Saturday 19 September 2020

Dealing with undiagnosed and untreated mental illness




So I went on the internet this morning because I simply couldn't deal with my current situation. I found this very informative and helpful. https://www.healthline.com/health/my-bipolar-mother-refused-treatment-for-40-years-how-i-coped

My mom did not refuse treatment, she has never been diagnosed. I don't want to make this a black thing but generally if you can function profitably in society, we tend to overlook your mental wellness. If you are clean, can carry a normal conversation and hold down a job, we look the other way when the rest of your behavior makes no sense. In fact we will be told about an ancestor who had the same antics and how hilarious it was. My sense of humor must be seriously lacking.

It became clear as day when I read Eyebags and dimples by Bonnie Mbuli that what has plagued my mother throughout my childhood and even now in her old age was a mental illness, that has gone undiagnosed and therefore untreated for her entire 70+ years of existence.
I am fortunate that when I finally recognized the signs and symptoms in myself, I had access to a medical practitioner who assisted me through it and I am unashamedly open about my use of Prozac.

People often say that when you go through tough situations, it is preparing you for what is about to come. Clearly I learnt the wrong things from dealing with Fakazile. I learnt to lash out and retort. Something I can never do in this situation. I realize my shortcomings and inability to care for my mom's psychological needs.
Having figured out how to navigate my own healing and wellness by myself, without anyone holding my hand is putting me at a disadvantage because I now have to hold her hand and I am not sure if I know how.
So I will research and learn, I will fail and try some more until I figure it out because I love my mother. She is the only parent I have left. In her own way I know that she loves me, at least I hope that she does.

Sunday 6 September 2020

Healing of Memories Part 8

 


Church ladies, hang on to your hats!

My God mother and I have always had a strong relationship, or so I thought. I didn't wanna speak about it when I was first told about it but right now I am compelled to. Something in my spirit wants to release it.
I watched something on TV that triggered my disdain for the 'church nice-nasty' attitude. We have normalized it so much and we try to look past it because we're all trying to be good "Christians".
Having 'holy' parents put so much pressure on me growing up. I knew I couldn't reach their level of holiness even if I tried. I did try. Very hard in fact. Doing this feels unnatural and a betrayal to them.

Anyway, my God mother is the only nonfamily member I invited to my graduation. That's how close I regarded her and her unkind words about me cut deeper than I thought was possible.
The terrible awful things she was going around spreading about me last year and the things she said about me in 2012 are related in that she's accusing me of fraud in both cases.
Back in 2012 I actually attempted to clear my name and set the record straight. I sent her receipts, which she wasn't entitled to because I naively thought it was a misunderstanding. Wrong! She was pulling frenemy moves nje, just like last year.
{For those who have never been employed, there's certain personal information that you give your employer, like your home address so that they can track you down if you have things to answer to post your employment tenure with them.}
If "they" can find her, they can certainly find me. They have all my details.

My question though is always: "at what point does God feature in the way we live and interact with fellow Christians?". Why do we spread lies about people and then laugh and smile to their faces? This is not normal behavior ngesintu, certainly not a Christian way of life. Miss me with the nice-nasty church madams🏃🏿👎
#nicenastymustfall
#churchpeoplecanbesoevil