Death and his friends.

In less than a month I had to hear from three of my close friends that someone close to them had passed away. Three times in less than a month I had to come up with words that could offer hope and understanding in situations that will never be clear to anyone, but would still be painful to everyone. Both life and death is ironic.

Death has no respect for the living. The fucker shows up without an invitation; barging though our backdoors while we try to enjoy every slice of toasted brown bread to stay healthy. I guess sometimes his presence serves as reminders that we have only so much time to do the things we love and take enough photos with the ones we love but I still hate the cowardice son of a bitch. No one gave him any right to step into my friends’ lives; mess up their rooms and leave their floors scattered with wet tissues- confetti of his after party.

I have lost my parents at an early age. I was three when my father passed away; 21 and in prison when my mother died. I have no recollections of my dad and my mother left two brothers and two sisters with a house and no will. I can’t remember crying when my dad passed away and I remember I didn’t shed a single tear for my mother. I wasn’t even allowed to attend her funeral. I have lost all respect for death and every friend he brings along: chaos, fear, pain, confusion, remorse. I don’t shake hands with them and I certainly don’t eat with them after the funeral.

What makes it okay for people to say that no parent should outlive their children? Where does this come from; as if it is supposed to be okay for parents to die before their children? I don’t get it. The Bible says a wise person think about death a lot while the fool thinks about only having a good time now. Isn’t that called living? To laugh, have fun, and seek eternity in each moment?

I find myself to be awkwardly, and extremely superficial at funerals. I feel like Hitler who would, by some miracle chance, stand in front of the Jewish community and show true remorse for the evil he had done to them. Truth is, at all the funerals I’ve been to, whenever I find myself circling through the perfect clichés, hoping this time I would mean it, I walk away hating myself for it a little bit more than the previous time. Every time I’m at a funeral the barbarian in me wants to scream, “Death is assured but it’s not ultimate”. We’re all going to die. In the flesh, no one makes it out alive.  Not that anyone would care because no one prepares for it, except with funeral plans and Sanlam policies.

Our stories are precious and sacred. It doesn’t matter how bad a person has lived their story, the value of it can never be decreased. Also, to have lived a long life doesn’t mean necessarily you have lived a full life.

Last night a young 16-year old boy’s story was cut short. The last words he spoke to his mother was, “I’ll be back”...so painful yet so profound. Pain always has beauty locked up somewhere inside of it every time, if we choose to search for it.

 We shall return, all of us. In the new, in Christ we shall be back. In Christ we shall be renewed and return without the hatred towards death because only through death will we appreciate the resurrection.

And the resurrection is always a beautiful thing.

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.