To take or not to take: anti-depressants?

This has been on my mind a lot lately. Numerous people are on these drugs, and my General Practitioner has decided that the low neutraphils in blood (as they have been for 3 years, usually the result of a bad viral infection, which I have had) and the high liver enzymes (only a “mild vital illness” she tells me) have nothing to do with my body being unwell and everything to do with my mind being unwell.

How this connection has been made when I have seen her 3 times in 3 years is BEYOND me. I have shown the GP’s emails (blood test results and recommendations of how to proceed) to a couple of friends and colleagues and ALL of them have told me I need to see another General Practitioner and that the psychologist ‘prescription’ (the GP literally gave me a prescription with the psychologist’s details on) makes no sense in relation to the blood tests. Fair enough. I have a stranger telling me that I have to add chemicals to my brain and make it change, and a few people who know me well telling me that her prescription is illogical.
So who should we trust? ‘Trained’ practitioners or our friends?

I guess it doesn’t really matter which, I could choose either path, but the thing that has knocked me is: The Seed of Doubt. This has been horrendous to deal with and has made me incredibly angry with the ‘doctor’. I told her in the appointment to deal with the fluid (literally) in my ears and the cold and a horrifically itchy rash, that I had already been to see people to ‘investigate’ my brain and they said I was ok. At 16: Psychologist One, to whom my mother sent me to ‘be checked on’, saw my parents as well as myself, and decided I was the ‘most normal one in the family’.

At 31: my mother once again sent me to a counsellor ‘to be fixed’, and the guy told me to stop thinking I was Jesus, go out and be naughty and then use Grace to get back into God’s good books, because that is what Grace is for, as he laughed like a hyena between sentences… The book I was reading at the time was: “What’s So Amazing About Grace”, which had Philip Yancey writing about if he fell in love with a German lady, he would learn the language very quickly and be completely passionate about her and live life loving her. The Grace ‘language’ is not there for abuse, upon marrying her you don’t say on your honeymoon night “Ok my love” (in German, if you’ve learnt it by then ;) ) “This has been great, but I’m just going to go out and sleep with some other women now, and when I get back you have to forgive me and give me Grace” … this was literally what the ‘counsellor’ was suggesting I do. I passed a photocopy on to the ‘counsellor’ and his only comment at the end of my second and last session with him was, randomly, “That Philip Yancey is a good writer.” Amen! That ‘counsellor’ told me to take a mild sleeping tablet in the evening if I needed to, and/or a calming tablet in the day to help with my anxiety, post-traumatic stress and depression.

At 33: The third psychologist, also connected to my mother, told me I dress like a spinster, and I’m really fine because it’s not like I’m a drunkard or mass murderer or anything. He told his very personal tale about his abusive parents and that he’d had a very difficult childhood. Yet, why is a professional confessing their story to me? Same happened with the homeopath I went to by a suggestion of a massage specialist. The homeopath said there’s nothing wrong with me, not even the gluten-intolerance that I’ve only recently managed to deal with (read “Eish! London” for that story), nor the dairy-intolerance that can still knock me into sinus hell with a teaspoon. Turns out her childhood was worse than Psychologist Three’s, and I got her whole story too, she reckons I’m fine and I must move on and stop hating myself.

Body Talk Therapy, I tried that too, at the advice of a friend who said that the woman had helped her daughter. With nothing to lose and an interest in the process and what people are getting up to, I went along. First session was insightful, second worrying and by the third I passed her my diaries and high-tailed it out of there. No colour on her walls, she was an ex-banker, she continually spoke of ‘other professionals’ and their brilliance, at no point did she uplift herself or show me that she was confident in her own abilities. Her mind was full of other people’s words and experiences, nothing of her… she also told me I hate myself and I need to start loving myself…

So that’s 5 ‘professionals’ and 3 of them (I wasn’t paying attention to the first one) had HECTIC personal journeys and issues that they kept showing me they ‘hadn’t’ recovered from, forgotten or forgiven, even if they ‘told’ me they had. They showed me that they were overflowing with insecurities. How could I assume this? Because I had completed “The Artist’s Way” and spent a few months being up front with my insecurities, seeing where my anger and stress sources were and dealing with my self-hate. Yes, that had all been there, but by the time I got to them I was aware of it and working through it, and way more confident in myself than ever before… yet BAM: “Seed of Doubt”… The second ‘counsellor’ with his “go get drunk and shag guys” approach as he laughed like a hyena about everything, just doesn’t count.

“Seed of Doubt”. This world around us just fills us all with Doubt. The General Practitioner (the second one to tell me to take anti-depressants) had originally told me she was Christian and she prayed with me and told me to keep my faith and pray through it, all prayers are answered. From that she moved to it’s been a few years now, go take anti-depressants…

I sit back and ask: Where is the line between faith that God knit me in the womb, He has a plan for me and I must live that plan, no matter how challenging, on faith and trust in HIM and that HE will heal me… and God now wants me to trust man and take drugs so that may or may not be targeting the right chemical set-up in my brain as directed by human guess-work? When do I stop trusting that God gives me the strength to cope with anything, and say: “Ok God, Your strength must be in man-made chemicals now.”? It’s easy to argue that. God made man with brains to make chemicals to ‘fix’ us… but isn’t that then saying that God made us incorrectly in the first place? Would God make a plan where He created us in a way where chemicals were needed because He “didn’t get the brain waves quite right”? Or the ‘devil’ has so much control that we need chemicals to undo what the ‘devil’ has done?

I have journaled and prayed over this… and what has resulted is this (NB – This ONLY refers to me and IS NOT written as an ‘answer’ for anyone else): People want you to join them, because they take the drugs and they don’t want to be alone in their dependency. The more people taking them, the more it can rationalise that they/drugs are “ok”, when their Souls know that it is not “ok”. Their Souls know that the anti-depressants are merely blocking out their Truth and their Strength, for they do not believe in their strength, or Mine. What one believes becomes one’s mental truth, but it cannot be the Soul-Truth, because the Soul’s Truth is that you are all loved beyond comprehension, you are all stronger than you could ever know and that you are all connected through the beautiful energy of humanity. Yet this energy entails responsibility to love, to give, to forgive, to be honest, to be open, to share, to be quiet, to feed the Soul on good things and show kindness, tolerance and live peacefully.

Sadly, this is a broken world, and in this broken world people have decided to be led by their Ego’s and their bodily desires to ‘be healthy’, without knowing what ‘healthy’ is. To “be happy” without knowing what “happy” is. To be “normal”, without knowing what “normal” is. To “love”, without knowing what “love” is… In not knowing that old Chinese Truth of Yin and Yang, the Ego wants only ‘the good’ and it will fight with chemicals, drugs, distractions and everything else to extinguish ‘the bad’, yet this is not ‘natural’ or ‘normal’, even if media and other lost ‘powers’ and people portray it as such.

It is not ‘right’ to have ‘dark without light’, it is not ‘normal’ to have ‘birth without death’. You can’t have hope, if you have had no tragedy, you can’t know ‘strength’ if you have not known ‘weakness’. You cannot know ‘happy’ if you have not known ‘sad’. People of the world have not been educated or advised to know this Truth of the Yin and the Yang, they do not accept that the intensity of their experiences on earth will be matched on both levels of the spectrum of “Life”, and not only on one side. To only experience “one” “Happy” side of life is imbalanced.

The chemicals placed in the brain will switch off the life experiences, will dull the passion for living, will ‘calm’ you to a point where the intensity of your experience of life will be limited in both the glory and the depression. The two must be together, until the Soul reaches the point where it knows and has lived through it all and thus realises that it has all only been experience. At the end of each and every experience you were still again and knew that GOD WAS THERE. Live it all, and then be still and know…

Anti-depressants take away the roller-coaster emotions and experiences and make them easy kiddie’s-train experiences. This is the gift of choice at work. You may choose the raging river and waterfalls, or the paddling pool as your place to be. Ideally, you should experience both the rapids and the paddling pool, but you should not stop or stay at one point. Taking the anti-depressants is an option, and so is not taking them. It is your choice as to what you believe in and what you want to experience. BUT, if you choose Me, God, Love, Knowing and PEACE in My presence every day, then you do not need any chemicals, for I have an INCREDIBLE PLAN for you, I did knit you in your mother’s womb, I created you for this time, with the skills you need, connected to the people to see you through, with the experiences you need, with My Love and Grace in bountiful measures. Choose Me, and you choose LIFE. Choose Me and you choose STRENGTH. Choose Me and you choose LOVE. Choose Me and you choose HOPE.

Choose man, choose chemicals, choose to use and follow what is offered by a broken world, full of broken people who have not chosen Me, and you too will have to be broken and hurting and lost. This is no grand thought, or difficult equation, it is the most logical outcome and consequence possible.
Choose God and Love and you choose LIFE and LOVE. Choose the world and you choose broken and hurting.
It all depends on your questions: how you phrase them and how answer them… Is ‘easier’ what you want on your gravestone?
Is a deadened mind what you want? Is a faithless life what you want? Is a drugged up Soul what you want? Is ruling by your body what you want? Is trust in a broken world what you want to choose?
It’s freedom of choice. It’s up to you… but, really, think about it… really think about it… before you decide.

Awesome News :-) Thank-You

I received this text message yesterday morning:
Morning, received this message from the principal: ‘Have heard from our learner’s Mother – her daughter found safe with the Hawks {S.A. Police Crime Unit} and will be coming home on Tuesday.'” … that will be the 5/5/2015

Thank-You Father God for Your hand in this case. Thank-You for saving innocent girls. Thank-You for the work of the incredible police officers and crime units around the world who persevere in faith, hope and hard work to bring light where there is darkness and help when things seem so helpless. Thank-You for the counsellors who deal with so many traumatised people day in and day out. Thank-You for medics who handle pain, death and suffering each day; and that all of them do it to make the world a better place and assist strangers all around them, of their own free-will, even when circumstances and a secular world would have them take an easier route in their lives.

Lord, I pray that we will all learn to practise and be blessed with such open and generous kindness too, in our own time and efforts, no matter what we are doing in our daily lives. That we bring glory and thanks to You, thanks that Love, Goodness, Kindness and Victory are on Your agenda and that your angels are scattered around the world as human hands stretching out to connect in understanding and knowing every day, in full awareness of what really matters, Lord: such sacrificial love as demostrated by Your Son, Jesus Christ.

THANK-YOU Father for the Prayer Warriors amongst us and those who Know and practise living a life that glorifies You as they are a part of Your Eternal Story, and not just living in the importance of material things and their own single, short, temporal and often meaningless story.

Thank-You Lord for the return home of Your dear child, Your lamb, may she go on to use her story as testimony and may You bless her with the strength, patience, perseverance and courage to share of her trauma to help other young ladies stay safe and out of the clutches of sick, sick, sick men Lord.

Thank-You for keeping Your promise Lord and answering our prayers.
Thank-You so so so much Lord,
All My LOVE,

Follow up on prayer request…

On Saturday night I had a very vivid dream – I could see the learner exactly… she had reached safety with her school fellows around her, but she was traumatised and couldn’t stop crying … Still, my relief that she was returned home was phenomenal… so that’s what I’m praying for. That relief in real life. That relief in my day with knowing she is back where she should be and her teacher is marking her present on the register…
PRAYERS continue…

Further to this, in 2014 I bought a DVD recorded from the presentations made at the PASSION CITY CHURCH gathering in 2012. The recording sounded like the presenters were in a metal fishbowl, so I stopped watching after one talk and meant to return it. It was bought on extreme discount however, so I couldn’t justify the fuel to go back, so I left it… Last night our preacher was off duty and replaced by one I don’t enjoy, so I opted not to go… I needed something else instead, so I picked up the Double DVD box and put in the second disc, where the guy spoke of the other talk by Christine Caine and how much he agreed with her on losing children! Could it be?

I took out DVD 2 and put in DVD 1 and her talk on … BAM – Human Trafficking and that in today’s ‘modern’ world there are about 27 MILLION human beings who are currently slaves!
She spoke of her mission to work on and save those who have been and are being trafficked.
She spoke of the horrors of how it is done. Mindblowing – SURREAL – HORRIFIC! Raping the girls seven times a day in uniforms of the law so that they submit in fear of everything in order to ‘perform’ in the brothels they are sent to. In the case she was speaking of 5 of the 60 girls shipped across the European Seas in a shipping container, who then suffered hell, arrived at the final destination…

The timing of watching the DVD was perfect. The answers to my questions were horrific. BUT I know God is listening to our prayers and He is with her, bringing her to safety.
Thank-You Lord, Amen.


I know I’m not supposed to post this. I know it’s supposed to be hush hush, but I’m SICK of hush hush. I’m sick of rapists being allowed to rape, Islamists being allowed to kill, drug-dealers having a clientele, prostitutes having a clientele, child-porn creators having an audience, alcohol being abused and the people in control of it all carrying on like it’s as healthy as making a salad, and those buying it, like it’s as acceptable as buying that salad. It makes me sick to emotional drainage, nausea and Soul-destruction. Sick that I live in a world where people are not active against destruction and simply don’t care, so long as they are ok and it’s not effecting them. Sick that people cry ‘ubuntu’, yet have 4 houses when others have none; have stores of food and feasts, when others are starving; earn hundreds of thousands, even millions, by exploiting others who have so little. I’m sick of it all.

It’s a good thing hardly anyone reads my blogs {except for one guy who has mocked and made a joke out of most of my writings over the years (I’ve now come home to the third bee corpse I’ve had to dispose of  ghosts… & I can’t stand cats), I’m not even going to read what he mocks about this blog}. I type ‘a good thing’, because the chances of the people concerned ever reading my blog, on what I’ve been told to “keep quiet about”, are slim.

THE POINT OF THIS – Our Drama teaching community is small and when one of us suffers we all suffer. The latest horror: In our area, one of our matric learners has been abducted into a large, prostitution trafficking ring. I know this happens throughout the world, but it’s always strangers, it’s never hit me so near home. This time it is one of OUR GIRLS. I know Barak Whatever has kidnapped and shipped off girls from middle-Africa and nothing has been done about it, they are just allowed to. But this time, one of our girls went to visit her family in Gauteng, South Africa and was abducted during the April 2015 Easter Holiday. Now her teacher has to mark her absent every day on the register. Why? Because some men are evil, immoral, corrupt and depraved, those are the only words that I can use, none others will fit into this horror. Because these so-called ‘men’ drug and kidnap young girls, and then force them to open their legs so that strangers can stick their filth inside the vagina of poor, under-aged, innocent girls. To me, this is: HORRIFIC!!! And even more loathsome because there are men who see that this is something they should do with their lives:
1) Make Money off God’s beautiful women through deceitful, nasty, predatorial, manipulative, selfish and ghastly means. It is abhorrent to me in every single way, from every single angle.
2) Be so consumed with their greed, power and penis satisfaction that they have NO IDEA what love is, and NO IDEA how much they are hurting other human beings, because they haven’t evolved from the fascination of standing up for the first time before they were one year old and seeing a dangling bit in front of them, which later goes hard.
3) Not learn to protect other human beings, not learn that their role as a “MAN” is to protect – i.e. DO NOT HURT! DO NOT HARM! DO NOT DAMAGE women or children, with their natural, so-called ‘manly’, physical strength.

Why is there a desire to hurt, harm, ‘prove’, use and abuse women when everyone ALREADY KNOWS that many MEN ARE PHYSICALLY STRONGER??? How is supporting prostitution, supporting the drugging and smuggling of innocent women “MANly”? How is it possible to look at yourself in the mirror and say “I’m a man because I can pay money for my penis to be satisfied”? IT IS ABSURD!!!

Our learner who was abducted by these thieves, and is currently being searched for by her mother and the police task force who are trying to get the ring closed down, is a funky girl. She has lived through a lot, was desperate to get her matric certificate (Grade 12), and was ready to enjoy her life with only a few months to go, and now… now we have a mother in agony, we have her friends in tears, a distraught teacher and a society that says we must just keep quiet and let the police get on with their job! When did protecting our own, fighting for our rights, our safety, our children become only a problem for the police? When was it ok that one woman was captured, never mind dozens and dozens?

Why do we live in such silence and desire to be ostriches? Why is the school not doing anything other than communicating with the police? Surely, as it claims to be a “Christian School”, the school should have everyone on all night prayer vigils, or prayers in assembly, or prayers at break, or prayers on this D6 communicator that schools have been sold into for a lot of money… Why are they, we, me, stuck in this horrid system that is suffocating us?

Money… money for kidnapping the girls and selling them… money for the pimps and madams selling out these girls… money for the drugs to keep them stuck in some foreign country as slaves to the pimps and madams selling them… no family, barely any way to keep their faith, treated as trash… for bits of paper, bits of the remnants of once beautiful trees, now just a few square centimeters with the pictures of dead people on them… all this pain and suffering to make and gather pictures of dead people… it makes me so sick!

I feel so helpless, so held back, so angry, frustrated, hurt and beside myself that I have to call myself ‘human’ alongside the vile creatures who have chosen to live a life so wretched that my mind cannot compute it on any level; other than the culprits must live in deep, dark fear or deadness within themselves; are truly the ultimate form of “WEAK” and are so deprived of life and love that hurting, abusing, using and manipulating others means absolutely nothing to them… LORD HELP THEM, PLEASE…

I’m blogging this to ask that anyone who reads it please pray for the success of the police-task force in this situation, and all others. That our learner be returned home to those who love her and will look after her and help her heal. That the women out there who voluntarily choose prostitution, will be the only ones used for the purposes of the job. That Human Trafficking and involuntary drugging will stop.

Please pray that whatever our learner, the police and/or her family need for her escape and/or rescue will be provided by Our Almighty Father in Heaven in Perfect Timing. That whatever needs to change in her abductors will change for the better, for their realisation that harming and destroying the lives of others, without the victim’s permission, is beyond heinous, horrific, selfish, weak and shameful.

Please pray for everyone to wake up and stop letting these marginal little groups create and dictate the fear of the masses and destroy a world that we should be guardians of, and not destroyers of. That we would all stop living in the inertia of fear and inability to act.
My colleagues, the learners, the family, the guys out there in the frontline and I, all thank-you for every prayer you whisper and/or cry out in this regard. Please keep praying. PLEASE.
May God bless you and yours, keep you safe, and never let you have to live through this horror. Amen.

Post 177 … the MADNESS continues…

Option 4 – Write poetry … so an old one for this post… not much I can do, but poetry, I can ;-):

What I can do

To stop thinking of you?
To stop remembering you?
To stop caring about you?

In other words:

Measure the depth of the ocean.
Ride a burning comet.
Stop being all that I am.

I promise, I tried.
Believe me, I can’t.
This is in God’s hands,
He’s holding my heart.

Never again to contact you?
Make no mistake,
No song and dance about it,
This I can create.
It is something I can do.
And you have it, my gift to you,
The only present you ever requested,
I give with gratitude.
No more of vitamen me for you
Or you for me.

God help me

PART ONE: Death thoughts

I’m going to be honest here, after all, isn’t that what blogging’s about? Not that I’m ever ‘deceitful’, it’s just that one chooses the topics one blogs about and edits the blog so as to ensure that one does not look like a completely self-absorbed, arrogant, rude, pretentious ass. . . Well, some of us anyway.

A taboo topic though – Death, linked with a predominant topic – Love, those are what were in my space as I woke up this morning; part of the head-space of having to talk myself out of hell. Not a nice space to wake up in, but hey, it happens. Fortunately, even though this morning offered thoughts on Death, I most often wake up with Love Songs and Christian Praise Songs in my head and then have to try and work around those too as they feel so ‘unreal’ and ‘fake’ in my current circumstances. I guess I’m just one of those characters who can’t be pleases or helped. And the worst part of it is, clearly, as I’m typing about it now: I’m aware of it! Most bizarre really, most bizarre. I doubt there are many people out there who would post a public blog to say that they don’t understand themselves, they don’t get why they are so dissatisfied and they don’t know what they are missing exactly or what they are supposed to do about it, but then, I’m not ‘everyone’, I’m just me and this is my story… I can only type it as it is.

I digress, however, as per usual, so back to the opening: Death. I woke up with the question: “Lord / Death / God {take your pick}, it feels like you are slowly killing me, so why don’t you just hurry up and get the job done?” Please note: This is in no way a step towards suicide, because I’ve chosen the whole approach of “Christianity” as my life-ethos and practice. I think maybe if I’d chose Islam or Atheism or Satanism or whatever else is out there, then suicide would be an option… a pity about my choice in this circumstance, but that’s just the way happened for me. So, because God created me in and before my entrance into my Mother’s womb in a cosmic form of Love like no other, I now have to wait for “Him” to decide when my part in “His Story” {history} is complete, and for “Him” to decide that I’ve played the role as “He” is happy with so that “He” can send me off from this life. I don’t believe in Hell {as per previous blogs}, due to the rationalisation that Love / God wouldn’t create me flawed and then tell me it was my fault and therefore illogically impose an eternity of suffering on me… which has made me think that earth is hell, separation from God, health, peace etc… but that’s another blog. Due to this reasoning I’m not for suicide as it doesn’t serve my faith-path. Yes, I could change my faith-path, but then I’d be stepping out of the incredible knowing that despite all the lunacy of this world, and my annoying Self, I am loved and I have received Grace. {Another blog too, but Grace is the factor of Christianity that sets it up as THE Choice when it comes to following a faith-path, if you want to be loved without having to be punished more than you’ve already punished yourself by not living in Love.} Still, all of this leaves suicide out of the question and leaves me at the mercy of the Universe / God / Satan / my own choices and consequences; I still haven’t figured out which one is really behind it all, or if they each have shares in mucking up my life. Maybe it’s 33% to God, 30 to the Universe, and Satan and my mind share the remaining 37%. Who knows? Not me, that’s for sure. Yet, here I am: TIRED.

I’m not typing about, “after a night out” or “a hard day’s work” or “new-born baby” tired, I’m typing about chronic fatigue tired – no evident reason at all, other than ‘viruses’ in my body (the GP said my bloods had too many in there to figure out which). Viruses – an infestation inside your body that you can’t treat, you can’t medicate and you can’t do anything to help. Viruses are their own boss and will do what they want, how they want to, irrespective of their host’s needs {Hmm, I’m thinking “The Matrix” and the virus of humanity on planet earth here…}. I’ve got 9, apparently, in my system so that’s one big fight between too many ‘bosses’ and no healthy workers in my bloodstream. Freaking SUCKS!

So I wake up in the state of my body being one with the mattress and bedding, knowing I must get on with the day or my natural depressive gene will kick in and I could find myself in tears before 7am. The thoughts of Death could evolve and turn into the frustration and anger that I’m stuck here with chronic fatigue, viruses and depression. As the Biblical King David did at the depression of the death of his son, he got up, washed, dressed and ate.

So, I know I need to do that too, but then my thoughts go to ‘eat’. ‘Eat’ what? I’ve now been off all sugar for 8 days as the homeopath told me that I most certainly have rampant Candida… {anyone who has read “Eish! London” will know of my battles with this already over the years}… so ‘eat,’ but no sugar, no wheat, no gluten, no dairy. No pancakes, no muffins, no toast, just the repetitive option of oats (I work through the occasional nausea, the gluten seems manageable there) and eggs… and I’d have to be careful in the preparation of any food in order that I don’t aggravate the eczema that has found my thumb. . . I also know I have to get up and take the acid clear otherwise my legs will be in pain again (my dancing stolen from me in Aug 2012), and I have to take the probiotics for the Candida and gut illness, and the Vitamin B for the stress and depression… Why Lord, I think, why should I get up? Why am I continuing to live through this? Death, why so long and slow? Why not just arrive in one bam – “Here I am!”?

How does Death answer? He sends the images back to my mind from photographer James Nachtwey, namely the “famine” photo … He reminds me that if that famine victim who has no flesh on his body can keep crawling, then I have no excuse not to keep going too.

Death always has such good arguments.

PART TWO: Theory, Love in the Brain Drive, equates to Addiction

Last night, whilst babysitting, I was in a house with an America TV connection that allows one to connect to anything digitally filmed, from movies to news to TEDtalks. After seeing the Xenophobia news from my city, Durban, on SKYNews and seeing the feeble position the world is in and how selfish ‘leaders’ are, I turned to the TEDTalks for something more enlightening. The photographer James Nachtwey’s talk was one of them. Another was Helen Fisher’s on “Love in the Brain”.

This morning, Death / Universe / God / Thought {take your pick} then took me to link the book I am currently re-reading, “Women Who Run With The Wolves” by Clarissa P. Estes, to my health and the Helen Fisher talks. Estes writes from her research as a psychoanalyst, amongst many other roles, that immunity is increased or decreased according to the state of the Soul. Hence my ill-health, which has not been healed by prayer, religious oil, 7.5, physio, chiro, sports massage, GPs, Health Point therapy, Acidity Balance Therapy, Body Talk, Artist’s Way Course and the like, could be due to Soul-discontent, in its various forms. I’m currently trying homeopathy and Body Stress Release Therapy to see where I end up with these options. Still, I have literally spent thousands of money currencies and encountered so many ‘thoughts’, ‘options’ and ‘diagnoses’ that I literally no longer know which way to turn.

I can’t blame it all on “unrequited love” as I was physically out of harmony and just going through the motions before the unrequited story. Yet, in watching Helen Fisher’s TEDTalk

I’m seeing that Ms Estes and Ms Fisher’s thoughts may be exactly the thing behind my ill-health, the fatigue and the lack of desire to go on. What the “unrequited love” did was exacerbated everything to the level of ‘chronic’. The scoliosis, the candida, the intolerances and even the ‘bad luck’, I was balancing and coping with all of them as I went on to accomplish things in my life, like getting qualifications, traveling, performing in London, publishing my work etc. Then, at 30, I touched this crazy thing which I can only term as “Love”, something I’d never experienced before. Inexplicable singing, smiling, happy thoughts and the like, all triggered by this individual who originally annoyed me, and was not the slightest bit like any of my teen ‘crushes’. In the strangeness of the scenario I kept myself separated from the situation and observed him. Over the weeks his eyes went from black, closed, heartless ponds, to literally sparkling brown hosts of joy. His manner went from telling me what to do, to literally listening to me and remembering what I said, word-for-word, weeks later. His body language involved several occasions with him randomly taking metre steps away from me whilst still talking to me… I observed this and much more. I drew the conclusion that maybe I wasn’t alone in my joy and ‘love’; after all, he was humming the ends of my songs for me…

I was wrong. After six weeks of interacting in the strangest moments I’ve ever experienced with a man, he decided to ‘drop into the conversation’ via my direct question, that he has a girlfriend. I found that odd too. Only recently, two men I’ve had dealings with, have mentioned every fifteen minutes or so that they have a significant other who said or did, this, that or the other. It’s like they subconsciously want me to know they are not available, not that I’m in the slightest bit interested, and/or, that they are in love with her, she’s what’s on his mind all the time… Helen mentioned that “all the time” in one of her TEDTalks (I watched two).

Here’s the thing, Helen Fisher, with her M.R.I. research into “Love”, says that “LOVE” is not an emotion, it’s a drive, because it stems from the same part of our brains that want to win, achieve and such like. She says that there are 3 drives in the process: 1) Lust, 2) Focus to one by romance and connection, and 3) Attachment, the desire for only that one in every way, creating jealousy, protection etc. According to brain readings, she says: “…romantic love is much more than a cocaine high — at least you come down from cocaine. Romantic love is an obsession. It possesses you. You lose your sense of self. You can’t stop thinking about another human being. Somebody is camping in your head. As an eighth-century Japanese poet said, “My longing had no time when it ceases.” Wild is love. And the obsession can get worse when you’ve been rejected… You know, when you’ve been dumped, the one thing you’d love to do is just forget about this human being, and then go on with your life — but no, you just love them harder. As the poet Terence, the Roman poet once said, “The less my hope, the hotter my love.” And indeed, we now know why. Two thousand years later, we can explain this in the brain. That brain system — the reward system for wanting, for motivation, for craving, for focus — becomes more active when you can’t get what you want. In this case, life’s greatest prize: an appropriate mating partner… Last but not least, we found activity in a brain region associated with deep attachment to another individual. No wonder people suffer around the world, and we have so many crimes of passion. When you’ve been rejected in love, not only are you engulfed with feelings of romantic love, but you’re feeling deep attachment to this individual. Moreover, this brain circuit for reward is working, and you’re feeling intense energy, intense focus, intense motivation and the willingness to risk it all to win life’s greatest prize…

… I think of all the poetry that I’ve read about romantic love, what sums it up best is something that was said by Plato, over 2,000 years ago. He said, “The god of love lives in a state of need. It is a need. It is an urge. It is a homeostatic imbalance. Like hunger and thirst, it’s almost impossible to stamp out.” I’ve also come to believe that romantic love is an addiction: a perfectly wonderful addiction when it’s going well and a perfectly horrible addiction when it’s going poorly. And indeed, it has all of the characteristics of addiction. You focus on the person, you obsessively think about them, you crave them; you distort reality, your willingness to take enormous risks to win this person. And it’s got the three main characteristics of addiction: tolerance, you need to see them more, and more, and more; withdrawals; and last, relapse… So, one thing I would like the medical community, and the legal community, and even the college community, to see if they can understand, that indeed, romantic love is one of the most addictive substances on Earth.”

In her other talk, Helen Fisher mentions that dopamine rises when small acts are done by one for another. I thought back to other moments with men. I was at a sports match with one and at half time we checked our phones, he had messages and I had none (that’s my norm), so he mentioned his and I replied, showing him my phone, with a “Nah, nobody loves me.” At some point, during the second half, he sent a text message with one line: “Somebody loves you.” I was incredibly moved and appreciative and gave him a huge hug and thanks, but had a lingering guilt, why? because my Soul was telling me I didn’t ‘love’ him, ‘in that way’. Another guy left work in Johannesburg traffic to bring me heart-shaped chocolates on Valentines, so thoughtful! Did I feel anything? No… and other stories; incredibly, gentlemanly delightful moments have crossed my days, but to no romantic surge for ‘forever’ in my brain (not that these guys were necessarily romantically interested – that was not mentioned) … then this one guy, from nowhere, walks in and bam! My Soul and Body are gonners, whilst my mind is not impressed. So I observe, I watch him and myself, and I walk away from the scenario feeling in my very core that this he is it… Catch – no he’s not. The man who imported wine from another country for me, is not interested. The only guy to ever buy me flowers is not interested in me. He already has a girlfriend; he just chose not to tell me for six weeks…

Unfortunately for me, the damage is done. The dopamine started its course within me, his gestures and games reached my brain and now I sit, years later, with an addiction – tolerance (madness), withdrawal and relapse – that I cannot get rid of. With a mind-rationality that is telling my Soul/dopamine that he is not interested. With a mind that is trying to undo all the chemicals that can’t be undone. It’s exhausting. Absolutely chronically fatiguely EXHAUSTING.

Furthermore, Helen did not mention how long it takes to get over the ‘addiction’. She said she did not know why, that one, and only that one is the one we react to. She did not even mention the synchronicity factors that have bombarded me for years (my imagination?). For examples: That his name is that of a Biblical character, which I often have to face… How a poet, continents away from me, who continuously writes of love and romance randomly chooses to write a poem about cement (literally), as we’re cementing our driveway… How he then randomly writes a poem about death and funerals (the week I go to the heartbreaking funeral of my dear friend’s mother), telling those who have lost people to tell the bees, and that very same week my fourth storey apartment finds bees inexplicably flying in, with one even slowly walking up my arm… She didn’t explain how it is possible that I could, randomly, receive 1 – 7 associations with this ‘rejected love male’ every day for years, associations I could in no way have called, organised or prevented (as far as I’m aware or have been able to figure out). It is exhausting to fend off associations from my brain-imagination-created-addiction every day…

Yes, the doctors are looking at my blood, therapists are trying to release the stress, homeopaths are trying to remedy, my body is slowly collapsing due to viruses, but is it all being fed by my brain that is on a cocaine high it can’t come down from? Am I purely fighting off an intense addiction? Is it psychosomatic like Estes claims? Is it something I can ever heal from? Is it the will of God? Is it the Devil trying to convince me that he does exist, because I still can’t rationalise that he does? Is it a Universe with a sick sense of humour? Is it all from the power of a force that Estes calls “The Predator in the Psyche”? Is it another person using their brain power to keep me ill via ‘other’, ‘nasty’ thoughts & /or curses over me? Or does someone in the world love me too and it’s all a battle in the realm of their spiritual space because they don’t know what to do about it, so they are fighting with themselves and dragging me into it? … I don’t even know why I typed that last line, or where it came from … but I did… or is it that because I am stuck in this space of TIRED that everything seems so much worse and my body won’t work, and my brain won’t stop? Who knows? I’d rather just give up, even if Death / God / The Universe etc want me to go on… Why did I have to be born melancholy with too many thoughts in the first place? #frustration #aggravation #annoying ! Bah Humbug to it all.

At the end of the day, and now it appears, the beginning of the day too, I am tired. I’m too tired to write poetry, write blogs, teach, cook, clean, shop, shower, dance and all the rest… Friday I was in bed at 18h27 lights out and looked at the clock again at 06h28… no-one sleeps for 12 hours when they are healthy, no-one, unless they’re a doctor who has worked a dozen shifts on the go. I am not a doctor, or a night/shift worker. Not I, nor specialists know what is wrong, and as completely irrational and illogical as it sounds, as each ‘physical door’ shuts, as each ‘earthly practice’ leads to a dead-end, Helen Fisher and Estes’ doors of Soul-discontent and ‘rejected love’ and mayhem seem to evolve as the cause… So what on earth do I do with myself if I end up with Fisher’s and Estes’ doors being the last open doors?

Estes story-therapy gives me four options from the 4 Rabbi’s Story: 1) Go psycho-mad, 2) Dismiss it as a dream, 3) Research it and teach it, or 4) Write about it in creative form, like poetry, songs, stories and the like…

A greater fear beneath it all… I can’t do anything but wait in trial and error, and if Death is leaving me here to wait in dis-ease for the rest of my lifetime, then I was one silly girl not to choose Atheism, Islam, Satanism or any of the rest :(
May you never have to spend this long in the unknowing and the stuck, because, seriously, it sucks.

Blessings to you.