It’s the last day of 2013. I went to bed last night and woke up today with a sense of happiness and hope. I’m glad we’re leaving behind this year. I am glad that, this time tomorrow, I can say that my life will be changing “this year” – I’ll be traveling, going home and starting a new job surrounded by friends and family. Some days, I want to hide in Korea. Especially lately, when I’ve realized that I’ve put on 10 of the 16 kilos that I’d lost. But, I’d decided to take a head start on 2014, trying to lessen my calorie intake and try beat the food addiction with a stick (fast food!). Granted, it’s attempt 976, but – now is a better time than ever to make some short term goals for myself.
I want to lose 10 kilos before March, 3rd.
I want to successfully finish my postgraduate in Education in 2014.
I want to spend and save money wisely.
I want to stop being so needy, stop being so available to men who usually don’t appreciate it. (I will bend over backwards for someone who might show interest in me – giving and giving and I’m left with nothing, empty.)
I want to obsess less, especially with my phone. Waiting for messages, double checking if said person had read my reply.
Have a tremendous New Years Eve – be safe, take care and I hope we all have a healthier and happier 2014.
Every time I get on that scale, I see a number higher than the last. I am utterly out of control with food and spend most of my time consumed with what my next meal will be, eating and only being to a point where I am satisfied after I’ve eaten copious amounts of fast food at night. I know this has to stop. I know my bad eating has always been linked to other aspects – if I am eating badly, I am sleeping more/less or irregularly, I am more tired, I am more unhappy and thus leading to me drinking more or making bad decisions. I know all of this too well, I spent almost my entire life living that way.
Oddly enough, I don’t feel depressed about it (right now). I saw a picture of a girl who exposed her stomach, admitting that this photo was to all the people that had bullied her in her life for being overweight. Yes, I admit my eating is out of control but I can also admit that there are people of different sizes in the world. I guess in a perfect world, I would be making healthier choices and loving my body, regardless of how it looked.
In two months, i will go home. I feel like I should be making these changes now, so that I can reach a goal by then (10 kg). But, and this is the point I am trying to stress, this isn’t going to be my resolution. I have read all about how the gym will be packed on January, 1st and how people feel hopeful because it’s a brand new start – and that would be correct, in a perfect world. If anything, I’d like to say that I hope 2014 is a happy, prosperous, healthy year for myself and everyone I love. I want to make smart decisions, I want to be happier and I want to take more control over my life.
It’s the end of the year and I found myself thinking about how excited I was for 2014 to begin. But then my pessimism came crawling in and I actually wondered why we put such weight and significance in these kinds of events. It’s the same as going on a diet – “I can’t start on a Tuesday, I have to start on a Monday!” or “Let me start fresh tomorrow morning.” 2013 is a year, but a day is a day. If your life is in shambles now, chances are – it probably still will be in 2014. Nothing magical will happen when that clock strikes 12. I know that sounds oddly negative – yes, you can change your circumstances.
I suppose we use this time to reflect on the past year and feel excited about the things to come in the upcoming one – but in all honesty, 2013 has been a pretty big pile of shit for me.
I thought to myself “I hate that I have to reply to e-mails, I hate that I am asked to do things, I hate that I have to worry about whether I have enough food in my fridge and that I have to go to the shops. I hate that I have to get up and go to work.” I want to go home to my country but lately, I don’t want to go home. And then it just hit me, that I am so sick of living. Am I that sour that I hate having friends? I hate being asked to do things because I am set up in the situation where I have to, again, say no. I hate social situations and if it were up to me, I’d be married and spend all of my time with one person that loves me romantically. Am I that bitter that I don’t care what anyone else thinks besides the opposite sex? And I’ve just given up hope with men as it is. The little optimism I used to carry is now completely depleted. I used to hold onto a thought that someone may want me, but at this stage – I am no longer waiting by the phone for his message that he suddenly wants to have 50 thousand of my babies and I know that the only time I may get is during the week when everyone else is busy. I don’t even care about it anymore. I lost hope in myself, I’ve put on a few kilograms that have shown up in my face and I am embarrassed to see myself and to be seen. I’ve just lost feelings of pleasure and happiness.
Nelson Mandela, Tata, my leader and my inspiration –
You made South Africa a better place. You showed the world what it was like to be completely selfless, to love and to accept. You forever changed South African democracy and instilled a sense of leadership, trust and forgiveness among South Africans. You are my role model. Your selfless acts changed the face of South Africa and I only hope that one day, we can gain that peace that was brought upon by your leadership.
We love you, Tata (Father, in isiXhosa).
Rest in Peace.
I’m lonely and I’ve put myself in the situation where I could and possibly do feel rejected. The smallest things give the biggest blows.
When I am at work, I want to be home. When I am home, I want to be elsewhere. During the week, I want the weekend. When it’s the weekend, I am bored. I act out carelessly and when I realise it, It is Monday and I am exhausted.
I want to talk and I want companionship, but I don’t want a single person to see me. I think I don’t want to be seen. I feel like I have failed myself and my body to the point where I don’t want to be seen.
Back to the point where I know I need to do something but too lazy to do a damn thing. Where does that leave me now? Back to the point where I can lead a mediocre life pretending life is good and I am happy with myself, as was done for 24 years of my life.
For two years, I have wanted home – in three months, I go. And now, what? I don’t really want to go. I can hide here.