A few months before the “un”-happy ending, I met a couple of guys, friends of my mom, in Gordan’s Bay. It was on the 18th November 2002, a day before I wrote my matric year’s final Geography paper.
This very profound night, was an engraving into everything, from the alcoholic drink I chose to who I decided to get involved with. As much as I refrained from my drug inhibited “Bermuda Triangle,” I automatically attracted the same kind of triangle wherever I pretended to escape to.
I subconsciously hunted the “thrill,”or any environment which encompassed my sad, yet wanted reality. “Living life on the edge” is an understatement for the “edge” I was seeking.
After my break up with you know who, I had to “explore” and challenge myself to a more daring choices, unsuccessfully, my failed attempt to repair my heart was just a visard, pretending that it was never damaged.
My weekends of continuous partying and recreational drugs lengthened. Nights became 24 hour days, days became weeks of no sleep, over compensating for the odd days on which I decided to rest.
Rum, beers and ecstasy was in overflow of supply. From one night club to the next, always ended with meeting up with my “edge.” We would meet at Valerie’s in Kuils River, majority of the time and always ended up at my house, wherever we are living at the time (Gypsy Kings).
Stopping off at “Little House on the Prairie” aka Prairies, in Kuils River for alcohol (obvious to those who know this place) to continue the unfulfilled drunk and lucid feeling.
As little thought was being applied to the repercussions of what I presumed was “innocent,” there was even less thought given to the “ugly truth” that I have mislead myself ending with me chasing the wrong “destiny.”
Abandonment and neglect was the two prominent emotions that I did not want to endure, yet I was doing exactly that, to myself. People’s acceptance of me was my ultimate focus, yet I was unable to accept who “I” was (does this sound familiar???).
That, for me, was the epiphany of a “lost soul,” not knowing left from right, “un”-present thought stability, impulsive and dead end self convincing decisions, realising that my concocted “reality” was only that because it was created, accepted and attracted, by “me.”
A truth I needed to admit and face, an “un”-predictable and “un”-planned course detour I reared to when “too late” was almost too late.
A gyration of “un”-expected and “un”-foreseen events, throwing showers of “spanners in the works,” leaving a doubtful, inexperienced and terrified adolescent.
At the time I was in a relationship with my daughter, Shay-Leigh’s dad. Whether or not I should classify it as a relationship is and was “un”-official. I lead myself to believe that it was a “relationship” even though I knew it was not, if you know what I mean. I would see him every other weekend, along with the 15 other clan members.
It was fun, “un”-baggaging any depressed and morbid emotions, enjoying the present moment with the “un”-present feelings. Laughter, pranks, annoying, teasing and drinking was the optical illusion created to conceal the unknown “skeletons in the closet.”
- I did not take cognisance of the scientifically proven theory, “for every action there is a reaction,” after all my conceptual thinking patterns convinced me that I was invincible.
The truth was, that I was in actual fact, “INVISIBLE.”