I'm not doing well.. I wish I could say I was... and that time heals all... but I am just not.
On Monday, I finally had a bath. Not just a quick one to maintain baseline cleanliness, but a good soak. I Shaved, I washed my hair, I moisturized and finally figured out how to use this brush properly, almost eradicating the need for a hair straightener. As I put fresh warm clothes on and took a little care of myself, I felt a breath of happiness... fleeting, but it was there.
Career Failure. Ground Control to Major Tom
When it comes to survival and restarting a career, I have put SO much effort into changing paths... studying my ass off and successfully working as an online ghostwriter, only to have the company I worked for fall apart... Applying to over 148 jobs on the "Recruit My Mom" website alone, posting like crazy here only to watch what was a really successful account with healthy growth, despite withdrawing and powering down, fall into dismal territory as the price in crypto crashed and post earnings have gone from anything between 20 to 40 usd, to 2usd if I'm lucky. People keep telling me to keep my chin up ad keep Putting one foot in front of the other, but it does feel like.... things are hopeless.
Claire's Crazy Cake's became a real business as of April 2025 and as much blood, sweat and tears as I have poured into it, I have to realize at some stage, that I am wasting my time. I spent the very last of my own money and combined it with an investment from Zak, as well as a generous donation of a new oven from a family member, and it has just tanked. It feels like I am constantly banding my head against the wall... expecting different results.
I just turned 40.
My dad's career started tanking around this age. It's always been in the back of my mind, but I've always considered that failure may be some kind of generational curse. It's not like my dad didn't try. My father always had a problem with alcohol, but this was only exacerbated by people taking advantage of him and having the rug pulled out from under him so may times.
I was always afraid I'd end up just like him, and it's hard not to be terrified by the voice in my head that tells me "You were born poor, you will die poor."
My Children and My Wonderful Husband Person
I sound utterly ungrateful for what I have. I have a man that would literally throw himself into the fire for his family. A good man, a kind man, a loyal man... a man who goes to work, gets home, deals with homework, if I'm too sore, which is very often, he makes dinner, and then he posts relentlessly on this platform to try to plug the holes, and if that isn't enough, he studies until at least 3
am, waking up at 5am to 6am, depending on where he is working for the day, only to have it all fall apart on him again and again, on a repetitive cycle, thanks to me.
I have so much to be proud of when it comes to my kids. I am about to start teaching my eldest how to drive, while our youngest enters his teens. I feel like a young woman, trapped in a body that is failing me... I always wanted to have another child, just one more, before menopause set in, but it loos like I am too late. Look, I don't have medical aid, and I would NEVER give birth at a state hospital, and I know that I would struggle enormously to get through a pregnancy, as it would mean having to stop 90% of my medication. Pregnancy is a temporary state though... and that feeling of having a baby grow inside of you is something indescribable. I remember closing my eyes and, especially later on in my pregnancy with my son, I'd try to guess what position he was in, based on what I could feel. I could feel hands and feet, elbows and knees and even where his head was. He would respond to my touch. I remember them handing him to me, after the morphine and anesthetic had worn off enough from the emergency C-section for me to wake up, and feeling unbelievable, pure and immeasurable love.
It would be absolute insanity to have another child. We already have three and the age gap would be enormous. We'd be insane to try to start from scratch.... I guess I just always thought I'd have more time...
Our little family is actually quite big and celebrations like father's day or Christmas or birthdays feel so beautiful and our home always feels so warm as we decorate cookies together. I have all I ever wanted. So what is wrong with me, wanting more when I already have more than most people could wish for.
"Time heals all hurt" is a lie...
I still struggle with pain from a lifetime ago. As a survivor of severe childhood emotional, physical and sexual abuse, I have developed CPTSD: Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, which led to very early onset depression and anxiety, the signs of which were appearing as early as preschool.
It was left untreated until my late 20s when I thought I had post natal depression. It turned out that the damage was far deeper than that.
Growing up in a family with emotional and physical abuse as well as abandonment and betrayal, I chose terribly when it came to romantic partners. I sat on the floor at the table of love and would accept any scrap that fell down to me, whether intentionally given to me or not. I always felt unworthy.
I have also found it almost impossible to experience real love and genuine joy as I wait for life's cruelty to sweep the rug out from under me. I love Zak, so much... and I know he loves me too. He has never left me in the dark when it comes to letting me know exactly where I stand or how he feels about me. In the beginning of our relationship, I was constantly waiting for him to hurt me. But he just loved me. Completely and utterly.
The Fall
We were just handed the keys to our new home and had been living here for about three days when I fell. I dislocated my knee, which led to my diagnosis of a hereditary bone deformity called trochlea displacea. It has caused multiple reinjuries and additional injuries, making pain my constant companion.
And there it was. As I entered a dram life, the rug was pulled out from under me. I was eventually retrenched, my unemployment benefit from the government quickly defeated and my insurance company winning the war I launched on them for not covering my disability. Too injured to work but not injured enough to qualify for benefits....
Pain is exhausting. Rest, warmth and medication are how I cope. And I have gotten to the point where I cannot afford my depression medication or pain medication.
I was doing extremely well with the ozempic injections, with a loss of 10kgs in three months. If I has been given the chance to complete a year's course, I would have made it to a weight I have not seen since before I met Matthew's father. Every kilo lost, was a relief on my injuries. My mother was sponsoring these incredibly expensive injections, but has , herself, become permanently incapacitated. She has been forced into retirement, unfortunately about two years too early for her financial plans to be fully in place, but what can you do? She was long overdue for retirement as a nurse... and is now struggling for her own survival on the other side of the world, in England - where, thank GOD, she has earned citizenship: entitling her to a British pension. I worry deeply about her, as she celebrates her 75th birthday this year. I worry about her being alone.
As for my sister, I swing between numbness, to indescribable pain, to grief and anger at the abandonment of our family, but she has always out herself first. Unable to accept responsibility for pain she inflicts. It's who she is. And I've fallen for it one too many times.
I have my music, which brings me great joy. but also makes me sad as I watch people 20 years younger than me take to the stage and outshine me. Did I miss my chance? Is anyone even even listening any more?
I can't help but hear Chester Bennington sing those words:" I tried so hard, and got so far. But in the end, it doesn't even matter." I think I finally understand him.