When peace gets disturbed

"I think my dad is cheating on my mom", she said. "I think he's cheating on her because he haven't hugged her in ages. He doesn't kiss her, or show any affection towards her. I just feel like drinking pills and cutting. But I guess this is how life is".


My conversation with a friend, after the usual small talk, turned into this. Somehow, we've seen or heard this picture played off so many times that we've become desensitized with it. It has become "how life is". The truth is that that is NOT how life is. Life is hard, yes. Life is full of pain and hurt, yes, but life doesn't have a formula, or a manual to refer back to. You can't look at a situation in life and say, 'but that's what the manual says'. Nothing in life is as it should be. For years things are out of place, and people are fighting, losing their lives to restore the corrupt of this world. We lose things in this life. and things are taken from us. We are kept from what we love. We are kept from peace- the very thing we are to pursue.

At times our peace get disturbed by people close to us. Those who are supposed to protect our peace; to help us keep shelter from the cold love we get sucked into every single day. Right now, at this very moment I know, personally know, of at least 20 people who's feeling like this friend of mine. There's thousands of people tonight whose peace get disrupted because other people make decisions for whatever reasons. I feel your pain. Its okay. Where you are and what you feel, and what you wish was different. Its okay. You're still here and this day will pass and tomorrow has never happened before. Things can still be new. There is room for healing and surprise and even room fro change.

This life is not a race. Its not a contest or a competition. Its a patient broken story breaking more and healing more every day. Sometimes the things that tear us down can lead us to freedom. You remain worth the heavens, regardless of who disturbs your peace. You remain loved, by me, us, and everyone who believe in brokenness and healing.

Peace be to you.

Mornings..

This week has been one of the most emotional times of my life. The funny, and sad part of it is I didn't show it. I didn't know how to deal with my emotions this week. I had all sorts of mixed feelings towards my future; my friends; my journey. My depression got to me more than once, but I got up and gave it a go again. It's funny how we come to believe in anything that makes sense when we're not  comfortable with reality.
This week was my final week of the best four years of my life. I get goosebumps sitting, thinking about it. My life have become so rich with people, and now the time has come to finally say goodbye. It's the saddest thing ever. I want to believe that I'm gonna see all of my friends everyday. I want to believe that a social network won't be the only thing connecting us. I want to believe that I'm gonna walk out of my room, hear the laughter, the small talk, the anger. But I have to realize that its never gonna be like that again, and THAT makes me sad.

This morning I was too scared to get out of bed cos I know there's no one outside in the quad. I'm too scared to face my reality, but I have to. We all have to. We have to face that sometimes we don't have it. Sometimes we need help. Sometimes other people's advice is better than our own. We have to understand that this is not about us alone. To wake up and live means to invite other people into our lives. Every morning, scary as it may be at times, is an opportunity to tell a story. Someone can learn from our stories every morning. That is why I have to get out of bed, hold my head up high and let my friends know that they mean the world to me. We don't know what tomorrow will bring along, but we have today to make right; to forgive; to be loyal; to stand our ground. Another opportunity to look at the scars, at the pain and know that this is NOT the end. Our stories have many more mornings to survive.

PEACE

Control...losing it.

I had an interview on Radio Pulpit this week, discussing the issue of depression and the stigma surrounding it. This is only my second radio interview ever, so it was quite a big thing for me. But what I didn't prepare for was the enormous response I'm receiving ever since. This certainly proves to me, and the whole of South Africa, that things aren't the way it's supposed to be. When a someone sms me to ask for prayer cos she doesn't know for how long she'll be able to resist the urge to rid the world of herself; when a grandparents phone me to send encouraging messages to their grandchild cutting; when a social worker contacts me, seeking help for her depression, something has gone terribly wrong in the society we find ourselves in.

This year so far, 97 teenagers in the Eastern Cape have committed suicide. Something is out of place. It is not good for a society  to force someone to injure themselves on order to fell, or to numb. Communities are supposed to make us feel part, not estrange us. I blame loneliness, depression, cutting, suicide, I blame it on ignorance. I blame it on the fact that people are afraid to talk about things that matters. I blame it on our superficiality. In our search for deepness we have became too shallow. We want to make people believe that its not okay when you are emotionally unstable; when you experience a whole lot of emotions all at once. It is not not acceptable when you don't have it all together. I say "SCREW THAT".

It is okay to fall apart sometimes. It is okay to lose control. It is okay to cry. It's what makes us human. What is NOT okay though is that we sit with our fears and failures by ourselves. We have been buying lies that tells us no one can be trusted. Humanity won't exist without trust. People have pushed us over the edge, but trust is that take us by the hand, pick us up. shakes off the dust, speak hope to our spirits, and allow us to move on again.

I know for a fact in my heart that this movement can and will help thousand of South African believe that hope is alive; that rescue is possible, and that our lives matters, small and simple they may be. One day we will come to know that we were all connected after all....and that's the beauty of it all.

Beginnings & Endings; Endings & Beginnings

It has been a while since I have written anything; not on here; not on my personal blog or as a note on Facebook  What I did do though, was making a video for my school. It was a short poetic version of the four years I've been here, and its sadly drawing to an end. Never have I felt the pressure of endings and beginnings as I do now. Never have I been scared to plunge unto unknown waters, even literally into a shallow swimming pool, but for more on that, visit www.ivorswartz.blogspot.com.

Beginnings, endings or endings, beginnings, whichever way you look at it, they're scary, yet so necessary for our growing and moving forward. Starting a new job; having to leave family and friends for a new town, country; starting all over without him/her; day one without cutting, drugs, AGAIN...its scary, and not so easy as people make it out to be.

So many people try to focus on figuring out what the future holds for them, and subconsciously puts pressure on the ones who like to take life as it comes. Lots of people make you believe your ending and beginning would be as easy as theirs was. "It'll work out fine" is what they always say. You'l feel better tomorrow. I hate those kind of cliches. What if its not better tomorrow? What have you got to say then? Maybe the day after?

I used to be addicted to a lot of stuff: porn, masturbation, mandrax, greed, hatred, and I'm lightly depressed as well. One thing I came to realize with these battles I've faced, is that its NOT going to be okay like everyone says. I never woke up one day and they were all gone. I overcame most of these things but at days, really bad days, i still want to cover my face with a pillow and drown myself, cut off from the cruel world. And when I do build the strength to face the world again, my issues will be right there waiting for me. I had to start over with my battle, counting day one AGAIN. My third or fourth last beginning, because I believed a comforting lie that says, you'll be over it in no time, or its just a phase you're going through.

No one get over pain, just like that. Pain takes time to heal. Wounds take time. Addiction takes time. So does cutting, depression, fear, loneliness. It takes time to be bold and end the thing that's destroying you. It takes time to make a new start. For some, like I said, it comes easily, for others it doesn't. Luckily for me, I'm surrounded by friends that support my every rise and fall, big or small, and I want to encourage those of you who struggle with your issue on your own, to take the time to let people into who you are; take time to have them help you carry the burden; give time for healing to find you. We can never survive alone. We need people. People needs us. Fight for who you want to be. Fight through your"ending". Fight for your "new beginning". Fight, against all odds. Fight against the lies; fight against your enemies; fight against the urge to 'do it again'. Fight till there's nothing left. Time will reveal the healing; the recovery; the rewards.

No matter how deep your hole, keep fighting. It's the only thing that make sense. Keep fighting for the beauty in your story.

The new StayAliveFriend video. we have to celebrate our stories. Join us October 14 and 15 at Hoogeind Manor Pneumatix for living stories and live music...things that matters.

raising stories

I've read an article recently in the news about a 17-year old girl who committed suicide. And every time I hear these stories, I feel like another part of the battle is lost. It doesn't matter if I have known the person or not, I feel like screaming in that person's grave,"I'm sorry you had to do what you did; I'm sorry for being part of 'them'; the ones that judged, and rejected, and bullied you". I feel like promoting a story, sharing hope, is a fantasy. People will always judge; always reject; always bully.

I felt like giving up the last couple of weeks, but I'm better now. I can stare life square in the face and honestly say, I will conquer it. But it isn't always like that. I get days that I just don't wanna get out of bed and face life. And I wonder how this girl must have felt every day. Were there people to support and encourage her? Did anyone ever notice she was going through a tough time. Bullying at school caused her to strap a belt around her neck and give up. I wonder how much someone can take before making that final decision to call it quits. I fear for those tonight who's making that final decision. I fear for myself sometimes.

In South Africa, at least one out of every five teenagers deliberately injure themselves. At least one person commit suicide every hour in South Africa. And the sad thing about this is that no one knows about these things. It never make the front page of the newspaper. People's lives, and their stories are silently forgotten. Their families are left to pick up the pieces. The wounds can stay raw and open for many, many years.

This week we had a few discussions on dreaming differently, and this one guy said something that's haunting me every single night. It goes something like this: "To reach the people no one is reaching, you have to do what no one is doing". With StayAliveFriend we attempt to reach those no one is reaching. The ones who fear. The ones who's been left behind. The ones with the questions. The ones with the razor blades and the fingers in their throats. The silent ones. We are tired of organisations raising millions of rands to "raise awareness" about issues such as suicide, cutting, depression. Raising more awareness is silencing the voices of the masses battling these things. StayAliveFriend wants to reach those no one is reaching in South Africa. We believe in connection, conversations, stories, comfortable and uncomfortable. We believe in networking, social media, creative arts, music. That's our pulpit to preach a story that matters. A story of hope.

We DO get better.

I hate it when life gets to me, when people, and situations, fears, and smiles get to me. I hate it when I feel like I do now. When I feel almost a little less hopeless than yesterday. Yesterday I smiled. Yesterday I had no worries. yesterday I played "crazy-8" and drank wine, laughing my ass off. Today looks a little different. Tonight is different. Tonight life reminded me my fighting is in vain. Tonight I know what 121 million people around the world goes through. I understand a little what could be swimming around in the minds of the 2/3 young people who never seek treatment for this.

Tonight I'm not only feeling for those battling depression. I don't sympathize, nor do I empathize. Tonight I'm there myself. Tonight hangs heavy above me. I feel like giving up. I feel screwed. I feel either way, no matter what you choose, you're still screwed. That feeling sucks. You won't know it until you've been there. 

It's so difficult to walk up to a friend and share the heaviness cos sometimes you don't know where it came from. Sometimes it's easy to point the cause of this, and other times you can't, and tonight I don't know what it is. And this thing forces us to be alone, by ourselves, to feed us guilt, unworthiness, rejection. And many times, we fall for this lie. When we're alone, we're vulnerable, susceptible to all kinds of negativity. Often, we want to hear that negativity. But we don't have to. There IS a way out. We can overcome this. We are stronger than this. We weren't designed for this. We were meant to be more than this. We are more than this. We have to stop feeding ourselves the lie that things will stay this way. It will not. Things DO get better. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow either, but like I said, "its no surprise that just after every winter, flowers begin to blossom, such is our lives.

StayAliveFriends

We are yellow

Have you ever been so happy and over-joyed that you wanna see a million balloons rocketing into space? Maybe it’s your birthday, or wedding, an anniversary, a 1^st place. Balloons are symbolic to fun. It’s symbolic to expressing joy, and goodness, and jolliness. Have you ever seen a balloon at a funeral? Or at a deathbed? You don’t see that.

StayAliveFriend is an attempt to shout back at those stigmas. We are dedicated to present hope and healing, and life, and meaning to your story, because we believe in stories. We exist to stare loneliness and depression, and cutting, and fear, and suicide in the face and tell them they’re no longer welcome in our stories. We have befriended hope.

 We believe that your story deserves to be heard, and appreciated. Your story, broken as it may be, is worthy of a balloon, a yellow one. Your story of pain, cutting, addiction, rejection, it’s yours. And it’s worth listening to because it carries weight, and it needs to be celebrated, with balloons. Your story deserves a standing ovation from a million balloons rocketing into space.

September 9 and 10 is World Suicide Prevention Day and it is marked by yellow, because yellow speaks of hope. Yellow speaks of a second chance. Yellow says we’re all bright lights who sometimes forget to shine. StayAliveFriend will remind everyone of us who have struggled with any of those ugly elephants, and also those who are still battling depression, cutting, addiction, loneliness: YOU ARE YELLOW. YOU ARE BRIGHT AND SHINING. YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

We will be teaming up with a church, Helderbaai Gemeente, in the Strand area in their annual Lentefees weekend. The Friday night will be an evening of music, with Glaskas and Die Seisoen Na Somer. StayAliveFriend will share our story, which is actually your story as well. The Saturday will be a day of fun and games, but it will also be the day where we’ll shout out to a friend, family member, stranger who’s battling depression, suicide, addiction. We will shout out to them with yellow helium-filled balloons, inscribed StayAliveFriend, together with the person’s name whom you’re shouting out to. We will be brave enough to walk around with it for the whole day, remembering our friends, remembering hope, healing, and most of all, remembering our shine. When the sun goes down, and the stars appear, we will release our balloons in memory of........HOPE, because we are all meant to shine

The Spill Canvas

“If you let me catch a ride on your road to recovery you can fall apart on me because I’ll be here as long as it takes; a remedy to steady your midnight shakes. I’ll stay here as long as it takes. As long as it takes to get it right.” 

The Spill Canvas is “one of those bands” for me. They deepened my love and appreciation for music. They changed things for me. And when they announced an “indefinite hiatus” my heart sank. This song is one of their more recent ones but it means so much to me. I first heard this song after finding out my friend had been struggling with addiction. I couldn’t shake the feeling that a lot of people have been exactly where I was in that moment, learning for the first time about a battle someone they loved had been fighting.

The beginning of the song talks about watching someone go through the beginning stages of addiction. ”I was watching when you lost direction and I saw you when the headlights died. You were standing at the edge of a train wreck, twisted up inside.” The beginning stages of addiction often go unnoticed. Sometimes a person starts to act a bit different but the picture doesn’t become clear until later on. For me, I simply saw subtle changes in my friend but didn’t suspect anything major. 

The song goes on to say, “I tried to find you in your pitch black bedroom. I tried to find you in the place you hide, but your body was an empty suitcase, hollow sunken eyes.” After things had become glaringly different, I kept trying to seek them out to find out what was going on. I didn’t know exactly what was going on until they finally told me. Suddenly everything made sense. At first I felt guilty for having been angry and not noticing what was going on, but I made it clear that I would be there, no matter what.

If you have a friend who is struggling with addiction please don’t give up on them. They need you, even if they say they don’t. Be there to listen, offer encouragement and understanding. Provide them with resources to get help. Addiction is a difficult path to walk and someone struggling needs others to walk with them on the journey. 

The Pain is our Teacher

A while ago I posted a blog on http://ivorswartz.blogspot.com/2010/07/people-matters.html about a dear friend of mine who went through a particular rough time in her life. I thank God she's at a much better place. I wrote about how she used to feel worthless, and sometimes still do, and how she used to cut herself to forget her pain.

Through grace, this friend is smiling again; through grace this friend can look pain in the eyes and say,"I've been there, I know that". And I'm proud of this friend. She makes me smile when I look at her. She makes me believe that what StayAliveFriend is doing, means something, and it's worth giving a shot.

Recently, this friend went with a group from our college on a ministry trip to Morreesburg for a couple days, visiting schools and orphanages in the area. She had the opportunity to lead a class discussion with a group of 9th-graders. This is her story:

Nedien and I had to lead a class group-discussion at a grade 9 class. I was very skeptical about it, seeing as though I don't like standing in front of people to talk.
Nedien started to speak to them, but they were very disrespectful towards us and were talking the whole time in between. After she spoke for a while, I felt like I should share my story with them.I told them a short part of my story and what I went through. How I'm struggling with depression and used to cut myself.
Then Nedien did a brave thing and asked if any of them has ever cut themselves. Instead of raising their hands if they did, they pointed to one of their classmates. They started insulting the boy about his problem and how bad it is. My heart broke for him. I wanted to cry because I knew exactly how he felt at that moment. People are sometimes so uncomfortable with their own pain that the only way to hide and deal with it is to make fun of other people's pain.


 The boy just sat there, absorbing every insult thrown at him.


We started to tell them about StayAliveFriend and how it helped me through my dark times. It helps to know that there are people I can talk to about my things.


I later on spoke to a girl sitting in the front row. She said her sister suffers also from depression and cutting, and she drinks a lot. Although her sister is "clean" now, she still doesn't know how to handle the situation, especially now that her sister confessed that she's lesbian. Her family has rejected her.


The evening we had a production in their hall and most of the class we spoke to was there. After the show they came sheepishly up to me, confessing that they also cut themselves and would love to talk about it. I was surprised, as they were the one who made fun of their classmate. One girl in particular came to me and spoke about how her step dad is so violent; that she can't handle it and has no one to share it with, so she start cutting herself and want to stop it.


For the first time I felt like God was truly on the move inside of me. It felt like my pain is serving it's purpose; like I didn't g through all that crap for nothing. God is using it for His purpose.


It felt like The Pain Was My Teacher.

"Get over your shit"..is it THAT simple?

this is in response to a FOOL who thinks pain and scars are "shit to just get over with":

Have you ever noticed how different people become when they went through some sort of difficult stage in their lives? They change completely, which is a good thing. Maybe they've been hurt in a previous relationship but stepped out of it and has found real and true love. Maybe they had to quite their old jobs to become the successful entrepreneur they've always wanted to be. Maybe where the scars of their self-injury were, a beautiful tattoo can be seen.It is a beautiful thing to witness broken people being changed.

Maybe you were rape and molested as a child, but grace has been poured out on you. Thinking what your life could've been like hadn't it been for people who showed you what love looks like when all you've known was pain. People who put up with you; prayed with you; sat with you; people who called you beautiful.

And then life has this funny way of putting people on you path who has gone through the exact things you went through. People who are where you were at couple years back. They are hurting where only you knows cos you've been there. They are crying and you know exactly what it feels like. This is familiar to you. They don't need to show you the scars cos you know where to find it.

But what happens if you have forgotten all that? What happens when you're healed and there's no reason to look back. What happens if grace and compassion doesn't smell as sweet as it used to? What happens if you have forgotten what it smells like?
And the next time someone comes to you who's at the place of your past you tell them to get over their shit? Really? Get over your shit? Is it THAT simple? Moreover, was it THAT simple for you? Did you call it shit?

I hope that at some point you'll understand that we deal with our stuff differently, and we're okay with it. God is okay with it. In fact, He is right there saying,"hey, you're beautiful with your shit. I don't care what they say, your shit is precious, and whenever you're ready, in your time, you and I will work on a way to do away with it for good".

THAT is what grace and compassion looks like.

Broken and Healed

BrokenHearted

For you;For me;For them;For us...

I believe we all want to be part of something. We all want to hear, at some point, that what we think and believe, and feel, matters to others. We want our voices to be heard. We want people to notice and acknowledge our effort; our hard work, or what we meant to them. We want to belong.

StayAlive is creating a  platform for us, them, they, we, everyone to have their stories told and heard. We believe that your voice SHOULD be heard. We believe that what you have on your head, and what you hold in your heart is yours and NO ONE should tell you that it carries no weight, or that it doesn't matter, because it does matter, a lot.

We want to invite anyone with a story of hope, and healing to write it in a poem, a song, a short story, a video, anything, email it to ivor-swartz@live.nl and we'll make it part of our undocumented story nights. We'll  keep it anonymous unless you want your name published.

We all have a story, ad someone out there longs to hear something that connects to theirs.....

StayAliveFriend

I have the privilege of meeting people from all walks of life, on a regular basis. I have met friends in the strangest of places as well. I have met friends in shopping malls, bars, churches, barber shops and even public toilets. I have made friends on a bus to Namibia; I have made friends in a public transport taxi. I have made friends almost everywhere.  Some are weird, special, interesting; some are normal, mediocre, plain. Some drink. I have friends in different parts of the world also. I have friends in America(mostly), the UK, Botswana, Malawi, Switzerland,Holland, and all across South Africa.

I have friends in high places; I have friends in the slums. I have friends who takes me out to fancy dinners and invite me to dinners, and I have friends who send me voice notes as reminders of what I've meant to them. i have friends who judge me, and then those whom I can run to to gossip about the judgmental type. Tonight, under the same sky, I have friends under warm blankets, snuggling up against a loved one, and friends curling up under a piece of card board.

 I love having friends. I think friends are important, after family, of course. I think friends are worth fighting for; friends are worth risking lives for. We have to let friends know how much they matters; how much we value them. I'm sure that a lot of you have a much more diverse group of friends than mine, but I'm also 200% sure that a lot of you have only friends like you. friends you can relate to; friends who understand you; friends that won't embarrass you.

Tonight, I feel for my friends under the bridge. I feel for the ones whom this cold night have to meet alone. I feel for them as raindrops falls like stars fall beside and all over them. I feel for my homeless friends sleeping on the doorstep of the post office in Somerset West. I hope and pray somehow, warmth will meet them in their sleep, and won't leave them till the sun take its proper place.
On behalf of those friends of mine, I appeal to you to help us spread love, wrapped in a blanket, to them. It is possible, and it is true. Love is cold without something to keep you warm. Try sleeping this winter on top of your duvet, with the heater switched off, for only one night, and we'll get a glimpse of what it feels like for my friend, EVERY SINGLE NIGHT.

If you have ANY extra bedding, warm clothing, or anything that can make love practical to my friends this winter, would you please give me a call at0736876069 or you can email me at ivor-swartz@live.nl. Or if you know of companies that would be willing to take part in showing practical love, please let me know. I would really appreciate it.

StayAliveFriend(s)

StayAliveSister

About two weeks ago I posted a blog about this one sister of mine. you can go read the blog at www.ivorswartz.blogspot.com. I was talking about what a draining process it is for her to take care of such a big family all by herself. I was talking about the fact that she's questioning God at this stage in her life, because no matter how hard she's trying to serve Him, nothing good ever comes her way. She believes our family is cursed. Go and read the full blog.

Over the weekend I received an sms from her saying she's done, she's giving up on believing that God can somehow redeem her family from whatever curse they're under. A son went on a crazy rampage, stealing everything of value in their home, sell it for next to nothing, to buy drugs. He's only 18 years old. An eighteen year old causing the very person he was born out from so much grieve to the point where she don't want to exist anymore.

My sister was taken up into a mental institution 4 times already, prior to this morning. Its not because she's crazy, insane or out of her mind. It is because she can't handle the pressure. She can't cope with what's happening in her home. All the years serving God, or trying to, has come down to this. She's depressed, and God doesn't notice it? I bet you'd all disagree with me, and I'm okay with that but that's my question. I have no answers to these questions and I hope i do get answers someday, but for now I need something to give my sister to hold on. Unfortunately I can't use the God-card because in her mind, He failed her. In her mind, nothing that relates to God would be of any comfort to her.

In many instances like hers, religion, or anything that comes with it, is the last thing they want to hear. it is the last thing they wants to be encouraged with. It is in those moments, where God seem to be too out of our reach; when God seems be sitting with earphones, listening to loud gangster-rap music. It is in those moments that people need to hear that if God is not out there for them, we are. We are here to encourage them to StayAlive. We will be the hopeful. We will be their Jesus. We will remind them of the good they are; the worth they have, and the storms they face are not theirs to carry alone.

For the sake of hope, you have to StayAliveFriend. You have to StayAliveSister.