(Sharing my Facebook post updates)
22 July: The interesting thing for me again, is that before I'd finished yesterday's blog post (IS THIS MY LAST BLOG POST?  You get to decide…), I developed a sharp pain on the point of my right elbow and couldn't rest it on the chair arm... it's still sore, but not as bad as yesterday and my knee is niggling again. Weird how unloading and touching on deep emotional stuff triggers psychosomatic aches and pains so quickly. I find it so interesting.
 
My middle son visited me on his way home from church today and that was such a joy and a blessing as I hadn’t seen him in a while.  He’s been very busy with a house move, painting and fixing up the new house as well as frequent business trips.
 
23 July: Yesterday after two nights of less than 6 hours sleep, I was exhausted beyond measure, but at the same time so restless and once again, I got that insecurity-obsessive thing where I needed to cook for the whole nation! Anything and everything I could find to cook I cooked to try and ensure we wouldn't starve... Made a mountain of cupcakes using the returns-packs my sister-in law gave me, and meals ready in the fridge for two days with some over for freezing... washed dishes all day and could not rest until it was all done and I finally collapsed with nothing left. Took 1/4 sleeping pill and slept like a log... a good 8 hours again!
 
24 July:
Happy 39th Birthday to my first-born son… I love him so much!  I didn’t get to see him for his birthday, but I’m just glad I got to chat with him over the phone.
 
Woken after 5 1/2 hours sleep last night with our new bush-mechanic neighbour revving one of his cars much better at 3am!!! He buys, mends and sells cars at home to make money! I could NOT believe it… I am usually very patient with neighbours, but this one is pushing all the wrong buttons! I want to strangle him right now, because I couldn’t sleep much at all after that! When he revs the cars in the carport, the fumes come billowing into our garage (new hobby room) through the opening at the top of our roll-up garage door and we keep our clean washing in the garage, and other stuff, so it makes everything smell of fumes! I remember his mother saying the day that they arrived, that they were evicted from their last place… I wondered why… well, I’m not wondering anymore!  We share a carport and twice now, that I have heard, he has also reversed so hard into his CLOSED gate (attached to the same frame as our gate), that it’s rattled my whole house and the wall on my side of the car-port is coming apart with a crack as a result! This morning we were unable to re-lock our gate once my youngest son opened it to go out when his transport to work arrived, because their broken gate, off of its rails, was in the way! Also meaning that our car is not protected at night, because their gate is not securely locked! I’m going to have to report him, because I don’t want to be the one paying for that broken wall, etc. when the time comes. I feel most uncomfortable with a neighbour I can’t trust completely being so close. With our car parked right next to the one's he brings home in the same shared car port. my also couldn't sleep much after that noisy revving at 3am!
 
Later that day
GOOD NEWS: Our financial struggle is over this month... a most generous payment (blessing) for a Logotherapy dream interpretation from a very special friend (my miracle)... an interpretation which I haven't even done yet and I haven't even received it yet to work on... talk about pressure... EEEK!  But I'm so grateful you have no idea. That's taken a huge burden off of our shoulders for the rest of this month and might even go a long way towards having the car's timing sorted out next month. I also need to get underclothes, shorts and socks for my son, as well as at least one more work shirt... not to mention a vacuum cleaner, lawn mower, etc. But one thing at a time... we are truly very blessed and so grateful.
 
26 July:  My daughter in law’s birthday today… (recently divorced from my first son and now she is in hospital again with emotional struggles).  My son has been staying with her mother while she is away, to help take care of their children. 
 
27 July: The neighbor on the other side of our noisy new neighbour called me to tell me that on the night of the revving, she was also woken up, but by a huge bang before the revving happened… so I gather that was a third time that we know of, that he’s driven into the carport gate and knocked it off its railing!  I’m glad to know we’re not the only neighbours disturbed by this man’s inconsiderate and rude behavior.  I just feel sorry for his old parents though, who must be so embarrassed by him and need to move every time he creates havoc.  God bless them ♥
 
A MOST WONDERFUL DAY!
TOTALLY BLESSED: We've had a big donation from my dear far-away sister and brother in law, that will cover for sure, a new vacuum... it might even cover something else that we need... i.e. car timing to be sorted out, or a small mower or push mower, or a lock for our new hobby room (outside leading) door which we cannot lock yet because that came broken, so our house is still not secure... we also need to fix the inside door of the hobby room, because the door handle hole is offset and makes it very hard to move the handle or turn the key... it's already broken once and needed to be replaced. And the drip in the kitchen still needs to be fixed again... still dripping. And then there's the bathroom conversion I'd love to have done... bath to a shower... but that will need to wait for better days. Some more brick work for the back yard also needs to be done to complete our veggie patch. Not to mention my youngest son urgently needs underpants, socks and at least one more work shirt... so... my needs can wait for now... these other things are so much more important.
 
I'm very grateful that at least some of it can be done between the last two generous donations... Heaven sure is watching over us... ♥♥♥
 
My son also blessed me with some petrol money for collecting the children from the school today, because he was going to be too late from the airport to pick them up on time.  I am grateful for all the help we have received this month… we are so blessed.
 
I'm off to go post a student’s study pack at the Post Office... I hope the student receives it... we've had such struggles with the PO... I can't trust them anymore, but it was the student’s choice.
 
SIRENS AND AN UNEXPECTED, COMFORTING HUG
So, off I went to the post office… (it takes courage for me to leave my house, but my sense of responsibility towards the students is huge and I feel it’s so important to get their study packs off to them as quickly as possible, so that’s like a TOP priority over my own fears.) 
 
I’m the only person at the post office not too far from my house and the lady processes the study pack quickly.  As I’m about to leave, there is suddenly a huge noise of sirens and police cars rushing past outside… I froze at the door for a few seconds… panic attack coming on… aware that the lady who served me can see me, so I need to keep it together…
 
(For as long as I can remember, the sound of sirens too close by, creates panic in me.  In therapy we attributed this to the fact that my mother was always going into fitting attacks, and from a very young age, I’d be the one needing to call for help for her… then the ambulances and whatever other emergency services would arrive and take her away.  I’m not sure if we went with them in the ambulance or another vehicle, because we were very small, or if we were left with neighbours, but I do think that on some occasions, we were put into a stranger’s vehicle in the midst of the horror of seeing our mother in such a state being taken away from us, and we were taken with to wherever, because we were too small to be left at home alone… I mostly experience panic attacks when a police car rushes past me when I’m driving.  My chest gets really tight, my pulse rate and breathing increases and I start to cry).
 
Trying to avoid panicking in front of the lady in the Post Office, I decided to leave… I wanted to go to the store next door, to buy some stock cubes… even though we had received enough money now to get through the month, I was cooking for the nation again yesterday and again today!!!  (Still not over the feelings of insecurity from a month of money shortage).  Two large pots of food simmering on the stove and the electric frying pan also going on the counter!  Crazy! 
 
Anyway, so I leave the Post Office… feeling detached… police cars with their sirens screaming, still rushing past one after the other… I walk towards the store next door… my son and family used to work there.  David, a massive security guard is standing outside the door… people have massed by the door to watch the police cars passing… David is a familiar face… a place of safety… I find myself walking straight towards him and stop right next to him… and to my absolute surprise, in an instant… as if he just KNEW… he put his big old arm around me and pulled me close to him in a single armed hug.  In that moment in time, when I was on the edge of a full-blown panic attack, that hug came as a blessing beyond blessings.  I still wonder how he came to do that… did the fear show on my face?  I don’t know… I cannot remember much of anything between the Post Office and standing next to him… He’s very tall… a big man… I looked up at him and asked him what’s happening, and he responded, that he thinks it’s maybe a police funeral procession. 
 
When it was all over, I asked him what he’d like (we often come out with sweets for him, because we know he loves those), and he said he’d like a loaf of bread to take home with him later… so he walked with me into the shop, which still helped me to feel safe… chose his bread and came with me to the till.  Once paid for he took it, thanked me and went off back to his duties. 
 
As I was driving home and came to the crossroad where the police had rushed past just moments before, I allowed myself to remember and the panic instantly rose and tears flowed… so I had to remind myself that it was not necessary, I was safe and no harm was done… I was able to pull myself together before I arrived home and got over it quick enough. 
 
I will never forget David’s beautiful protective hug in a moment of desperate need.  What a special man he is!  Another BFG (Big Friendly Giant) like my youngest son.
 
The beautiful eclipse
To finish off this beautiful day, we were treated to an eclipse of the moon around 21h30… I’m sure it was the first time I can remember ever seeing a red moon… it was absolutely beautiful.  I was happy to see a community member from our area had posted photos taken of it that looked exactly as I remembered seeing it the night before.  He kindly agreed for me to share those photos by Roelof de Bruyn here on my blog which I am thankful for. 
 
The eclipse was known as the longest eclipse of the century and I was glad that my son and I didn’t miss it.  The only problem… I had a bad tummy ache in the afternoon/evening (Could that have been as a result of the panic earlier in the day? This possibility only just occurred to me… because, I just remembered, that’s how it used to be in my past when I had bad panic attacks) so, we ended up going to sleep too late and both ended up having very little sleep.

​Thank you for sharing with me.
 
~ Panayiota

I am wondering why the vast majority of my readers never commented on my last blog post, when it was surely very clear that I really needed to hear from you all… so, yes… it bothers me and creates an element of distrust for me.  I ask myself… “Why are you reading my blog posts then?  Why are you there?  Who can I trust out there in the world with what is so deep in my heart that I have chosen to share So openly with you all up till now?

Without ever advertising my blog yet, because I can’t afford the amount needed: (Readers page views per week… last week: 23 July 18: 1105 page views and today:  941 page views… my last blog post “IS THIS MY LAST BLOG POST?  You get to decide…” was posted on 21st July).   

Below, is an e-mail from a Logotherapist in Guatemala who has convinced me that I do need to continue with my blog, because she is a virtual stranger to me and it seems that my sharing is making a difference for her in her work with young girls who have been abused.
Below the e-mail are some more cherished comments that were posted on the Patty’s Keys Facebook page.  I am so grateful for all who have taken the time to bring me the needed reassurance to just keep going with this heart-work of mine.

I would still like to hear from more strangers though… not just my friends and family… I need to know if my shares are serving a real purpose and helping others.  Either those suffering from the effects of child abuse… or helping those who are doing the abusing to STOP… or, helping people who have not been abused to understand the abused better and step in and take action to stop it and to help the victims of abuse… most especially the innocence and mental integrity of our children.  I'd also like to know if my shares are helping professionals to understand their clients better, etc.
 
EMAIL
Dear Pan...  please don’t stop to write for those who are reading your messages as me!
I’m reading all posts from Guatemala!
You are very important for me, for my work and for many people.. please don’t stop!!
Love you very much
RM (Logotherapist)
 
ON MY PATTY’S KEYS FACEBOOK PAGE
BN: (colleague) My friend, what stuck out for me was this quote “Anyway… I must just keep moving forward… be it in slow-motion or what… the work must go on, regardless of this great desire to run from it forever… escape reality and responsibility…” Giving up on your dream would be a tragedy beyond words. If needs be, take it in slow motion: write when you want to, when you want to, about whatever you want to, taking all the time you need. But don’t run away from this, your contribution means too much to be abandoned.  Sending lots of love!
Patty's Keys:  Thanks so much my dear friend... it means the world to me that you take the time to read what I share on my blog. I would love for you to comment there so that if there is going to be support like this, that people can see that there are other people who appreciate my sharing there and support it. I fear that there are so many people judging me because of the openness and honesty of my blog shares that I could do with the support there right now. You can even use a pseudonym to write there. I just need to know for sure... am I there making a fool of myself, or is my sharing making a difference for good. So, I thank you with all my heart for your comment on it all here and I am so grateful for you and your ongoing tremendous understanding support. Love you lots.
BN:  Of course my friend, I will do that. There is never foolishness in being open, only courage. It takes courage to express what millions of us are going through but don’t have the words or ability to express. It is a gift that you give to us which would leave us poorer if you took it away. Lots of love!!
Patty's Keys:  It's so hard to believe and yet such a gift to have your words for my heart. I'm truly grateful. Thanks so much for your love today and always and mine to you in return ♥♥♥
 
LP: (colleague) Your blog, while a possible healing avenue for you, also heals others by way of knowing they are not alone with their suffering and creates a virtual network of healing - it is never nice to hear that people are going through tough times: I hope it is not your last post 🕊
Patty's Keys:  Bless you dear L, and thanks a million for your lovely response which I appreciate so very much. Have a good evening and sweet dreams to you and yours with lots of love ♥♥♥
 
M MN E: (Facebook friend) I read the post and so much of it resounds with me. I find your posts soooo helpful. You often give voice to my feeling without even knowing that you are. Often your posts put into words, thoughts and feelings that I cannot express. You also share a lot of insight psychologically...this is so helpful to me. I too have felt the need to distance my self (in person) from a variety of people and just rest and find peace and calm again. It has really helped. Sabbaticals are so good for healing. Those that love you will understand. I really hope you keep writing your posts. I tried to comment but for some reason I couldn't. Will try again later. Hugs and love ♥
Patty's Keys:  Your response along with the others here have made me feel a lot stronger today and I am truly grateful to you and the others who have responded. Thanks so much dear M... I cherish my friendships here and your support so much. Goodnight and take care. Love you too <3
Patty's Keys:  Yes... please do try and post on the blog post... that would be great if you can get it to work. Maybe it will work tomorrow... HUGS ♥
 
DRC: (colleague) Never stop my Pana.. There is so much strength in your vulnerability. You are the person I know would never judge me for anything I would share with you. Not many people have the courage to be as authentic as you are. You inspire me.
Patty's Keys: Thank you my dearest D, your message is very strengthening to me... thank you for your sustaining love and friendship always and for never giving up on me no matter what. I'm very grateful for you in my life ♥ and I love you very much ♥
 
VB VM: (Facebook friend) I have just read your latest blog, my heart aches for you. I don't understand how people can hurt or judge you, you are one of the nicest people I know. And you're not being judged by God for not paying your tithes. In the Catholic church our priest always said those who can afford to donate, can do so. Those who can't will never be rejected or judged. Our one priest told me personally that our homes and families must come first when it comes to available money. God loves you and so do we! And I'm sure your blog helps many people - and those who judge don't deserve to be there.
Patty's Keys:  Thank you dearest V... so much for your kind and encouraging words and love. I am so grateful for your friendship over all these years and do hope that one day I get to meet you and all my precious Facebook friends who have stood by me for so long and journeyed with me and put up with my sometimes long, sometimes babbling roller-coaster of posts. You will always be such a treasure to my heart... thank you ♥♥♥
 
EM: (colleague) Dear Pana, you are truly an inspiration to me. Your spirit is bright and strong, you have never given up on life, and Patty’s Key’s is proof of your defiant spirit. You have overcome and you are a true survivor of life that can be so incredibly painful. Expressing your pain in the way you do, makes you the most transparent and honest person I have ever met - it is a true testament to the value of life which I find so beautiful. 🌈💐💚💪🏻
Patty's Keys:  It means so much to me to receive responses from my dear LogoFriends and family... thank you also for your beautiful and uplifting words of encouragement and love... I'm so grateful for people like you in my life who help me to feel that it's okay to be me...  ♥ (If you can post to the blog also, that would be great. If not, it's okay)... ♥ Love you lots ♥
 
PLEASE LEAVE YOUR COMMENT:  I am asking once more for people to comment on my blog to let me know if it’s helping and making a difference in this world.  I feel that this is what I was born to do as a result of my life experiences.

NOTE:  You may use a pseudonym in place of your name… and you don’t need to enter a website address or an e-mail address to post a comment.  I have just posted a notice comment on the last blog post to check and it posted without either of the addresses. 
 
A huge Thank you for all who do read my blog for “good”, and not just for morbid curiosity for what I’m sharing and something to gossip about. 

Thank you to all who clicked on “Like” on my last blog post.  I take this as an affirmation that I have your support and for that I am grateful… And a very special thank you to all who took the time to respond by commenting on that post… it meant the world to me to hear from you.  Because of you all, I have decided to continue posting on my blog.  Thank you so much! ♥

~ Panayiota 

​About an hour or two after I wrote the last blog post, I developed pain in the inner aspect of my right knee.  It became so sore that I could not sleep properly for nights.  I didn’t know where to put my leg so as not to be leaning on the sore spot and to keep it as comfortable as possible.  At times, my whole leg throbbed from top to toe!  I had to use crutches for a few days to get around.  I could not remember hurting it in any way, so I don’t know.  It didn’t seem to swell much at all, so I wasn’t sure if it was gout or an injury.  I had sat for two cold winter days writing that blog post… I can’t explain the stress-anxiety that happens when I’m writing a deep blog post like the last one and I imagine this one is going to be pretty much the same, because it might be my last, so it’s already causing me anxiety. 
 
It’s like there’s so much going on in my head, that I have to get it out, but in my head, there is chaos, so I sit here and just start to type and hope it will ALL come out in some kind of order.  This reminds me of when I was a child… you could give me your most tangled balls of wool to untangle and I’d sit for hours doing it until all the knots were untied and the balls were separated from each other and each rolled neatly again.  That’s a bit what writing a blog post feels like to me… like I can’t rest until it’s done.  So… I wondered if the stress-anxiety caused the sore knee (which is still hurting a little today, (15-days later), or if I hurt myself somehow… sitting for ages, cold and stiff and moved wrong, or something.  Maybe I banged it on the corner of my coffee table and don’t remember… but there seemed to be other gout-threat aches and pains in my feet and generally all over at that time… as if my body was poisoned again, so I’m thinking gout as a result of the stress of writing the last blog post… I don’t know.
 
June was a stressful month with all the traveling to and from the student’s workshops… too much excitement… long hours and lack of sleep… on the go constantly with little time to rest in-between.  My house got into a hideous mess over that time, and my room, which doubles as my office became completely out of order with workshop supplies and paperwork piled all over… after the workshops, everything felt totally out of order, but there was still so much to do… marking student’s portfolios, getting the rest of the house sorted out and trying to keep that side in order.  Yesterday, for the first time, I found a little time to start working on getting order back in my room.  I will try to finish off in here today when I’m finished this post… I need order in my surroundings… there’s enough chaos in my head without adding more. 
 
With no vacuum cleaner and my sister’s helper, for some reason no longer able to come regularly twice a week for two hours each time like before, it is harder than ever to keep up now and dust is collecting everywhere, which is not good for my son or me.  The more things get out of hand, the more chaos develops in my head… I just can’t keep up… the garden also needs attention… but I am buried here most of the time… behind my computer… either working or escaping… battling dissociation so much that it’s driving me bonkers… it has even returned to me when I bath.  I haven’t had that problem when I bath in months and thought it was gone… but it’s back!  I struggle to stay connected to finish bathing now… it’s taking longer than it should, because I am lost in there for so long again… AARGH!  And what really frustrates me is how my eyesight also seems to go with the dissociation… a bit like when you are looking at one of those pictures that you must focus your eyes deeper into, so that you can see the image that is hidden inside of its’ complexity… I’m even doing it now, and must keep pulling my eyesight back to normal focus so that I can continue with my typing… I also describe this as… “the deeps sleep” … or “falling down the rabbit hole” … like something is trying to suck me away into oblivion… or, “The Twilight Zone” … maybe the whole “chronic fatigue syndrome” thing that I mentioned before in a recent post… connected to dissociation and child abuse.
 
Anyway… I must just keep moving forward… be it in slow-motion or what… the work must go on, regardless of this great desire to run from it forever… escape reality and responsibility…
 
And as can be read in my last blog post, there’s been all this political nonsense that’s been going on in the group I’ve been a part of for so long.  That has triggered Patricia and all her deep array of emotions… and that has been my biggest struggle of all since around May and I can’t seem to put her back to rest inside of me again… she has desperately needed to have her say and is constantly silenced by the results that arise, just because she dares to speak… beaten down constantly by “mother”… mother always, always wins.  I even lost my best friend EC many years ago, because mother won!  She thrived in taking away everything and everyone who I ever dared to love more than her.
 
When Patricia tried to talk to mother about what the stepfather was doing to her… mother would respond… not in just words… but Patricia knew…  “Children shouldn’t be seen… shouldn’t be heard… should not have been born… shouldn’t exist!” … and that’s how Patricia became stuck forever inside in that agonizing place “buried in the wall” … (the picture I once drew that I have included in my book which I hope to finish and have published soon).  It just occurred to me why I used the “trapped inside the wall” symbol for Patricia when I drew here, using “the power of the other hand”… but I will keep that explanation for my book.  WOW!  It amazes me how the mind works… files things away and puts them together to try make sense of things.
 
Yet another financial blow! 
On the 7th July I wrote on Facebook :  Serious panic going on here! I sent Andrew with my car to the mechanic to see what's happening with the dreadful grinding sound whenever we push the breaks. Asked him to call me before doing anything... he sent a please call me which I only saw about half an hour later, so I called him back. They say that there's metal on metal and the whole back brake drums need to be replaced, etc. R2880+ OH MY GIDDY AUNT!!! I told him to bring it back, but he says they're already working on it!  I sent out an urgent plea on our Family WhatsApp group for R2000 loan... NOW WHAT? EEEEEK! How on earth will we eat this month!
 
My three older children responded that day… they were there for me and I knew it, and that’s more important to me than anything that any money could ever buy!  I ended up though using money off my two bank cards to pay the bill, with the knowledge that I could call on my children for assistance when our remaining funds were finished.  Thankfully, we’d already paid our other bills and bought most of our more expensive groceries for the month and still had frozen food I had made previously, in the deepfreeze… so all we’d really need towards the end of the month, would be the cheaper foods such as, basic salad veggies, bread, milk, eggs, etc.  We could do without the other “nice” stuff.  I have tons of lettuce and herbs in the garden which is proving very helpful too.  I would owe money back to the one card though, because that was not mine, so there’s already that worry for August and the timing is badly out on our car… the mechanic suggested we have that seen to also… AARGH!  My lovely sister-in-law, Irene, also responded to our plea for help and made sure that we were stocked up with “shop returns” again.  (Any damaged or outdated, products from her supermarket).  In general, these are not things that I eat as they are not part of my special diet, but they are perfect for my son and we are so grateful for this help also in times of need… what a difference it all makes.  And, one of my dear Facebook friends also responded immediately to my post about the car by donating R500 to help us with our expenses.  I did not expect that at all and felt so loved by her kind generosity.
 
The unexpected expenses have been hitting us month after month without let-up!  Enough already.  Our church will say that it’s because we have not been paying tithing that we are suffering financially, but because they were not able to ensure that I could stick to my special diet (controlling diabetes, arthritis/gout, using diet alone), it has made it completely impossible for me to commit to paying tithing.  I cannot go back to how obese and sickly I used to be!  Every cent helps me to stay on my diet… and it is NOT a luxury diet by any means.  I am healthier than I’ve ever been in years and had lost 52 kg’s.   I say “had”, because since May with all the upsets I’ve put on 3 kg’s!!!  One of the reason’s I am writing this blog post… because I must take back control of my own life and (physical/emotional) health needs again!
 
So, what do I do… DO I SHUT PATRICIA UP AGAIN AND LOCK HER AWAY… to make everyone else happy?  Do I deny her hurts and needs to be heard yet again?  Do I do this, in order to keep harmony among the people I know… keeping in mind also that “Hurt People Hurt People”, and my friends cannot understand the dynamics of Patricia… they try to and for that I’m grateful, but a person can only take so much of Patricia’s trapped frustrations, hurting and anger showing on the surface.  So, do I now lock Patricia away to protect them… or… do I push them away to give Patricia time and a chance to feel/experience exactly what she needs to feel until she can make sense of it all for herself and hopefully find her own place of healing, safety and belonging in this world. 
 
This is her time to be heard and healed… and like the sayings go…
 
You cannot go back into your past to find healing… so you have to find a way to find it here in the present…
 
And you cannot expect anyone from your past… OR PRESENT to be the ones to rescue you from your pain and struggles that stem from your past… that would be expecting far too much from people who do not and cannot fully know or understand where you are coming from…
 
So, all that is left is exactly what I learned to do with Patty… I learned that only I… MY ADULT SELF (Panayiota) could ever possibly be able to help the other parts of me.
 
If this means pulling away for a time from all those I love, as well as the finger-pointing, gossiping judges, then so be it. 
 
If it means losing more friends, because they can’t understand, and needing to distance myself from them for a time or forever if there’s no other way… then so be it too.
 
I am on a quest for healing, and whatever losses I have to incur along the way, I realise I need to face and accept them so that I do not deliberately harm others by staying too close to them.  I would NEVER deliberately harm anyone.  If I chose that kind of behavior, then I’d be no better than my mother… she left people destroyed in her wake.  I will do everything in my power to never, ever end up like her.  A promise my sister and I made to each other when we were children and have done our best to keep ever since.  So, when I see people beginning to be hurt by my weaker behaviours… that’s when it’s time to withdraw from them altogether… even if it means never having them back in my life again as a result.
 
I have recently distanced myself from my family WhatsApp group, because so often I feel more alone there than I do otherwise… (keeping in mind that I am aware that everyone else isn’t isolated like I am… they have bigger families and active, busy lives, so they can’t know what I’m feeling, or thinking during all the lonely hours of isolation each day) it was the same when I distanced myself from the ladies of the church WhatsApp group… I felt very lonely there too… and in the last few days, I’ve also made the decision to distance myself from not just the person/s who caused Patricia to surface, but the entire group, because I can feel the effects that Patricia is having on them and I cannot allow that.  I discovered that what I consider to be a close friend, recently deleted herself off of my Facebook page… a painful realization of another lost friend and judge in my life… seeing her gone from my friends list hurt a lot.  One person, in a WhatsApp message the other day, made it quite clear that she was angry with me for sharing what I had with her “in a moment of desperation… I trusted her friendship implicitly” … I’m sure she was also upset with what I shared on my last blog post, even though I did not mention her name on it … Her rejection in that moment in time was the last straw for me, (one loss of “a special friend” too many!) and that’s when I knew… ENOUGH!
 
Patricia’s emotions are right on the edge again… I once wrote:
 
THE BITTER EDGE!
© All Rights Reserved ~ www.pattyskeys.co.za
 
 I come close to the edge of the abyss at times,
And it’s not a good place to be!
Every nerve in my body is pulled tight,
As they play ‘Discomfort’s Symphony!’
My mind feels like it’s racing through time,
On a roller coaster to fast too describe,
And it’s a struggle to keep it together,
As I grasp tightly, to: I ‘Must Survive!’
The world spins around me like a hurricane,
And hail pelts my soul in the storm!
Lava spills over my insides,
As from life I am gradually torn!
But there’s always ‘One Fight Left’ within me,
Calling me to ‘Never Give Up!’
I will turn from the edge of each abyss,
And cast down its’ ‘Bitter Cruel Cup!’
Yet there is fear when I know I have been there!
For I know it can trap me again,
Because once you’ve been that close to the edge,
Pain will easily find it again!
Longing to be lost in the depths of its’ darkness,
Where dense fog will cloud over reality,
Engulfing!  Consuming!  Possessing!
In the hope of setting pain free!
 
~ Panayiota
(11th February 2005 – 24h00 – EC, thank you for being there for me today!)
 
I also wrote a few years before:
 
INSANITY IS A PLACE OF REFUGE!
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“Insanity is a place where a hurt and damaged spirit goes for refuge in this world, when it can’t find love, acceptance, understanding, help or peace, anywhere else!”
 
~ Panayiota
(14 July 2000)
 
I also wrote the same day:
 
THE SANITY OF HAVING A TRUE FRIEND
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“NO ONE WHO IS BLESSED WITH A TRUE FRIEND COULD POSSIBLE GO INSANE.”
 
~ Panayiota
(14 July 2000)
 
FRIENDSHIP CIRCLE CRASHING
So anyway, at this time, I am feeling my family and friendship circles crashing once more and my sense of belonging dwindling rapidly again.  Because Patricia has surfaced, people are moving away… or… I am pushing them away… I am not 100% sure which… I think both.  I find it hard enough to deal with Patricia’s overwhelming intensity of emotions when she’s on the surface… my friends surely find it even harder… she is not a happy camper… who wants to be around someone who is always feeling frustrated and angry and speaks her mind.  I see and feel their connection fading in Patricia’s presence and that creates even more anxiety.  Patricia is hurting… and without meaning to, she hurts others… I cannot allow that to happen.
 
WONDERING ALONE BETWEEN HEAVEN AND EARTH
© All Rights Reserved ~ www.pattyskeys.co.za
 
Losing faith in your fellow man leaves you wondering in a lonely and desolate place somewhere between heaven and earth.
 
~ Panayiota
(9th December 2000)
 
Someone posted something yesterday on Facebook that triggered this blog post for me… I’ve changed the wording and attached it as a picture quote. 
 
IS THIS MY LAST BLOG POST?  You get to decide…
I am requesting responses to this blog post please. 
 
If anyone at all is being helped by my blog, please let me know by commenting publicly below this post. 
 
If I receive no responses, then I will no longer post any personal posts, other than donation requests on my blog again.  I will continue though, to write blog posts and keep those somewhere safe.  I will also send copies to someone I feel I can trust completely to keep for me.  I will ask that person, that when I die, to post all my blog posts under the heading “Our voices from our grave” because I (Panayiota, Patricia, Patty) might be silenced while we’re alive, but we will NOT be silenced in death also. 
 
Depending on your responses… if any at all, I will make my decision whether to keep posting my personal experiences on my blog… that is in your hands.
 
Ugly posts will not be read or posted and will be deleted… that is in my hands.
 
A song that popped up on Facebook yesterday… I felt that it fitted well with my current situation and did bring a sense of comfort for which I am grateful.
 
Lauren Daigle - You Say (Official Music Video)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sIaT8Jl2zpI
 
Thank you for sharing with me today.
 
~ Panayiota 
 
If peace means being alone… then that’s where I want to be.

(Warning: This could be a disturbing post for sensitive readers)
This is one of those posts where I don’t even know where to start… so much has happened in a short space of time… how will I put it altogether… how will I remember it all in sequence… how will I be able to keep it short?  All I know is that I must write about this.  For me this is a vitally important post.  I’ve learned so much over this time… I must not waste this learning.  Will anyone understand if I share this?  Will I be throwing pearls to swine?   I pray that sharing this will be helpful to someone else out there… that the gradual awakening which is so important and valuable to me on my healing journey, will become valuable and healing for someone else also.  I give myself permission to write this post as lengthy as it’s going to have to be… there’s just no other way.  Why this posting is so important to me, will only become evident toward the end when all that I share has come together.
 
May 2018: I had been dragged into a situation between two people that had absolutely NOTHING to do with me, but because I knew the one and then the other (initially not knowing that they knew each other), I was pulled through the mud of their relationship as if I were supposed to be a part of it.  The suddenly changed behavior of the one person was so bizarre and unsettling to me, that the whole disturbance caused my inner-adolescent to surface over that time.  I started to feel guilty for something that was not meant to be my problem, just as I did many years ago as a young adolescent.  I knew that it was not meant to be my problem, but because I even existed on the outer border of their problem, just by knowing the two people independently, I was made to feel BAD.  And then, as the situation progressed from bad to worse, I also started to feel threatened. 
 
At the time, I did not realise that Patricia’s being triggered to the surface was all a prelude to a journey towards healing for her over the weeks to come.  There are no coincidences…  (Patricia, my over-protective, angry inner-adolescent-self)
 
At the same time as all this was happening, Patricia was feeling threatened in another area altogether, where my perceived “mother-games” trigger by someone else was threatening my place of belonging…  my sense of safety, family and being… Hence the blog post that I wrote recently with Patricia’s voice.  Then, once I was feeling more settled a few days after writing that blog post, I realised that it needed to be removed, because it was not what I would have written on any good day, or even a bad one.  (Patricia had written it).
 
June 2018: With all the preparations for the June (and again in November) workshops (Introductory and Intermediate Logotherapy students end of course examination workshops), it is a very busy and stressful time for me.  With my oldest son’s separation and divorce, my young daughter in law having a procedure done on her heart, my dear old daddy having his pacemaker battery renewed in surgery, and all the other stuff going on this May, I started my workshop preparations later than usual which only added to my stress-load, and on top of that, due to circumstances beyond my control, my whole presentation on “The Tribe and the Wounded Healer” had to be completely redone on the day before the first Introductory course workshop began.  So, on the 10th June, I spent the entire day frantically working on the presentation to have it ready in time to share with the students.  Almost the entire presentation was changed as I personalized it, shortened it, changed the language of it and made it more Logotherapeutic, renaming it, “Logotherapy & The Wounded Healer”.  I was pleased with the outcome as it had become closer to my experience and heart and therefore easier to present, without having to read off the hand notes. 
 
It wasn’t all good this time around
During the workshops, several things went wrong.  My phone went off during one of my mentor, Teria’s talks, my new computer wouldn’t play the DVD, and, on another day, I never brought the right cord for it to connect to the projector, forgetting that it was different to the one we usually used at the workshops.  I can’t remember what else when wrong, but these things were enough to make me feel so bad… as if I’d let Teria and our students down.  Teria had also heard about some disturbing struggles within another group not connected to the student workshops, which I was sure had unsettled her dear heart terribly and it made me uncomfortable to know that she had to deal with that ugly nonsense on her visit to South Africa. 
 
Thank you for kind donations (I just had to slip this one in quick)
I was so grateful to the kind lady who donated the money I needed to get to and from Unisa during the workshop period which ran over three weeks in June.  I’m not quite sure how my car made it, because it was making a dreadful grinding sound every time I used the breaks.  Mechanic, Michael at my son’s place of work did look at the breaks and said that they were new (which they are as far as I remembered), so he felt that something had gone out of line (I don’t remember what).  I did not have time over June to do anything about it.  My youngest son will be off work this weekend and hopefully he will be well enough to take it in to be sorted out then.  He’s recently had his usual flare up that always starts with a sore throat and what looks like sinusitis (but, watery mucus and swollen turbinates only).  So, this time I immediately put him on medication for allergic, asthma and even hay fever type symptoms and so far, he has been responding very well and although he has some intermittent coughing going on, it’s thankfully nothing like the usual worrying development of his symptoms that we have become so used to over the years since his lung operation.  After my donation plea, I had one other kind donor, donate R200 which I will use towards whatever needs to be done on the car, so a very big thank you to that lady who also responded with such love.  Hopefully the car fix won’t be anything too expensive… please.  I would still love for any donations towards the other things I requested the need for help on in the last blog post.  If anyone can help, my son and I would really appreciate it very much… thank you.
 
The dead dog (warning:  reading the following two inserts might be painful for animal lovers like myself)
A sight that has haunted me, was created on my trips home every day from Unisa over the three weeks of the workshop.  Every day as I drove past a certain point, I saw the same dead dog lying about a meter off of the road in the sun and dirt.  A medium sized young dog looking like a black Labrador.  I wondered why I had to see it every day, and on some days, it looked like it’s body had moved position since the day before.  Why couldn’t I be looking at something else when I passed that dead dog… why did I keep seeing it?  Was there a reason… a message in it for me?  
 
I identified with the poor cow’s agony
The day after the student workshops ended, I still needed to attend two days of Advanced and Diplomate course student’s mid-year plenary session at Unisa which added to my exhaustion but was still a wonderful time to spend with the students I’d once assisted on their journey through the Introductory and Intermediate courses.  On the Thursday we ended the plenary session around lunch time so that we could all prepare for the graduation that evening. Dr Kanda and I traveled to the Cow Farm in Pretoria where Teria and I always meet for lunch and a chat on her visits to South Africa.  I loved that Dr Kanda was coming with this time to enjoy this wonderful place with us.
 
On the way to the bathroom after lunch and before we all travelled together to our Student’s graduation evening in Edenvale, we were delighted to see all the cows heading very slowly up a ramp together, waiting their turn to go into the barn where they were to be milked. 
 
My delight suddenly turned to horror when I saw one of the cows, half-way up the ramp, squashed against the railings by other cows bustling all around her… she was hunched backed and straining uncomfortably, with a newly broken birth-cord hanging out of her back end, still attached to an afterbirth inside of her.  Her udders were so swollen, that as she strained to try and push out her afterbirth, the milk squirted and dripped out of her teats.  She looked so terribly uncomfortable and in obvious pain. 
 
I felt horrified… Where was her brand-new calf?  Had they already taken it away from her to fatten it elsewhere where all the other motherless calves were isolated, each alone in their own tiny, cold, dark cell?  Were they only interested in the money they could make from the mother cow’s milk (her calves milk!)  It was such a horrible and disturbing sight to witness.  I made sure to find someone and told them about the poor cow… they called a manager and I told her.  She looked very surprised and horrified and promised to go see to the cow immediately.  Teria, Dr Kanda and I then left for the graduation.  But the memory of that cow’s agony still haunts me.  I felt helpless as we drove away from that place and prayed that the manager did indeed do something to help the mother cow… to ease her burden.
 
Something so amazing happened – I found Sister Cecilia (I don’t believe in coincidences)
Something really amazing happened at the Intermediate workshop.  I had stuffed a little black book into my bag at home, in case I needed something to write on.  Before we left the lecture room at teatime that day, I took out the little back book and wrote on a blank page, the tea, coffee, etc. orders of each student.  It’s easier to do it that in the classroom while they are all together, before going down to the restaurant.  At the restaurant, I wanted to write more neatly, a list of what could be ordered, so it was ready for the next day.  As I turned the pages of the little black book, I came across something written by my mother’s hand.  My mother had the most beautiful handwriting.  I saw a person’s full name and an address, and next to the full name in brackets was written (Cecilia).  My mind buzzed as I made the connection from my distant past.  This was a possible link to Sister Cecilia, a Catholic nun.  One of the rare and only memories of happiness I still retained (though vaguely), from my past.  We lived in Rhodesia at the time, and whenever our mother went into hospital as a result of epilepsy, (The St. Anne’s Hospital near our home), Sister Cecilia would come with some other nuns, to take care of the needs of my sister and me.  I also remembered them bringing chicken and other wonderful treats for us for Christmas… (hardly any details left in my memory… just a very blurred, but very happy memory of the kind and loving nuns.)
 
Surreal
I was alone sorting out the tables and chairs in the sun while Teria and the students were collecting their drinks.  I sat down, still stunned by having found Sr Cecilia’s address.  Next thing, one of the students came to sit down next to me… A Catholic nun… the first we’ve ever had on our courses as far as I remember.  It was a very surreal moment for me… I wanted to cry… another student arrived and sat on the other side of me, and I wanted to explain myself, so tried to tell her what had just happened, and the tears instantly rose to the surface, so I couldn’t tell her anything more… I had to contain myself so as not to have to leave the table in tearful embarrassment. 
 
Although I had a full name and address in that little black book, I was too eager to wait for a letter to reach her… was she even still alive?  We hadn’t seen our mother for many years, so it must have been a long time ago that she would have written in that book… Where on earth did the little book come from anyway?  Why hadn’t I seen it before?  I was stunned by this incredible moment in time.  On the 26th June, I looked up the name on the Internet and yes… I found it!  There were no contact details attached to it, but instead a contact to the “Global Sisters Report”.  So, I wrote to that e-mail address briefly explaining how I knew Sr Cecilia and asked if they knew how I could contact her.  The next day, the person responded saying that she had sent my letter onto Sister Cecilia and hoped that she would respond to me… which to my absolute delight, she did.  I found her letter on my computer when I returned home late in the evening, from the student’s graduation on the 28th June.
 
I always remembered being very little at the time of those beautiful nuns, but I was in for a surprise.  When Sister Cecilia responded on the 28th June, she addressed me as Patricia… she remembered me as Patricia Jooste, the name I was known by during the time that our mother was married to our abusive, “child-molester” stepfather.  I think my mother must have left him at that stage… how old was I then, I wonder… anything between 12-15… I think… but still very much a little girl inside. 
 
It was surreal being addressed as Patricia, especially at this time… but something inside of me just KNEW… that this was also not a coincidence… there was a reason for all the events that had triggered Patricia to the surface just recently… there was a reason I found Sister Cecilia at this time… there was a reason for it all, and even for what was still to come. 
 
Being a lot more mindful of the goings on in my life and mind these days, I pondered on all the events of late… and I knew that Life was working something in me… a personal miracle in progress.
 
Was it Patricia’s turn to find healing?  Is that what it was all about?  Yes-Yes, I was sure it was.  Suddenly it all became so clear… instead of seeing all the bad stuff as BAD… I was now seeing it in a new and awakening light… I started to feel HELD… LOVED… NOT SO ALONE.  Life was working a miracle in me once again, and it was for me to work with it and to receive it and make the most of this wonderful opportunity for healing my Patricia.
 
When I wrote back to Sister Cecilia, who is now in her 80’s, in a care center for the aged and suffers from arthritis, I sat for a few moments staring at the last line of my letter… how would I sign off?  For so many years I had absolutely hated the name, Patricia Jooste.  My mother changed my name at school and that was what I was called… never, ever by my own true name, other than by my beloved Greek stepmother who always called me Panayiota, and occasionally one or two others intermittently throughout my life.  Because of my Greek mother, I learned to value my true name greatly, so it always hurt that nobody else would call me by it… even the rest of my Greek family and my own dad who I love dearly, have always called me Pat.
 
So, I sat there, looking at that last line of my letter to Sister Cecilia… how would I sign off? 
 
Thinking about all the recent events that led up to this moment in time, I knew in my heart that without a shadow of a doubt, Life was making the way clear for Patricia’s healing.  How could I not, but to sign off to this dear old lady with Patricia… in honour of Patricia… yes, perhaps she too has longed to hear her name being called and recognized and fully accepted with my unconditional love.  I signed my letter off… Patricia.
 
28th June - The graduation evening was wonderful, and I met up with two dear friends, Audrey and Sue which helped to make the evening extra special for me.  Teria spoke to us all and her message centered around behaving, one towards another, in a true Logotherapeutic and optimally human way in the best interest of all.  I am quite sure and would hope, that not only myself, but everyone in the room was touched for all that is good, beautiful, right, healing and true by her message.   I was so disappointed, that in my exhaustion from the whole months activities, that I completely forgot to put my recorder on to capture every empowering word of Teria’s wisdom. 
 
Right at the end of the graduation, after Teria had spoken and we went to have tea together, the lights went out and we finished off the evening by candle and cell-phone light.  Something niggled at me right at the end of the evening, when I realised that, that evening was the last time I’d see Teria after three intense weeks of her company… and that I had not said a proper goodbye to her when she left… I felt I had been prevented from going out to say goodbye to her and those thoughts festered in my head overnight and…
 
30th June 2018:  And then it was Saturday…
Both my son and I had arrived home late on Friday night and realised our water had been cut.  It was still off all day Saturday and if it wasn’t for my little sister, Mira, popping in with a large flask of water for tea, and helping me lift a heavy bucket to flush the toilet and fill the cistern ready for the next flush, I just don’t know what I would have done.  (My son was working).  Mira also took two of my large buckets home with her and filled them with clean water… her and my oldest Nephew brought them inside and made sure I was settled for the day.  Of course, they saw my tears, but their kindness and visits helped a lot to lift my spirit.
 
Whenever the workshops end, it feels to me, just like the day after Christmas, when all the rushing-excitement and festivities are suddenly over… THE NOTHING returns.  I sat in my quiet house, surrounded by what seemed to be total chaos to me… chaos with my work because so much had gotten so far behind during the workshops… chaos in my home for the same reason… and chaos in my head, because I was still agonizing over the various disturbance that had happened of late.  How could I allow people to have so much power over my thoughts, to cause so much chaos.  Oh, how Patricia would love to write here thoughts here right now, because she is still angry and unsettled, but I am fighting to keep her in check… her voice comes with no filters, and as my adult-self, Panayiota, I also need to heed Teria’s wisdom and hope that it has made the general impact needed to bring back the peace and sense of belonging I so desperately need at this time.
 
Deepest darkest depression
I woke on Saturday with the deepest darkest depression already well set in place… as if I was finally able to rip off the masks of “everything’s ok” so that I could be present during the workshops, to take on my responsibilities in an adult way.  The adrenaline high that I’d been on to cope had suddenly crashed onto some other level and I found myself in a dark place once more of, NO LONGER BELONGING… I felt that I’d come as far as I could go on my Logotherapy journey…. It had done all it could do for me and there was nothing left anymore to be done… it was over.
 
I wanted to escape the anguish I was feeling, but I kept thinking of that little dog lying there dead, on the side of the road.  Who cared about the dog… how many would someday when I’m dead, pass my gravestone and not care about the name written on it, or the person buried in it?
 
I am not ready to die, I still have so much to do.  I must fulfil my life’s purpose before I can die, so that maybe then others would really care that I’d BEEN. 
 
In the anguish I was experiencing during the morning, I kept thinking of that poor cow… I was identifying deeply with her struggle… I was feeling her pain, although on an emotional level, and her internal moaning and groaning, straining-agonies.  Patricia was screaming so hard and so loud inside of me, but her screams were not able to come out… still STUCK in that awful place of suffocation that I once drew of her during my time in therapy about 10 years ago… the picture I now have in my book, which I hope to find time to finish the self-editing on and have published someday soon.
 
It occurred to me, that it was actually Patricia’s overwhelming burden and intensity that caused me to once write the following poem.
 
Intensity
© All rights reserved ~ www.pattyskeys.co.za
 
The intensity is more than I can bear!
Burning acid on every rip and tear!
Bubble, bubble toil and trouble!
So much chaos, so much muddle!
I cannot bear it anymore...
But I'm not ready for Heaven's Door!
Help me!  Help me!
Please make me brave!
Save me! Save me! 
Please help me...
Save...
 
~ Panayiota Ryall
(07 October 2014 – Written in the middle of a sleepless dark night somewhere)

I could never be a “real” trainer
Another thing that was playing greatly on my mind at the time and that was also shaking me up over the workshop period, was that I came to the full realization (once again), that I could never be a real trainer.  I can do little bits here and there to assist Teria with her training of the students.  I can do presentations… my presentations always done with reasonable confidence and I am able to answer questions about my life ok… but, when I do Teria’s presentation, which I have done over and over and should know off by heart by now, I still find that I need to read off of my notes!  Self-consciousness causes me to listen to my own voice when I’m reading and lose even more confidence!  I sometimes stammer over the words… forget my place and feel like a fool.  And, there are times when Teria leaves me with the students at the end of the day, when they are working in a group (on their own), on some exercise they each take turns to discuss with each other.  It’s wonderful to listen to them and how they open-up and share so deeply with each other, but just let one turn and ask me a question that I should easily have the answer to… I instantly go blank… any hope of response is silenced by my own messed-up mind.  AAARGH!!!
 
Going back into my past, I remember our mother waking us up in the night, expecting us to come immediately to sing a song to her visitor, mostly her latest boyfriend… the song we sang to her earlier in the day.  She loved to use us in this way… to show us off to her friends… She’d drag us, still half asleep, to the sitting room… “Patty, sing that song you sang to me earlier… it was so lovely… come on… SING!”  Like puppets on a string, we had no option, but to preform instantly at her command and if we dared to fail, we knew what was going to come next.  She’d send us back to our room, showing obvious disgust that we failed her… embarrassing us and giving us “THE LOOK”… and with that, we would know………… there we would lie, fearful and wide-eyed in the blackness, trying to fall back to sleep, but too scared to, because we knew that once the visitor had left, mother would be coming for us in all her fury.  So tired… so desperately, desperately tired… but too scared to sleep, because the ugly vicious, growling, screeching monster was coming for us soon.  She’d rip us out of our beds by our hair and beat the living daylights out of us… THE END!
 
So, with so much going on, Patricia was back in full force, but the cork on her anger (that had been fizzing explosively inside for years) had burst off and the tears of deepest despair and frustration flowed uncontrollably.  All this first triggered by the violent shaking of the bottle by my perceptions of, and reactions (desperate need to protect) to the behavior of others during May and June, the stressful RUSH of June and other incidents mentioned in this post.  The bottle of my equilibrium was shaken even more violently by Patricia’s desperate need to protect those who were being hurt in the all the unnecessary commotion… just like it was when she tried to protect her little sister may years before.  (An overwhelmingly impossibly frustrating task).
 
Who could understand… unless you had been there… unless you had been my Patricia.
 
The (exhaustion) depression totally consumed me on Saturday to the point that I felt to give up completely.  My youngest son was at work, so I was alone… totally and utterly alone in all the chaos. 
 
I started to want OUT… not death… for some reason I am not ready for death yet… I used to wish for it all the time (before I had children and grandchildren and before Logotherapy found me and gave me an even greater will to live.)  But I felt that I could not go on living the way I am in a place of such disturbance.  I could not live where I didn’t feel I fully belonged… The anxiety was so overwhelming on Saturday, that I felt I could tear the flesh off my own body… I wanted OUT… but how could I achieve that… find a new job… where would I go in search of work… A home for the disabled not far from my place… Old folks’ homes nearby… (I love old folk so much).
 
And so, my thoughts scraped like sandpaper against my skin throughout the day… I developed my IBS pain again which lasted a good few days.  For three days, I kept getting a pain in my heart… a sharp stabbing pain, especially when I breathed in.  I went through a stage many years before when I had that pain… I was told that an excess adrenaline release was causing painful contractions on the apex of my heart… I don’t know if that’s true.  On Sunday I woke up aching all over and my feet threatening gout again, but I acted immediately, and the threat became less over a few days.

A friendly little bird 
Sometime during the day, I went out into the garden to hang washing.  The sun shone warmly on  my face and a little bird greeted me as I went out.  It danced around on the ground so close to where I was standing... no more than a  meter from me.  I'm not sure what kind of bird it is... it has visited me before when I've been sad... I will take a photo of it next time I see it.  I am guessing it is a Cape robin, but I could be wrong. It sung the gentlest and sweetest little song while I was out there.  I felt strongly that the little bird was there to lift my spirits... to tell me that all would be well.  I believe that those who have crossed over the veil before me, still find a way to let me know that they are with me.  Who could this bird be I wondered... some names crossed my mind... Norma maybe (my dear old friend who I had to leave behind when I moved away from Benoni)... maybe Doris (my dear old house-helper who I loved like a mother)... (I didn't know if it was a male or female bird). Whoever it was, I felt their comforting love and a sense of rejoicing... everything was going to be alright.

My daughter is a blessing in my life
At some stage on Saturday, my daughter called and invited me to lunch at her house on Sunday.  Moments later, my oldest son asked on our family WhatsApp group if anyone would like a visit from him and my three grandchildren, because he had them for the week as it was their school holidays.  My daughter responded that they could also come to lunch on Sunday, and suddenly, I had something lovely to look forward to… and that really helped to lift me from the worst of the depression. 
 
On Sunday, we had a wonderful time together.  My son and I had a good chat with each other… we both needed someone to talk to and we understand each other more than most other people understand us.  I was reminded once again of what an incredible spirit he has and rejoiced in that knowledge.  I have had similar chats with my second son in the past that have lifted me to the skies and am so proud to be the mother of the wonderful children that Heaven has blessed me with.  I had the opportunity to share with my oldest, a WhatsApp conversation I’d had the day before with Dr Kanda that I also found so helpful in lifting me from my depression.  My son really appreciated what Dr Kanda had shared with me and he understood our WhatsApp conversation and agreed with it all.  It was so special to be able to share something so personal with my son that day and I was grateful to my daughter for entertaining the children outside so that my son and I could talk.  She is so very special to my heart.
 
The WhatsApp conversation with Dr Kanda on Saturday
I mentioned to Dr Kanda that I was very depressed, because he wanted to visit.  I wrote back that I’d rather he didn’t come.  I’d taken a tablet for the depression that I’d used successfully in my far distant past, and someone had recently given me some, just to see if they still worked so well.  I only took half, because I wanted to monitor how they would work now.  I couldn’t afford to sleep all day with so much work to do.
 
I wrote to Dr Kanda: “If the tablet works, it will be ok, but if I am like I am now, it will just be a garbled moaning and groaning time and I don’t have time for that.  I’ve got too much catching up to do.  I’m not going to do myself in so please don’t worry.  Just feeling very frustrated, angry and sad all at the same time and feel like I’ve had enough for now.  Too tired to discuss it anyway.  I just feel overwhelmed and need to catch up.  Any interruption would prevent catching up.  Thank you for caring and have a good evening.”
 
WhatsApp conversation continued on Sunday
I asked Dr Kanda if he was aware of something that had unsettled me in the last moments of the graduation, but I (Patricia) felt that he did not give me an adequate answer.  Picking up that there might be a problem, he mentioned again that he wanted to visit, and I said, “No”… I was far too busy with too much work to catch up on and that any interruptions would only add to the stress of getting up to date with my work.  He then asked if I was struggling with something and so I shared that I’d not said a proper goodbye to Teria on the evening and my unsettled thoughts on why I believed that could have happened.  Over the years, I have come to find a friend in Dr Kanda who, even if he doesn’t understand things all the time, he genuinely tries his best to and has earned my trust over time as a result.
 
He responded: “Take care and if possible a break from work.  I could not work yesterday as I realised the extent of damage and hurt caused. We need to be strong to carry our load.  Ours is to serve.  The rest will follow.  With loving care.”
 
I was touched by his wisdom and it opened a door of trust for me to share a little more and to reassure him, because I didn’t want to leave him worrying.  It was so good to have someone to talk to in that dark place. 
 
I wrote: “Beautifully said as always.  I’m in the space to find a new job and cut myself off completely, because I cannot hold Patricia’s intensity like this… it’s literally unbearable.  Her angry and frustrated screaming is not silent inside of me… it’s too loud and desperate… staying as numb as possible to keep her from taking over… talking will make me too vulnerable to keep her in… she is a danger to my life because she is in too much pain… I will visit my daughter later today for lunch.  It will help a lot.  Thanks so much.”
 
His response was one of the most beautifully inspired and uplifting that I could have hoped for in that moment of time.  I felt fully acknowledged and accepted in my weakness, and in that moment, I could feel Patricia’s healing beginning.
 
“Will you be able to nurse Patricia as she deserves unconditional love from you and not shame because she is angry.  She is angry for a reason and she needs to be acknowledged for being a protective guardian.  It is time for her to feel loved and accepted regardless of what happened or will happen.  Logotherapy space is for you unconditionally.  There will be difficult times of trial but the truth, the beautiful and the good will prevail.  Giving up is not an option.  Fighting decently for a decent life is the way to go.  Maybe Patricia does not need to fight this time, but to tell us how she did it, to keep us alive.  You see, maybe Patricia needs to graduate to become a coach, a guide of the new warriors of meaning.  With loving care”
 
In tears of gratitude and a real sense of being held by the love of a true friend, I wrote back and thanked him.
 
Friends do get hurt
Two friends wrote to me around that time.  Because I (Patricia) was still feeling BAD when the one wrote, and because Patricia does not trust, when each one said kind things to me and that they cared and loved me, I felt NOTHING (maybe even angry that they were being kind to me and telling me they loved me)… I have felt that before, and realised more than ever this time around, that when Patricia is on the surface, her emotions are a lot different to my own.  Patricia is unable to respond to love… she has no filter and says things from an angry, frustrated and very hurting place of distrust.  Patricia is numb to love… she cannot believe in it… she was born out of her stepfather’s frequent abuses and rapes.  Patricia does not fear losing friends… she doesn’t care, and I truly believe that she could even be a real danger to my younger inner-child (Patty) and my adult self’s existence.  Not realizing that the anguish she feels is solely hers, I believe that she could easily take our lives to protect us from her own overwhelming and unbearable intensity of emotions.  
 
Having said that, I also believe that she has sacrificed her own will to die… to be free of her own sufferings and anguish, because of her overwhelming sense of responsibility to protect “us”… to keep us safe.  I believe that she LIVED for her little sister at a time that she wanted only to die… to be free… just as she is now living for Patty and Panayiota.
 
Trust will always be an issue
Having gone through what I have over the last few weeks, I realise all too well, that sharing my weaker-self with others (even writing these blog posts), has exposed even more the real me and that this will potentially further damage my relationships.  But when one is on a genuine quest for healing as I am, one cannot allow any threats of loss of friendships or reputation, or judgements against one’s self to diminish one’s will to progress… healing must remain my one true goal and focus and I cannot allow anything to get in the way of that.  Healing takes real effort… and by what I am learning, it also takes sacrifice and even loss.
 
Sharing with one or two people, I realise that they are taking what I’ve shared and sharing it among themselves.  This could lead to them deciding to protect me in future from what is really going on out there… which means, they will withdraw their truths from me… I see this as a painful LOSS.  Other people will take what I’ve shared and along with their label for me of “Mental Illness”, they will use it to shift responsibility, to justify and cover up their own bad behaviors and judgements.  Some will feel sorry for me… I DON’T WANT ANYONE TO FEEL SORRY FOR ME!!!  DAMMIT!  I’ve come too far for such an insult to my growth thus far! 
 
I cannot let any of this distract me from the responsibility I owe to myself for my own healing journey… I must not give up, even if in the end, I end up healed but entirely alone with my “Peace of mind”.  Anything would be better than the anguish of being so fragmented by the otherwise burning and lasting effects of child abuse on my life.
 
I will not allow Patty’s tearful-brokenness or Patricia’s desperate, angry screaming go with me to my grave… if I allowed that, then my abusers from my childhood and all the stand-by finger-pointing abusers ever since then would have won… Mother always, ALWAYS WON! 
 
But this time I will not let her, no matter what or who I lose along the way… This time… I WIN!
 
‘FIGHT THE GOOD FIGHT’ TO BE ‘ME’!
© All rights reserved ~ www.pattyskeys.co.za
 
I sometimes ponder upon my ‘haunting fears’,
I know ‘they’ were created since my difficult youth,
I wonder how I came so far with ‘them’,
For they exist, as plain as the truth!
 
I know I’m a special woman today,
I believe in the ‘LOVE’ of my heart,
Yet still the ‘fears’ haunt me so often,
And I’m sure ‘they’ will never depart!
 
I’ve learnt to expect ‘them’ - My burden,
To carry with me through all my days,
And although faith has made ‘them’ less frightening,
‘They’ still insist on ‘their’ ways!
 
‘They’ so want to rule who I am,
And control my destiny,
But I know all ‘their’ tricks and ‘their’ games,
And I will keep fighting, "The Good Fight’ to be ‘ME’!
 
(28 March 2002)
 
Thank you for sharing with me today
 
~ Panayiota (on behalf of Patty and Patricia)
 
I don’t believe in coincidence 
Just as there are symbols guiding us in our dreams, so I believe also, that there are symbols guiding us in our wakefulness… we just need to become more “awake” to notice them and take action on them.

Life Shocks:  https://www.irishtimes.com/culture/books/what-are-lifeshocks-and-what-can-we-do-with-them-1.3545670?mode=amp
 
10 mindful minutes:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qzR62JJCMBQ