Blog Crush Monday

I am hereby admitting to my one terminal downfall. I fall in love easy. And there are just so many writers that make my heart ooze joy.

So even though frequently my posts have been lamer than lame, and more noob than N00b, I am going to point you in the fabulous directions of some of my favourite Blog Crushes. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do!

Megan at Somewhat Voluble. She probably thinks I am stalking her now. Poor thing. But She is also one of those crazy girls who got married before 21 and her blog is utterly heartwarming.

ScoMan at A Name in your Recollection He recently joined Twitter, and we've become great friends. He posts once a week now a days, and even though I protest daily, he will contiue to do so. Sad Day.

Ron at Ronzworld has taken the blog world by storm. He is witty and fresh and inspiring.

Brandy at It's like I'm...mmmagic Its like reading my alterego at times. Utterly fabulous!

Kerri at Your Wishcake. Another ridiculously heartwarming blogger. *sigh* She's like the nice girl in all of us.

So there you have it. My newest blog crushes. I seriously have a reader of a gazzillion blogs and love them all. *double sigh*


Have a fabulous Monday dear ones! :)

Standing up

Personally I don't consider my self either conservative nor liberal. The closest political word for my beliefs is Right-Libertarianism. I believe in freedom. I believe in small government. I believe, like Ronald Reagan, that government is the problem not the solution.

I don't want Gay-rights limiting my opinion. If homosexuals want to have the same rights as heterosexuals- fine. Just don't make me have the same opinion as you do. Give me the freedom to disagree and protest without labelling me a bigot.

I don't want the NRA limiting my opinions either. I don't support the gun laws. I want the right to say so. I also don't support the anti-gun movement. I want the right to say they are both ridiculous.

I don't support abortion. I believe that babies have rights. But I believe that if it's legal, I want the right to say I think it's wrong, just as if it's illegal you want the right to protest about the woman's choice.

I don't like President Obama and the socialist practices he is implementing. I don't approve of President Zuma and the communist policies he is shoving down our throats.

I wish to reserve the right to disagree. And this right is so slowly dissolving under the word "tolerance" and the dogma of being narrow minded.. What is narrow-mindedness? According to Merriam- Webster narrow-mindedness is lacking in tolerance or breadth of vision. According to many, I am narrow minded because I don't agree with popular opinion.

But real narrow mindedness is placing your opinions above others. Being narrow minded is the lack of width in your vision, that you can't see that all this mumbo jumbo is truly just that. Mumbo Jumbo.

Isn't that what tolerance really is? It's not supporting gay rights. Nor is it supporting liberal ideals. True tolerance is respecting opinions, both those that support your view and those in disagreement.

Free Speech as a constitutional right is slowly disappearing. God forbid that Facebook refuses to shut down Aryan Supremacist groups! Where has the freedom to state unpopular opinions gone?

I support a new kind of tolerance. Not of the popular Obama catch phrases but of the respect of differences.

Martin Niemoller said: "In Germany, the Nazis came for the Communists, and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Communist. Then they came for the Jews, and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Jew. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a trade unionist. Then they came for the Catholics, and I didn't speak up because I was a Protestant. Then they came for me, and by that time there was no one left to speak for me."

The same can be said for our constitutional rights. First they came for Gun rights and I didn't stand up because I didn't own a gun...

The 'tolerants' are coming for Free Speech and I am standing up.

What are your thoughts?

My week. White Ninja Style

**click on image for enlargement**

A break

This might just be because I am tired. I might just be tired because Hubs feels the need to be awake at four this morning. I might be overreacting.

However, I am feeling the unrequited need to take a break from life. A break, not from work, not from marriage but from life. From thinking too much. From being sad for no apparent reason. From drifting away.

It seems so weird that I can be so emotional for no reason. I am not usually this way.

I blame it on the upcoming exams. Exams stress me out in the weirdest way. *sigh*

Sometimes it's so rad to be who I am. Othertimes... I wish I could go back to sleep.

And ace exams without a worry.

*double sigh*

Intimacy and lack thereof

I am a big abstinence supporter. I saved sex for marriage.

It was something that was very important to me.

I wrote this a while ago. It too held a place on my now dead blog.


Intimacy

Virtue, cast not away from me
Marriage let not my heart stray…
Chasteness hear my plea.
Long lashes tremble
Rock and roll ‘til the fever breaks
By and by as strength weakens
The quiet echoes
Patience and grace hold true…

I post twice in one day when I get angry...

I like having criminals in government.

No wait. I don't.

But over 67% of South Africans sure do.

What bothers me about this...


No one else seems bothered.

Why aren't South Africans as angry as I am?

15 years of ANC rule has left SA with broken promises, crime and corruption. Will Zuma spare the country from another 5 years of detriment? Doubt it.

This is bullshit and no one gives a damn. Get angry. I have a US passport. I can leave when I choose. Not everyone can. And it seems as if thinking South Africans have just rolled over. Maybe they don't care.

Maybe it's not my fight. Maybe I shouldn't care either. Maybe I should just leave.


And maybe, just maybe I will.

Me on a silver platter

So, it's no new news that I am not shy. Meek, mild and gentle are not my characteristics. No one has ever classified me as laid-back.

These are things I am not.

I am, however, arty. I blame it on my mother. I am contantly in book stores researching a new playwrite or enjoying an old one.

I found a blog today that... I could have written myself... without sarcasm and overt snarkiness.

Chic Geek appeals deeply to the finer details in everyday. I am hooked.

She posted a meme that looked like a lot of fun. And by fun I mean a chance to wow you all with my seriousness.

I am not always a snarky biotch. Unless of course you ask my neighbors...

1. Have you ever been influenced by a work of art – music or painting– and if so, how?

I have to narrow this question. It's like asking what types of foods keep you alive-

It's all of them.

Paintings.

This piece by Goya rocked my world:



Saturn, Goya 1820-1823

It haunted me. How can somehting so disasterous be so beautiful? How can I be appalled and enchanted simutaniously? I would call this painting the cornerstone of my view on art. Beauty is not limited to beautiful objects.

Music.

I saw this video a few days ago. I wouldn't say the song inspired me. I wouldn't say the woman inspired me. I wouldn't be able to actually pinpoint a certian anything that made this performance extraordinary. Maybe it is truely just her story that rocked my spirit. Take a peak and see what I mean.

Also, my personal fight song has to be Foo Fighters 'Best of You'. It was so commercialised it saddened me as it spoke to my guts like it belonged there. If you don't know it click here. But even if you do know it, watch the video and be amazing any way.

2. If you were a chocolate bar, what type would you be?

I like chocolate. If I were a chocolate bar I would be a self consuming canabal and I am so oveer that idea. Sorry but no.

3. What is your secret weapon to lure the opposite sex?

My eyes are fiery green most days. Some days they are milky brown. Either way, they helped Hubs fall for me. Them and my outrageous calves. One flash of those hotties...and...men crumble.

4. What, in your opinion, is your greatest accomplishment?

Already I have lived in two opposing cultures for several years, learning their positives and negatives. I have learned to adapt and change and learn. I have had to question my religion, my self, my future and my ideals. I have found my soulmate and started over. These are all my greatest accomplishments. I may have a few published poems. I may have begun my writing career with a bit of a bang, but those aren't what I count as accomplishments. I am a growing and mature woman who is certian. And that, to me, weighs more than any silly piece of paper.

5. How many friends do you have on your Facebook account?

273. I recently had a friend purge to only those I actually keep in contact with.


See? Wasn't that glorious? If you are keen, send me the answers to those questions either on your blog, in a comment, or even in email.

xxoo

A break from the sugary sweetness

I love treats. Obviously.

However, what good is sweetness without the sour? If we did not know hate, would we know love? Without an enemy would we value friendship?

Of course not.

I have been focussing on the treats in my life. All while a brief email from someone I knew in the past shook me back into reality.

I may be in love with the greatest man on the planet. He might treat me like a princess, but if I don't remember the boys who didn't treat me like he does, I'll never really appreciate him. I'd grow complacent in his love.

The email was from one of those who didn't see my beauty the same way Hubs does. He didn't see my value. He didn't realise my potential.

I may have cared about him long ago, but now? no thank you.

I choose Hubs everyday anyday over you and your kind Mr. ukboy.

Definitive moments

I have had several moments in my life that I place in my definitive category. Some I will never find words to express. Some are so deeply entwined in my core that to remove them, analyze them, and reveal them would strip them of their power.

But some of them only have power when stripped open. Some moments yearn to be shared. These have no shame. Like the beggar at the traffic light, they cry out to me. Sobs of fear, regret and desperation are met only by my own heartache and incompetence.

I had another dream about her. Her name was Sali and I first wrote about her here. Lately, she has been invading my subconscious, crying out to be shared.

I met her July of 2008 in a small village in Mozambique called Panhame. Her lifestyle is what you see on National Geographic with little comfort and even less guarantee of tomorrow.

Yet, she aroused no pity from me.

Sympathy, sure. "Man, somebody's gotta do something" sure. Pity? No.

This does not mean that I am immune to the sadness of seeing impoverished people. I felt no pity because she felt no pity.

This was her life. She is 4 or 5 years old and herded her family's goats. She helped her mother with the only meal of the day. She would probably never get an education or learn where babies come from before she was married. This was her life and, at her age, she seemed to accept her life in all its entirety.

I am no photographer but here she is:



And these are my words:

To the girl who aided my heart recovery:

Sali

The great expanse of dust packed still
By bare feet trampling
The shadows pool beneath Marula tree
And dusty rocks, undisturbed, watch

Sali toddle across the plain
Heavy laden, haunting eyes
And the beads and bracelets clanking

And she tumbles
Embracing shrouds
The dust- scarlet and steaming

Tear neglected she leapt
To chase the goat
And fade into the blackness.

The New Year has left me Baffled.

This morning family from Dubai arrived for part 2 of their visit. Our home is bustling with new year fever- resolutions that already have been broken and breakfast dishes that need to be washed.

Daily life has continued despite the changing of the calender, as it always does.

I make resolutions differently than most people. I make goals. I use today to define how I wish to live my life this new year. I use it as guidelines. Although I fail to succeed in the 'resolution' completely, every year I grow further into the person I desire myself to be.

This year I will be doing the same thing.

I have a stronger desire to grow this year than last. 2007 and 2008 were years of waiting, of growing in the big P (patience) 2009 is a year of new marriages, new families, new homes, new cities, new jobs, new opportunities. This year will define my character and my virtue.

I have stepped out of most of my 'humanitarian' work (I use that word loosely, as I dislike the connotations of humanitarian workers) in an effort to concentrate on my education (I was too stressed last year with the youth projects and Mozambique outreaches) and my marriage.

All these new things demand my attention and I have to focus on these before I can focus on others.

Proverbs 31 is the guidelines I want to work towards.

An excellent wife, who can find? For her worth is far above jewels. The heart of her husband trusts in her, and he will have no lack of gain. She does him good and not evil all the days of her life. She looks for wool and flax and works with her hands in delight. She is like merchant ships; She brings her food from afar. She rises also while it is still night and gives food to her household and portions to her maidens.
She considers a field and buys it; from her earnings she plants a vineyard. She girds herself with strength and makes her arms strong. She senses that her gain is good
Her lamp does not go out at night. She stretches out her hands to the distaff,And her hands grasp the spindle. She extends her hand to the poor, and she stretches out her hands to the needy. She is not afraid of the snow for her household, For all her household are clothed with scarlet. She makes coverings for herself; her clothing is fine linen and purple. Her husband is known in the gates, When he sits among the elders of the land. She makes linen garments and sells them, And supplies belts to the tradesmen. Strength and dignity are her clothing, And she smiles at the future.
She opens her mouth in wisdom, And the teaching of kindness is on her tongue. She looks well to the ways of her household, And does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children rise up and bless her; Her husband also, and he praises her, saying:
"Many daughters have done nobly,
But you excel them all."
Charm is deceitful and beauty is vain, But a woman who fears the LORD, she shall be praised. Give her the product of her hands, And let her works praise her in the gates.

These words reflect the type of woman I want to become: Rare, Precious, Trustworthy, Kind, Diligent, Joyful, Disciplined, Giving, Prudent, Energetic, Elegant, Helpful, Industrious, Poised, Wise, Praiseworthy, Distinguished, God- Fearing, and eventually Honoured.

Tall order? Yes. Not through me but through Christ.

The Naked Truth

Prompted by Hillbilly's contest I have been thinking a lot about my expression of truth.

It really baffled me. How do I express truth? When has truth been best expressed to me? What is truth? How do I know that it is true? And worst of all how the heck am I going to communicate this to a gaggle of strangers?

And so I thought. A lot. And I worked out clearly what I know truth is NOT.

I really don't buy into relativism. The thought that truth is transient doesn't fit well with me. I am transient. I am fleeting. My mortality encourages my search for truth that is steadfast, unwavering, and strong.

My closest experience to Truth was when I was taking a picnic in the Pilansburg Mountains. I wandered off by myself exploring and found a spot on a gigantic rock overlooking a scene much like this one.

I looked out. The wind picked up and threatened to throw me over. The jutting dead trees littering the ground deep below me offered little comfort. For a brief moment,vertigo gripped me fiercely.

I panicked.

I was going to fall.

In my panic I looked to my feet. They were firmly planted. The rock had been my support and I was, in fact, in no danger. I sat there for a while because, despite being on a cliff overlooking a kilometer plummet, I was completely secure. I was not going to fall.

Truth to me has inherent religious connotations. I have no shame in saying I put my trust and my hope in Jesus Christ. This is rock solid. This is stable. This has found me completely secure in my situation. Much like how I felt on that rock in the Pilansburg, despite the immediate danger I am facing, I am safe. The truth is that when the wind dies down and the sun beats upon my face once again, my feet will remain firmly planted in truth and I will not fall.

The Pursuit of the Grown Up Within Me

I live in-between worlds at the moment. I am not yet married, but no longer single. I am an adult back living with my parents. I am no longer a student, but don’t really have a steady job yet. I kind of have a position here and there but still drift in almost unemployment. I am almost registered at the distance learning institution but not quite. I still have to find the funds for the first instalment of payment. I am kind of this and kind of that but not definitively in anything.

I am not normally this girl. I usually have a plan A, a plan B and if all else fails, a miserable plan C. I bounce between plan A, B and C but never ever drift between. So this is new and strange to me. I like categorising myself. Giving words to myself makes me feel more understood by myself and even more place-able in the world.

Most of my dissatisfaction stems from my own confusion regarding my studies. I love studying. However I love the Fi more. And so I have to compromise. He is also compromising in his own elements for me and I do not feel at all cheated by this concept. Instead of returning to a University to attend formal lectures, I have opted to study via correspondence. Since the Fi is changing jobs to a company in the East Rand (40 minutes without traffic from Pretoria) I just cannot envision myself having the patience to drive everyday to Pretoria. Maybe for a few weeks but since I want my Masters in English; I cannot promise doing it for a few years. I am just not that motivated. I currently battle to walk the 15 minutes to my lectures. See? Would not happen.

Other motivations are perhaps more personal and revolve around my desire to not tax my marriage from the start, personal convictions about the importance of an education, and that burning edge to get a head start in the writing business are all feeding my hurry to get enrolled.

Not everyone is seeing it this way. The disapproval is based on many of my seemingly bad choices. I am again reduced to that little girl who cannot remember how to tie her shoelace. Ugh! This shouldn’t affect me. I’m too... me to need the green light from others. But I have to be honest here. I need this green light. I need that acceptance.

But I am not going to get it.

I guess this is how one grows up. They make decisions despite their approval rating and take responsibility regardless if it flounders or flourishes. Maybe they drift in-between until they decide and move forward.

So here I am deciding. Moving.

Hoping this doesn’t bite me in the ass.

To Write Love on Her Arm

Yesterday I wrote love on my arm.

It is a campaign to promote awareness about Self-Injury worldwide. Thousands of people worldwide wrote on their arms in red ink to raise awareness about SI.


This campaign is close to my heart because the cutters I know are close to my heart. No judgements no stigmatisms.

They need understanding. They need hope. They need Love.
See more at towriteloveonherarm.org

People are cutting more than just bread.

There are a few topics in life that I feel very strongly about. Some of these topics are controversial issues that many people feel very strongly about. Religion, abortion, free speech, and purity before marriage are all issues that many people feel very strongly about and yes, I feel very strongly about all those issues. However, today another issue is on my mind.

I have noticed a very concerning spread of a certain poor choice among young people. It was more secretive when I was in school- I knew only a few who struggled with it- however now, maybe because I am older and (uh wiser I guess) I know many more kids who are cutting or burning themselves as a form of emotional release. This issue is close to my heart and not many are aware of the severity of this new trend in society.

Maybe not everyone will find this post as their cup of tea. It is difficult to put a humourous spin on something that I take so seriously. It is important to me to spread awareness of this because the kids I know who injure themselves are not the kids you would expect. I am not saying strip the youth down and search for strange marks on their bodies. I am not asking you to ask 'the tough questions'. Instead, I ask for you to be aware.

Self injury is not a form a suicide. It is not an attention seeking mission most of the time either. According to Wikipedia, "Self-injury (SI) or self-harm (SH) is deliberate injury inflicted by a person upon their own body without suicidal intent. Some scholars use more technical definitions related to specific aspects of this behaviour. These acts may be aimed at relieving otherwise unbearable emotions, sensations of unreality and numbness. The illness is listed in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-IV-TR) as a symptom of borderline personality disorder and depressive disorders. It is sometimes associated with mental illness, a history of trauma and abuse including emotional abuse, sexual abuse, eating disorders, or mental traits such as low self-esteem or perfectionism, but a statistical analysis is difficult, as many self-injurers conceal their injuries." (The links are to the actual Wikipedia site)

The Pain We Hide is a website created by a self diagnosed 'cutter'. His information may be biased or just plain out wrong. However, they have the most complete compilaation of statistics that I have found. Most web pages are unsure of the actual stats and only post a few. This list seems like a compilation of stats from various other sites that I have seen including Helpline.net and other reputable sites. Unfortunately because it is a personal site without any ethical grounding in plagiarism they do not say where they obtained their statistics. Anyway, they reckon that in the UK,

• 43% know someone who has self-harmed.
• 41% of people believe self-injury is selfish and 55% of people believe it's stupid.
• Approximately 24,000 teenagers were admitted to A&E for self-injury in England and Wales in 1998.
• 1 in 130 people - 446 000 or nearly half a million people self-injure across Britain.
• 142 000 hospital admissions are result of self-injury across England and Wales every year

In the world,

• An estimated 2 million Americans admit to purposely cutting or burning themselves.
• The average self-injurer begins in her early-mid teens and continues with increasing severity into her late twenties.
• More than half of self-injurers are victims of abuse or neglected/emotionally abusive childhoods.

The 19 year old who established this site compiled a list of things tendencies that he has or that he has noticed in his friend who cut. They are very interesting. He lists them as:

"The general picture of people who self-injure appears to be people who:

• are overly sensitive to rejection
• are chronically angry, especially at themselves
• strongly dislike themselves
• tend to suppress their anger
• have high levels of aggressive emotions
• tend to act according to their moods
• tend not to plan for the future
• are depressed and suicidal/self destructive
• tend towards irritability
• tend to be avoidant
• do not think they have enough control
• do not think they can cope

Self-injury can occur at any age, and in any sex, race, culture or status. But the most common occurrences are in females aged between 15 and 19. Males can suffer too but the most common age in males is between 20 and 24 years of age. There is no clear national/international statistics about self-injury as most keep it hidden but estimated numbers have been composed."

The Helpline said something I think has to go into the discussion of SI (self injury).

Self-injury is little understood by most people. The idea of deliberately hurting yourself is seemingly incomprehensible. For most of us, cutting or burning our skin would be incredibly painful and difficult to carry out. For cutters, it is not a strange thing to do. In fact, many cutters that I have spoken to, despite being ashamed, did not think it was a volatile or destructive way to handle their situation. Perhaps, some do realise. I honestly do not know. The following is extracted from helpline.

"The alteration or destruction of body tissue may be regarded on its surface (both literally and figuratively) as a morbid behavior on the one hand, and as a self-help behavior on the other (Favazza and Conterio 1988). We all have methods of coping with stress, whether it is emotional, physical or psychological. Coping is a behavior, which an individual utilizes to get through stressful, and difficult times as best they can. And sometimes the methods we use are extreme, perhaps excessive in comparison to the original stress. Self-injury is an example of an extreme method, but a method that, nonetheless, serves its purpose. Mentally ill self-injurers have an increased risk of suicide, although self-injury itself in not a failed attempt at suicide. It is frequently mistaken for a suicidal gesture, but there is a clear distinction between repetitive self- injury and suicide attempts. Self-injury is intended not to kill, but rather to relieve unbearable emotional pain and many survivors regard it, paradoxically, as a form of self-preservation (Herman 1992). The reasoning behind self-injury is diverse and by no means the same for all self- injurers. Self-injurers may give a single reason for their behavior, but, more commonly, their reasons are multiple and sometimes, on the surface, seemingly conflicting. Some of the more common purposes that self-injury serves are explored below.

R RRelief from overwhelming emotions is one of the reasons given most often for self-injury. The immense internal psychic pressure felt from overwhelming emotions can seem uncontrollable, frightening, and dangerous. People who self-injure have often not learned to identify, express, or release their emotions. Most have never developed the ability to feel and express emotions as others do. They may not have been allowed to show or release their true emotions. Yet their feelings still exist, whether they show them or not. They may have adopted self-injury as a strategy for getting relief from these intense feelings (Alderman 1997). The relief gained from these emotions is rapid, but temporary. The effectiveness of self-injury, at the moment, to provide relief and release is one of the reasons why self-injurers find it so difficult to stop.

PHPPhysical expression of emotional pain is one way for the self-injurer to provide evidence/confirmation of their psychological suffering. Self-injurers speak of their wounds and their scars as being a way to see the pain they feel inside. That by causing these injuries they are bringing their pain out to be seen and perhaps healed. Often, individuals who engage in self-injury tend to minimize or doubt their own internal experiences. Physically expressing the emotional pain allows them to have concrete evidence of intangible, amorphous, or indefinable emotions (Alderman 1997). Self-injury speaks loudly of the pain the individual feels long before they have the words to express it.

U UUnreality, numbness and dissociation are experienced by many self-injurers. Dissociation is something that most of us have experienced, through such breaks in consciousness as daydreaming or driving past your exit from the motorway. Even though everyone dissociates to some degree at times, for some it is a defense mechanism, protecting them in the face of intolerable emotional pain. After a time, this too becomes intolerable, and self-injury may become a means for reducing, preventing, or ending a disturbing dissociative state. At times, the emotionally numb state may extend to physical anesthesia, so that severe injuries may be inflicted with a minimum of pain (Moskovitz 1996). Although we all dissociate, most of us do not fear that we will physically and/or psychologically disintegrate. What makes it different for self- injurers is that they feel they are shattering - falling apart. One woman uses the analogy of a magician taking a dollar and tearing it into many pieces. He waves his wand, mumbles some words and 'presto' the dollar is whole again. She says she feels like that dollar, ripped up into may pieces, she cuts and 'presto' she feels whole again.

SE SSelf Punishment and Self Hate may well be the simplest and most easily understood explanation of self-injury. Histories of childhood abuse (physical, sexual, and/or emotional) are represented in a high proportion of individuals who self-injure. Common with childhood abuse is the child erroneously blaming themselves for their abuse. Many children believe that they deserved everything they got, they somehow asked for it, and that they are innately bad. These lessons from childhood often remain and influence their treatment of themselves. They are unduly critical of themselves, leading to feelings of shame and blame, which then leads to self-punishment for their perceived transgression. Many self-injurers have been taught that many thoughts, feelings, and emotions that we take for granted, such as feeling angry and having needs are bad and deserve punishment. When these are aroused in them their self-hate is emphasized and they feel they have to pay. Many describe the letting of their blood, the essence of their life force, as getting rid of some of the badness.

SE SSelf Nurturing may seem to be in conflict with the act of intentionally hurting oneself, but self-injury has a self-nurturing component for some individuals through the self-care they are able to give to themselves afterwards, and through the making on internal wounds external there is also an attempt to heal oneself. Feeling that they are alone and that no one cares is common with self-injurers. A gain from their injuries is the care they give to themselves. One self-injurer described it as 'an excuse to take care of and be gentle with myself'. Self-mutilation may also be therapeutic because of the symbolism associated with the formation of scar tissue; scar tissue indicates that healing has occurred. Thus, with a few strokes of a razor the self-cutter may unleash a symbolic process in which the sickness within is removed and the stage is set for healing as evidenced by a scar. The cutter, in effect, performs a primitive sort of self-surgery, complete with tangible evidence of healing (Favazza 1996)."

Th TThe Helpline site has a lot of great information as to how to deal with people who cut. It is difficult as an outsider to relate to things we don't understand. My hope in this post is that you as a reader would better understand this. I am greatly concerned at the prevalence in the South African youth culture. In some circles, due to the 'emo' trend, it is actually a requirement. If we as the role models of these kids don't show them better, more constructive ways to deal with life then the statistics will only climb.

Tk TThank you for reading this post and joining me in the fight for our youth. If this is a topic that interests you as it does me another organisation to look at is To Write Love on Her Arms. It is a organisation focussed on awareness of SI, depression and other such things with a Biblical perspective. The link to investigate is To Write Love on Her Arms.

Dear Anon

Dear Anon,

It is too bad you didn't place more information about yourself in the post. I would love to find out where you live, what you do and what makes you tick.

I don't have a problem defending my views. In fact, I want to thank you for calling me on not defending my statements in Tia's blog.

I will not debate theoretical jargon regarding the pharmaceutical companies. In my experience this does not assist the issue in anyway. Theory is not practicality.

I have lived in South Africa since 2004. I have seen things that most Americans only see on the television. I know more people who have died from AIDS related disease than people who have not. This is an excerpt from Avert - an international AIDS charity. On their page they say,

"It is difficult to overstate the suffering that HIV has caused in South Africa. With statistics showing that almost one in five adults are infected, HIV is widespread in a sense that can be difficult to imagine for those living in less-affected countries. For each person living with HIV, in South Africa and elsewhere, not only does it impact on their lives, but also those of their families, friends and wider communities.

With anti retroviral drug treatment, HIV-positive people can maintain their health and often lead relatively normal lives. Sadly, few people in South Africa have access to this treatment. This means that AIDS deaths are alarmingly common throughout the country. It is thought that almost half of all deaths in South Africa, and a staggering 71% of deaths among those aged between 15 and 49, are caused by AIDS. So many people are dying from AIDS that in some parts of the country, cemeteries are running out of space for the dead.A recent survey found that South Africans spent more time at funerals than they did having their hair cut, shopping or having barbecues. It also found that more than twice as many people had been to a funeral in the past month than had been to a wedding.

As well as the death and suffering that HIV has caused on an individual and community level, South Africa’s AIDS epidemic has also had a substantial impact on the country’s overall social and economic progress:

• Average life expectancy in South Africa is now 54 years – without AIDS, it is estimated that it would be 64. Over half of 15 year olds are not expected to reach the age of 60.⁵
• Between 1990 and 2003 – a period during which HIV prevalence in South Africa increased dramatically – the country fell by 35 places in the Human Development Index, a global directory that ranks countries by how developed they are.
• Hospitals are struggling to cope with the number of HIV-related patients that they have to care for. In 2006 a leading researcher estimated that HIV-positive patients would soon account for 60-70% of medical expenditure in South African hospitals.
• Schools have fewer teachers because of the AIDS epidemic. In 2006 it was estimated that 21% of teachers in South Africa were living with HIV.^"

South Africa is country with a strong economy, 'first-world' infrastructure and is only one of 61 territories in Africa. I know that this is not the only country in Africa struggling with this pandemic. I have been to rural villages in Mozambique and informal settlements in Swaziland. The impact of HIV/AIDS in these countries are heartbreaking to the same degree.

Yes, I realise that there are a plethora of reasons why the AIDS rate is so outrageously high. Poverty, Government inaction and ignorance/social stigma of AIDS victims all contribute to the frightening statistics. However, I cannot ignore that those with the power to help this situation do not assist with the power they are capable of. Those who help with all the fervour they contain just cannot do enough. If the pharmaceutical industry made less profit on AZT cocktails and other powerful industries also did their bit, Africa will not be in the same deadly situation. I realise they try, but their attempts are greatly undermined by their lust for profit and success.

Focussing

It scares me sometimes to go inside my brain and see what I've left unattended. I see some emotional monsters ten feet tall. All those strange emotions that many would see a therapist for while I bash around my house. I am so tired of growing pains. I am so tired of my situation right now. I am so sickeningly happy- then just so sick and tired. But focused, I shall stay. On moving forward. On not looking back. And on all those empty spaces in my mind where certain monsters have left vacancies.

Seeking Truth

Step away. Keep your distance I can’t be what you want me to be. Right now there are things inside I don’t want you to see. So take your personal spotlight, shine it on someone else for awhile I can’t force a happy face and make sure it makes you smile. I can’t deny what I see or what I feel or what’s in front of me. So take your world of precious moments of make-believe that never made me believe in anything and left me with nothing to hold onto. Your quick fix and magic tricks can only disguised what I was going through. Now I am thinking it was, when it wasn’t. And now I am trying to rationalise what doesn’t come together and somehow doesn’t make sense. But, how can I convince them if I’m not even convinced? Everyone’s thinking it but no one is saying it, everyone’s saying it but no one is feeling it. Everyone’s feeling it but nobody’s seeing it so tell me how am I supposed to know what’s real?

~John Rueben

My sister is constantly looking for her shoes. No matter where she puts them, they somehow get separated by the shoe-stealing-monster that lives in our house. She’s not the only one either—my mom is forever searching for her keys. Even when put away, these keys grow legs and party around the house-never to be found again. It’s ridiculous but true. Everyone is always searching for something. Me, I searched for truth. And I found it when I found Jesus.

When you listen to the radio, you hear people lamenting over lost love and forgotten friends. The majority of the songs on the radio are dark, depressing and mournful. Dudes are rocking out singing words like these ones, “How am I supposed to know what’s real?” The emptiness that echo in the lyrics to that song resonate so deeply. My generation is searching for real truth.

Personal truth, sexual truth, spiritual truth- these are the topics you find inside the glossy magazines targeted at the 20-somethings. "How to be happy and fufilled" "how to find your own personal truth." We are told to look inside ourselves or to find fufilment through meditation. Some turn to their own personal power through Wicca, Buddism or Kabala and others to the media-fed new-aged mish mash of the three and yet they all have turned up empty. Obviously, 'Personal Power' is not an authentic truth- if it were they would not still be aching for authenticity.

I have a good friend who loves song lyrics. She searches them for bits to use in daily conversation and to justify her complex and confused spirit. One band said it best, "It's the wrongs that make the words come to life." Its the evils her personal life that make their lyrics authentic. But The Truth isn’t found in the lyrics of Metallica. Or Fall Out Boy.

Jesus said “I am the way, the truth and the life.” Jesus IS the truth. The Truth was nailed to the cross as payment for your sins—for my sins. The Truth defeated death and lives. When you find Jesus, you find the Truth. Its off your shoulders, no more searching, no more looking. Its right there. Its a solid truth- its not going to change with the newest passing fad.

This A.W. Tozer was quoted, “Without the way there is no going. Without the truth there is no knowing. Without the life there is no living.” Meaning without Jesus you have nothing worth anything. So seek the Truth. Seek Life. Seek Jesus- and find fufillment.