Divorce diet.

The last person I ever imagined myself, drinking the bottle of champagne, that's been lingering in my fridge, would definitely have to be my X husband.

Obviously nothing has changed, cause after two sips of bubbly he was more than half way there already...

The reason for this unusual occurrence was due to him having to collect his last remainings from my house (our old house), which I might add, I was more than happy to get rid of. Most of the possessions he took, not even Cash converters would take, if you paid them. Quite frankly, he could never be a pirate. As the saying goes “All that glitters is not gold”. I think this has always been a problem between us, his lack of taste.

Nevertheless, my house is now free from white linen that has been mixed with red linen – therefore stained (my bad),

about 50 files containing doctors notes along with expired medicines (holistic lavender drops) which he bought piles of, but never used, cello tape, a cutting board (10 x 10), a cup (yes, I now have one less in my set), a stapler, a toilet roll, two towels, two tins of Koo beans (which has been in the pantry since we started dating), a condom, about 10 cellphone chargers as he lost about 10 phones, the fridge that cant freeze, the broken toaster and an empty box which he thought contained a punch bowl, which eventually became apparent to him, that the box indeed was empty.

He also did insist on taking out the sage in my herb garden as he claimed to have planted it, but I think the champagne kicked in roundabout this time, which made him notice his cooler box which has been standing outside since we last went camping – 2 years ago.

I cant really say that I scored anything as all our furniture was donated to us by my parents. The only things we actually bought together was our bed and a washing machine. The washing machine can wash 5 baby grows and 7 panties at a time, so in retrospect is wasn't the best buy. I do however blame the sales guy who sold it to us at GAME.

In any case, as much as the experience was daunting, and having him in my space again was even more terrifying, all in all, I think after nearly 10 months of Cape Flats wars, we got along pretty well. I even think the word civilised would be in order here. I realised that maybe underneath all those smelly, eye burning onion layers there might actually be a person I could greet again with sincerity. - After all, he is the father of my child - Still respect is something one earns, and perhaps in due time it can be mended.

Then again, to pick up broken fragments and try to glue them together, never takes away the cracks. Perhaps just leave it as it is and remember it for what it was.

As the saying goes - “When two people decide to get a divorce, it isn't a sign that they dont understand one another, but rather a sign that they have at last, begun to.

So hereby, I finally cling my glass, in the air. Cheers!!  Who needs spring cleaning when all you can do is get a divorce?

At least I am wiser than I was yesterday

My biggest problem in life is – People change, and forget to tell each other...

I would go as far as to compare my divorce with cancer.

Its been an absolute torturous, agonising, drawn out, suffocating, crushing experience, where in the end, when death arrives, the numbness is so overwhelming, that death is far from being the  worse part.

I didnt even have chemo therapy, so the pain was constant and consuming. I never lost my hair, but I did however loose a couple of teeth (only two, due to stress OKAY) and developed a stomach ulcer.

Dearest divorce, Herewith, find my medical bills attached...

I got a call from our facilitator at 3 noon, to say that the papers are ready and we're meeting at six to sign it.... Here I was, trapped in my prison cell, waiting upon my lethal injection, due to my death sentence - and no request for a last meal.

As much as I couldnt wait to get this man, signed out of my life, signing the actual paper, is merely a formality. In all reality, getting rid of him, would take far more than just my signature. Everyone told me all the time - as soon as the papers are signed, its like going to the loo after being constipated for 8 months....not quite.

I had to initial 24 pages, against my will. It took about 25 seconds in reality, but emotionally it took 40 years – as clearly indicated by the newly found lines formed right below my eyes.

Just like dog years compared to human years...

Similar to death, your marriage vows, images of photos together, video clips, corny love songs, first farts together, engagement, fights, throwing things at each other – nothing too serious, slamming doors, kissing and making up, birth of your first born, moving into your first home – it all FLASHES through your brain, like your about to endure some epileptic fit. Some incompetent paparazzi, with his large camera and double volume flash, just snapping away, without your consent.

As much as your trying to hold on to these in a good way, they evaporate far into the universe, never to be felt or experienced ever again.

This was clearly no celebration, as I was so eagerly, confidently told by my friends. I even purchased a bottle of champagne, to cure my post divorce blues and cling my glass in the air, congratulating myself on this tremendous journey, well...the bottle is still lying in my fridge...

There were no photographers like at our wedding, capturing this “celebration” No one giving speeches of what amazing people we are, no first dance, no 4 course meal, no walking down the isle, no first kiss, no honeymoon, no champagne, no bouquet being thrown up in the air...Just me, Mr X, our witnesses and the facilitator.

After handing over the "textbook", consisting of me binding myself to some lawful agreement written out mostly in latin, my now ex husband, pulled out his hand wanting to shake mine, as a gesture of "we did it" "its over" "at last" “congratulations”

Good lord. Really? Really, really, really? We didn't accomplished anything?! Its not like we just found a solution for hill billies or a cure for womans facial hair?! Why shake my hand? What for? What an easy cop out.

At this point in time, the only hand gesture he was going to receive was my hand on his cheek, approximate speed R180km per second.

Nevertheless, I have, or I think I have, I TELL myself I have, mastered the art of calming my every grievous, flagitious thought, and narrowing them down to simple hand gestures like waving. Definitely not doing myself any justice, but at least I walk away with, uhm, er, pride?

So here I am, again. Crossroads ahead. Achievements : none. Ambitions : ? Age : 27...The great AAA.

Love stares back at me, with sarcastic, undignified hand suggestions : the good old thumbs up . The one that means, Good luck lass. Better luck next time. Like a silly thumb can establish my history in the making. Screw you thumb.

Then the “beating yourself up” emotional roller coaster starts;

How did I allow life to take me this far down the road of misfortune. How did things become so hopeless? Am I not in control of my own destiny? Am I not worth a second chance? Was it really that bad? Am I incapable of finding love?

Most people can look back over the years and identify a time and place at which their lives changed significantly. Whether by accident or design, these are the moments when, because of a readiness within us and a collaboration with events occurring around us, we are forced to seriously reappraise ourselves and the conditions under which we live and to make certain choices that will affect the rest of our lives.

So .... 

Stand back, Control yourself. Take only what you need from it.

TAKE ONLY WHAT YOU NEED FROM IT.

Change means movement, movement means friction. - Only in the frictionless vacuum of a nonexistent abstract world can movement or change occur without that abrasive friction of conflict - Saul Alinsky

Gaia

If your a father figure in South Africa, count your blessings, because unless you have a criminal record for man slaughter and gang banging, you have plenty of rights towards your child. 

My husband left, without saying where he was going, presumably, the shops, only to hear that he is on a two week ski trip in the Swiss Alps, and he is not returning to our home, when returning to South Africa. 

Obviously overwhelming desperate thoughts of panic would enter any normal woman's mind...I think I ate a loaf of bread with fish paste and jam, then drank a shot of tequila with milk and had a box of cigarettes all in the time span of 60 seconds..

Denial is someone who will then within immediate effect enter your life and be your best friend for at least a couple of months. Denial is also related to, I think they are cousins, or small cousins, Bargaining, Loneliness and Anger.

Nevertheless, my husband never made contact during this time, and never tried to find out about the well being of his child. I can understand this... I mean obviously skiing down the slopes, with a Heidi Klum wannabe look a like, is far more rewarding than a druling one year old saying gaggaagaa on the other end of the line. 

In this time of his absence, I tried my absolute best to remain calm and to not indulge by drinking with my new found friends, Denial and his relatives. I didnt actually have a choice, as I had to remain in control for the sake of my little ones.

In fact, mothers never have a choice. We always have to wear this armour of stability. It comes with the title. 

Thus, having had to remain calm and reasoning with my every thought of Vodka funneling, nothing could prepare me for what lied ahead in the next couple of months on his return. 

Obviously returning with big smiles, having had the luxury of an amazing ski holiday, his worries was more aimed towards things like, “Mmmm, I wonder whether there is big swell today, as I would love to go surfing” At least, this was his concern for the first hour, after he landed. There after things became, more terrifying than a township tour.

Firstly, I received a letter from his lawyer, stating his (understatement) pathetic reasons for a divorce, as well his reasoning behind custody of our son. He basically tore out every single page from my diary, and published it in order to gain custody. What divorce really does is, takes every single bad quality, you usually despised about your partner, and then magnifies it beyond compare. He would dig out old cows that barely had its bones left, just to prove his point. If it meant that he had to strip me down naked, till only my soul is left, then taking my soul and spitting on it, well, he did it.

Thankfully I had a sober judge that rebuked his nonsense, and after he abducted my son for a week, had to return him with immediate effect.

This then lead us to a long enduring mediation process where basically the law makes decisions for you, as the two people who were best friends for three years, are now the most incompatible people alive. 

Something in the line of a 27 and a 28 gang member in the same alley, 3 am, Mitchells Plain... 

It was during this time, I realized that, unless a father has a criminal record of shooting down his entire family with a shotgun and chainsaw, he has every right, to his child. Regardless if he has a 24/7 work day! This then led to a parent plan, where the mediator laid out a month to month schedule, which gave the father of my child equal rights to me. 

It doesnt matter whether your uterus and fallopian tube did all the work of growing the seed inside you as well as feeding it.

It doesnt matter whether you had to carry this seed who grows into the size of a large moon, for 40 weeks. 

It doesnt matter that you had to squeeze a moon out of an ant hole. 

It doesnt matter that you lost your perky breast, now have stretch marks – even on your eyelids – and have to be the one that wakes up all night in order to let the little beautiful oyster suck onto your breast like there is no tomorrow. 

None of these factors matters, because according to some law, some child act, that some psychologist like Freud decided, fathers can now have 50% say. Like some discount special.

I find it so peculiar that scientist have the right to use our children as their guinea pigs. Little innocent test babies. Every few years a new law gets generated and the custody laws change according to some psychologist with 5 grey hairs left and indents on his face to prove his rooted wisdom or something...or not. 

I honestly understand the importance of fathers, as I have an incredible relationship with my father. I believe that children needs both their parents, and by no means am I trying to negate the importance of either roles. I am merely confused as to how my 20 month old son, who cant even speak yet, can be separated from myself, for a period of 2-3 days at a time. 

According to research, Mothers are more likely than fathers to encourage assimilative and communion-enhancing patterns in their children. Mothers are more likely than fathers to acknowledge their children's contributions in conversation. The way mothers speak to their children is better suited to support very young children in their efforts to understand speech (in context of the reference English) than fathers.

No where in history has any father claimed a title such as – Bachue, Bithiah, Demeter, Yashoda, Dewi Sri, Eve, Gaia, Isis, Jocasta, Juno, Mary, Sita, Venus or Mother Theresa.

Some of the most amazing historical figures from decades ago, where bought up, predominantly by their mothers. Jesus, Ghandi, Einstein and many more, are profound men who walked this earth, with their mothers as primary figures in their lives. More recent research has found that maternal separation can profoundly affect the brain’s biochemistry, with lifelong consequences for growth and mental ability. Indeed, as one expert put it, the attachment relationship that a young child forges with his mother “forms the foundation stone of personality.” 

I suppose we live in an era where motherhood gets severely underestimated, where fathers try and over ride the importance of mothers. Where mothers are frowned upon if they dedicate their lives to their children and dont have a career. 

Are woman merely being seen as some surrogate, only function being, carrying the child...

Fact of the matter is, in the end of the day, God could not be everywhere and therefor he made mothers. 

Dear dear Santa claus...

Santa Claus, the perfect woman, the perfect man and the Tooth Fairy get into a car accident -- who survives?

Answer: The perfect woman, because the other three don't exist.....

This question has been running through my head for a while...now dont roll your eyes so far back into your head that your head explodes...

Question : Does Prince charming really exist?

More appropriate question, what qualities would prince charming have if he did however exist amongst the thorns out there?

The classical description of “prince charming” is – a typically well groomed adolescent. He frequently wears a sash or ribbon around his princely uniform, and often sports a small, waxed moustache.

Uhm....

The next question that arises is, why were Snow white, Cinderella and Sleeping beauty so easily satisfied?

How desperate were they? I suppose they all initially had legitimate reasoning behind their romances. Cinderella really didn't have it good. Sleeping beauty and Snow whites, lives depended on it. In all reality, they kind of did need that kiss in order to awake their death sentences. 

Obviously this will follow with a whole new set of questions. What man knows how to kiss a woman to awake her from such a deep sleep, what if his breath was unbearable and his moustache had chunks of food in it, what man, who lives in a castle would actually notice a shoe on his steps, never mind, go out and try and find the woman it belongs to? I could carry on, but there are more important questions needing to be answered...

I was only married for two years. My, not so prince charming had a totally different view on satisfying my needs. 

For instance, his ideal weekend consisted purely out of – time out. Now, time-out to some  of us means, a stroll on the beach, accompanied by a cocktail, watching the sun set in each others eyes, ending off with perhaps an unexpected bunch of flowers, or putting it in a more specific term – time together.

Well well well, if that's what you think your marriage weekends might consist of, think again...long and hard, and then long again.

"Time out" consist of : playing TV games, surfing, watching TV, staring at the wall (just because), scratching balls, spending at least two hours on the loo, going out with male friends or sitting in front of the computer, cause there is always something that needs to be done on the computer.

I suppose it is, in fact essential for men to take "time out". It must be challenging returning home from an enduring, tough day at work, to his wife, who just; cooked, went to work, cleaned, sorted the kids out, gymed, fixed the light bulbs as well as the door that's been off its hinges for months now and still manages to look absolutely fabulous in order for her husband to not start noticing his 22 year old secretaries legs and forget the colour of her eyes.

I personally dont think I am asking for much. I really dont expect my husband to come home every night with a bunch of flowers and massage my feet with lavender oils and then serenade me a poem that he wrote that day, during his lunch hour. In fact, that would be off putting, and by no means romantic.

I think, prince charming, would know what I needed without me having to tell him. Prince charming would not wait until wicked whiny witch from the west comes for a visit - and then doubting myself being bi-polar - before attending to my needs/household needs. The perfect man, does not need to be asked to do something....he just knows.

Hereby I dont mean he must be able to read minds, I merely mean he must have a mind of his own. A brain. He must be able to tap into all aspects of his brain, and in some file, perhaps on the right side, he will find -

Be sensitive

Love her unconditionally, just the way she is

Surprise her occasionally (not by telling her your fired)

Take out the trash

Encourage her/support her

Kiss her unexpectedly

Hold her hand

Always lie when the question “do I look fat in this” get proposed.

Laugh at her lame jokes

Just pretend to like “Gossip Girl”

Ask directions

Take the kids out on a Saturday, while she stays at home with a good read.

Praise her cooking

Just listen

Love her a lot and dont try to understand her at all.

See her imperfections, perfectly...

Look. I am not saying he is not out there, but your chances are more likely, that you'll see a shocking pink, black dotted duck flying backwards. If you have seen this, well, let me know where.

I personally have not encountered prince charming myself. Why this is worrying is mostly because I am in my peak, being quite young and all. If I cant seem to find Mr perfect when my breast aren't resting on my feet yet, well, things aren't looking too great.

.

To end off, I found this poem, which I found quite true. Otherwise, let me know if you spot that duck somewhere....

"The Perfect Man"

The perfect man is gentle—
Never cruel or mean.
He has a beautiful smile
And keeps his face so clean.

The perfect man likes children
And will raise them by your side;
He will be a good father
As well as a good husband to his bride.

The perfect man loves cooking,
Cleaning, and vacuuming too
He’ll do anything in his power
To convey his feelings of love on you.

The perfect man is sweet,
Writing poetry from your name.
He’s a best friend to your mother
And kisses away your pain.

He never has made you cry
Or hurt you in anyway.
Oh, screw this stupid poem!
The perfect man is gay!

Me, myself and me.

Imagine we could have a real life button that SAVES. Or perhaps some kind of a NSRI or SPCA for human relationships...

A life jacket is the only equipment, offered to save you, when your out at sea, in the case of an emergency.

Its purpose is to prevent you from drowning.

No one else can wear the jacket for you. No one else can save you. Your options consist of kicking against the waves and fight the powerful waters of the ocean, or to just go with it.

One of the things an air hostess instructs, before departing, is to place the oxygen mask over yourself first, in the event of the aeroplane de-pressurizing, only after doing so, you can try an assist/help someone else.

In nature, there are various ways of surviving.

Most animals and plants, have the skill to camouflage. Some techniques vary. Mimicry is a technique that consists of adaptation. Adapting to look like something else. An example of this is the hawkmoth that looks like a dead leaf. This way its enemies cant make the distinction between a leaf or a piece of food. A camel for instance, can go a week or more without water, and they can last for several months without food.

As humans, some of us tend to go with the option of camouflaging. By becoming transparent to the world, we feel protected, safe, untouchable.

However, this might work for animals, but in the long run, humans cant really survive this way. Its like playing hide and seek with no one seeking. Good luck.

People panic when they find themselves lost. Look at Quick sand... If you panic and struggle, you'll sink. If you relax however, your body's buoyancy will cause you to float. By being patient, and not aggravating the situation more, you'll find yourself being able to shift your focus and utilise your energy more specifically orientated...

“What we actually learn, from any given set of circumstances, determines whether we become increasingly powerless or more powerful.”

By acknowledging the present and embracing it, being true to the situation, your chances of survival are larger than trying to fight the inevitable. I have personally experienced this feeling of being lost in this over populated world. Sometimes I just want to raise my white flag or tattoo SOS on my forehead, but I dont think this will make a difference.

No one can rescue you, you have to rescue yourself. You can choose to drown or hold your breath for a couple of seconds and revive yourself....ask yourself.....

What have you got to loose?

loud voices

It is Eric Hoffer that once said that it is loneliness that makes the loudest noise...

The noise I hear is my 7 meter long passage way that echos back in darkness, “Hunny, I am home” As if I just entered the deepest cave, somewhere down the Abyss, which in actual fact is my home.

This is my voice of loneliness.

I think it takes bravery to be alone. It forces one to visit ones self, and to knock on those doors, and find some inner truths and reflect.

Some of us would rather be in bad company than be alone. Are we that afraid of our skeletons? Why not embrace this feeling of solitude instead? I have...

One does not have to be physically lonely in order to be alone. Some of us feel lonely among others. I did, through parts of my marriage. Some relationships are like two passing ships at night. You are aware of one another, but in the dark, you just sail silently past one another. Some ships let off their horns, or flash their headlights, but never do they stand still and communicate the condition of the ocean they are drifting on.

If one has to google loneliness a whole lof of medical health related issues pop up.

Loneliness Increases Alzheimer risks, loneliness links to high blood pressure, loneliness is the cause of ADHD, loneliness biggest reason for suicide? Apparently they have shown that loneliness can be just as detrimental as smoking.

It all seems a bit contradictory to me. I see so many more headlines of partners killing each other than people jumping off bridges because they were lonely. In fact, I think people initially jump off bridges cause they were in a relationship.

Advancement of Science, is the first to use fMRI scans to study the connections between perceived social isolation (or loneliness) and activity in the brain. The ventral striatum, which is critical to learning, is a key portion of the brain and is activated through primary rewards such as food and secondary rewards such as money. Social rewards and feelings of love also may activate the region. “Although loneliness may be influence brain activity, the research also suggests that activity in the ventral striatum may prompt feelings of loneliness.The study raises the intriguing possibility that loneliness may result from reduced reward-related activity in the ventral striatum in response to social rewards." www..sciencedaily...

Animals who live alone are :

Orangutangs, except for mother and child. Males and females come together only for one day to mate.

Almost all spiders

Eagles

Tigers

Jaguars

Leopards

Polar bears

Whales

and some rhinos.

These are all great animals. Question is, are most of these not going extinct? 

Leonardo da Vinci said, If you are alone you belong entirely to yourself....If you are accompanied by even one companion you belong only half to yourself, or even less, in proportion to the thoughtlessness of his conduct; and if you have more than one companion you will fall more deeply into the same plight

Perhaps its a question of control. Did circumstances lead up to your loneliness or is it a choice that you have made? Of course, as humans we have a need to have control over what life throws our way. 

In that case, I am choosing to be an Eagle for a while. I am spreading my wings, high above the sky, over looking what lies ahead, and when I feel like it, I shall descend to land and mingle among the the other animals in the forest.

The whole conviction of my life now rests upon the belief that loneliness, far from being a rare and curious phenomenon, peculiar to myself and to a few other solitary men, is the central and inevitable fact of human existence. - Thomas wolfe

oedipus

Oedipus complex : is a group of largely unconscious (dynamically repressed) ideas and feelings which concentrate on the desire to possess the parent of the opposite sex and eliminate the parent of the same sex. The name was taken from Greek mythical legend of King Oedipus who unknowingly killed his father and married his mother.

“The boy thus returns to the mother as a separate individual. That separation may be emphasized with scorn and a sense of mastery over women. that can also be seen in the long separation of boys and girls in play and social relationships. This is a source of male denigration of women.”

In the 21^st century we refer to these males as mama's boys.

How to identify these men through behavior :

1- Often these men are afraid to stand up to their mothers. These mothers are typically mothers who interferes with their sons affairs. The son usually finds much enjoyment through this.

2- These men, wont want to move away from their mothers. Perhaps even insist on living with her..even if your married to him already.

He is 27 years old, and still lives with his mom.

3- He can not make any decisions sans his mother. She buys him clothes. He calls her if he requires any advice, regarding anything...even sexual advice...sigh, no wonder!

4- He needs to call her everyday, obviously more than 5 times..

5- He looks at his mother for answers when it comes to making choses regarding your child. Not you, his wife.

6- He usually doesn’t have a spine.

7- He runs home, every time you have a fight.

8- He will want his mother to walk down the isle, on your wedding day with you – his future wife.

Unfortunately I have been a victim of such a mama's boy. I can only say that it has partly destroyed my marriage as well as my views regarding most men. They usually are completely oblivious and in denial of this as well, which ads to the problem tremendously.

I have however become rather paranoid and suspicious when meeting new men. I have a very specific list now.

Note to self, Watch out for :

1- Mother -in -law walks into the bathroom while your having a bath with your husband and sits down to chat.

2- She makes you feel bad for not giving her keys and free access to your home.

3- She informs you of all the other woman her son could have been with and that the one did win a nobel peace price.

4- She insists on buying and choosing your husbands clothes.

5- She always has to host sunday lunch, your husbands birthday and every other event, as your “just not good enough”

6- She insist you have a natural birth, sans any pain killers, otherwise your a weak woman, with no real pain threshold.

I should have known that 12 phone calls a day as well as the constant insisting of having to live with his mother after our wedding, being pregnant at that, were all major clues. Then again, I wasn’t playing Sherlock Holmes at the time.

As the saying goes – Q: Why would you rather deal with a vicious dog than your mother-in-law?

A: A vicious dog eventually lets go!

The Bible, Qu-ran and the Tanakh, all talk sense when it comes to separating from your parents when you become one with your partner.

I quote : Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.

I don’t recall seeing my mother in law standing in the front of the priest, saying “I do”

She has had her turn, and should have let me have mine.

Life’s journeys allows us to all have a turn at fulfilling our roles. Trying to constantly have take control over somebody else’s roles, will only destroy everyone. Freedom is not procured by a full enjoyment of what is desired, but by controlling the desire.

I have no control over this, but I do know that if God had the power to shut the lions mouth, caged in with Daniel, I am sure He can also perhaps do the same regarding my mother-in-laws mouth.