt, grandma and grandpa too for everything that they did for us but let me not turn this into the sappy part of this post, there is still time for that. Now, my sister is on a full scholarship to study Civil Engineering and has a fantastic job. My ma has work which ensures her independence and freedom, indulges her creativity with photography and scrap booking and has found love again. I have a fantastic job which I thank the Universe for everyday, a wonderful boyfriend and friends which I am proud to call just that and now own a place to stay. One can never say never but, never again will I be dependent on anyone.

There is so much more to be thankful for but I’m rambling…

Over the years I have kept, and subsequently destroyed, many diaries which I am now sorry about. Last night whilst clearing out my room I found one which has survived my purges. Reading it was quite an emotional, but a very interesting, journey. The tone of the entire diary is despondent, angry, frustrated, hopeless, one of guilt and almost every other adjective that can be attributed to a depressed person.

There is a pervasive myth that “artists”, including writers (am I a writer?), are misunderstood and exhibit signs of recklessness, addiction and depression resulting from tormented lives. In a way I guess this is partially true; all people have experienced some form of trauma in their lives – this may be to varying degrees and everything in life is relative – but artists have found a way to use their emotions to create something.

Family and friends, when reading this diary, please remember that I also have very happy memories from this time. In fact, I really came into my own during the last two years of high-school. I obviously just turned to writing when I needed to make sense of my emotions, people, life, what was happening to my family etc. Writing for me was a therapeutic exercise and since then I have been to various other forms of therapy, all with varying degrees of success but today I am happy. I am (mostly) confident in the person that I am, I think people do enjoy being in my company, I try to do my best for others whether they are less fortunate or not, I have begun to make peace with my dad and in general I have an optimistic outlook on life. Some similarities from these diary entries remain; still love noting quotations from books and poems that I read and I still feel an urgent desire to make a change in this world.

Anyway, here are some excerpts from 2006 through to 2008:

“A weak mind is like a microscope which magnifies trifling things but cannot receive great ones. – Lord Chesterfield.”

“To climb steep hills requires slow pace at first. – William Shakespeare.”

Sunday, 17 September 2006

Do they hear you when you cry?

Monday, 18 September 2008

She was never the same after that.

Thursday, 21 September 2006

I don’t know what to do!

How do I make my mommy happy?

I don’t want to live like this anymore

I hate it, I can’t!

Monday, 2 October 2006

What an amazing weekend it was until this morning. A constant fucking war zone at home. I am SO tired. Just want to get out of it. To forget. I am tired. So tired.

Sunday, 22 October 2006

What a so-called family discussion we just had. Fucking shit attitude from my dad. My mom is trying so hard.

How am I suppose to learn now?

How am I supposed to do well?

I wish my mom had enough money to get a divorce.

I am so tired of this.

9 years of on-going agony. At least that’s only how far back I can remember all this crap.

Thursday, 26 October 2006

How else am I suppose to feel numb? How else am I supposed to sleep?

Tuesday, 21 November 2006

It has been about a month since I last wrote. Things are still shit. I’m often hysterical at night. I wrote a letter a few weeks ago when I found out something. I might stick it in some time. I’ve been trying to study the whole day. I cannot concentrate at all. I find myself staring into space for ages. Always close to tears.

Tuesday, 24 July 2007

I cannot remember the last day that I did not cry at least once. I am so tired.

The problems people talk about at school seem pathetic.

People are pathetic.

All they do is disappoint.

And betray.

Wednesday, 25 July 2007

She is heinous.

She has ruined all.

Thursday, 26 July 2007

“All happy families resemble one another but each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. – Anna Karenina Part I, Chapter I”

“There’s beggary in the love that can be reckon’d – Antony and Cleopatra (Shakespeare)”

“Every time/Serves for the matter that is then/born in’t – Antony and Cleopatra (Shakespeare)”

“The also serve who only stand and wait. – On his blindness (John Milton).” – God can be served passively by accepting the burdens He places on you, not rejecting him and maintaining faith.

Saturday, 8 September 2007

“Fear less, hope more; eat less, chew more; whine less, breathe more; talk less, say more; hate less, love more and all good things are yours. – Swedish Proverb”

Sunday, 9 September 2007

I hate this feeling of regretting what I have said in the past. But then I think that at the time it was a true reflection of what I felt. What is so wrong with that? Can there be error in truth?

“Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.”

“We can all dance when we find the right music.”

“Live the life you love, love the life you live.”

Tuesday, 6 May 2008

” Tonight you’re going to go down in flames. – Cher”

“Love hurts. Love Scars. Love Wounds. – Cher” 

9 April 2008 (after watching the Last Kind of Scotland

I will do something about the disgusting people in this world. There is no reason for me not to. I am fully capable of making a difference. And what disgusts me even more than these monsters is the fact that I have done nothing. Nothing to even try and make a difference. At this moment I feel physically ill. My superficiality and almost a lack of respect for other people and their basic human rights is not something with which I can live. It is not something with which I am prepared to live. I am going to change. I am going to change the world. If not change the world, I will change at least something in this world. I have to make a difference. The only way that I can say that I have a reason to be on this earth  is if I do something and if I do something now. What can I do? I need to find something to do. Something that will fulfill my life. This needs to happen. Not only for the people out there but for me. My life needs purpose. I will ensure that my life gets purpose. And soon!

“A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other. – A Tale of Two Cities (Charles Dickens)”

“I believed, with the innocence of those who can still count their age on their ten fingers. – The Shadow of The Wind (Carlos Ruiz Zafon)

“Every book, every volume you see here, has a soul. The soul of the person who wrote it and of those that read it and lived and dreamed with it. Every time a book changes hands, every time someone runs his eyes down its pages, its spirit grows and strengthens. – The Shadow of The Wind (Carlos Ruiz Zafon)”

Friday, 11 July 2008

So many things have changed. The circumstances I find myself in. The people I surround myself with. The attitude that I treat these people with.

So many things that have made me realise my selfishness, my arrogance and rudeness. Guilt overwhelms me when I reflect back.

People deserve better than to know me.

Saturday, 20 December 2008

There is no-one at this moment in time in my life who I can pay more respect to than my ma and no-one who I can look more disparagingly at than my dad.

It is a harsh truth.

A truth with which I must learn to cope.

Tonight there is a peace within me.

I can only hope it thrives for a while, I am quite over feeling sick to my stomach most days.



…And then there were some letters to my dad. Letters that were never sent. Never read by him. Those can remain on paper, for now.

Did anyone else keep diaries when they were younger and if so, have you gone back and read them? Have you changed as a person, have your circumstances/thoughts/emotions/ideals changed?