Source: Ready, set, Go!
Come one, come all! Anyone seeking new friendships, step right this way!
Shew, that sounds desperate! But how the heck does one make friends these days? I used to be the type that made friends everywhere I go. For everything I did I had a group of friends to do it with. Some were shallow, ‘good time friends’, others were deep, ‘talk about my problems all night long’ friends, while still others ‘sit on my couch and do nothing’ friends. I had friends that I could call when in need or call when I’m friends. Friends that lived in other countries and our friendship was based on long email conversations. Then I had/have the circle of friends who where there when I through all my mile stones.
At every job I had or every party I went to I’d make at least one new friends. Somehow, over the years that’s stopped. Obviously I’m the one who changed, but how and why? Is it because I’m older? Have no time? No energy? Am I lazy? Or maybe I don’t meet enough people to make friends.
And I really do have a very good friendship circle, should I just be happy with them? My woes sound very insignificant compared to other things going on this world but to me it signifies a change in my life that I don’t like and can’t control.
The ability to meet new people and make new friends has been one that I’ve enjoyed. It’s part of my personality, it’s who I am. If I’m not that anymore, what else about me has changed without me being aware of it. Oh, and just for the record, I’m totally unaware of anything, self or not.
Anyway, I like connecting with people and it’s been so long since I’ve made a connection with someone that I feel like something is missing.
I’ve sat staring at my PC screen for a few minutes now, wondering how to start this post. It’s something that I need to write about, a subject that actually pushed me back into blogging as a form of release. But this subject is not easily written about. Partly because it’s such a bit unknown, but mostly because I think I’m in denial.
A few weeks ago my sister contacted our family priest to do a reading for her husband. For those of you who don’t know, in the Hindu religion/culture, we go to our priests to do a reading on our lives. The details involve our names, date of birth, etc. and the priest assists in giving us some direction or pointers. It’s not an exact science and free will goes along way in changing the outcome of one’s future. But if we’re going through a difficult time then it helps to get some guidance.
Our priest is in India even though we stay is South Africa and contacting him is a bit difficult. We usually correspond via email. Imagine our surprise when he phone my sister saying that he needed to speak to her? While doing a reading for my sister he picked up on something about my father and then proceeded to do a reading for him.
The news that he had to pass on was not very good. My father’s health has been on the decline for very many years. He’s an alcoholic and diabetic and is on to many chronic meds to even mention. He’s lost a lot of weight in recent years and doesn’t consume enough food to sustain his body. We’ve known this for a while but there’s nothing that we can do to change it. We’ve tried everything to get him to change his habits, begging, pleading, threatening, emotional blackmail, manipulation even, but nothing seems to help. He’s aware of his condition and the consequences of his actions but he doesn’t seem to want to live a better or healthier life.
A few weeks ago he fell in the shower and his health took a sudden, very sharp, decline. He was throwing up and falling down all the time. He couldn’t sleep and his body started to ache. It got so bad that my mum had to take him to the loo and help him bath. She even has to turn him over at night because he has no strength to turn. He has lost so much of weight that he’s staring to get bed sores even though he’s not bed ridden.
It was around this time that the priest called us. To sum it up, my dad doesn’t have very long to live. His health will continue to decline until his organs can’t sustain his body anymore and they will start failing. The priest knows us very well and particularly likes my father. He says he is telling us this so that we can make the best of the time that we have with him and make sure that we are at peace with him before he dies.
We took him to the hospital in the hopes that they can help him. He wasn’t even admitted. According to the doctors there’s nothing they can do. He just doesn’t take in enough calories to sustain his organs so they are starting to fail. Just like that. Do no pass begin, do not collect R200. The doctors have given him a few months at most.
Now, how does one go about one’s life with the knowledge that their parent is, at this present moment, dying? At first we were all frantic, rushing to my parents house whenever we could, we stopped all social activities and would spend all our time there. My heart would pound every time I’d seem my mum calling me, thinking that she’s calling to say my dad is in trouble. Every morning I’d come to work feeling sick because I should actually spending time with my father. When ever I look at my son I’d think of the fact that he’ll never remember his grandfather. That my father will never see him ride a bike or go to school or drill him about his first girlfriend. He’ll never see any other children I might have. He’s going to miss so much. I began living like he had already died.
Then one day someone told me something that made me swing to the exact opposite side of the spectrum. The words were ‘knowing someone is going to die and experiencing the pain of the actually dying are two vastly different feelings.’ And I thought about how I was feeling and I realised that truer words were never said. My pendulum swung back almost immediately because how can he possibly die now? For all the reasons above he should live a much longer life. He’s only 66 after all. He started walking again using a walker and he hasn’t fallen in weeks. His health could be taking a turn for the better, right?
With those thoughts came some sort of relief. I stopped anticipating the worst, no longer worrying if every time I see him, will it be the last? No longer torturing myself in the those quiet minutes before sleep takes a hold, imagining his funeral, how he’ll look, how my mom will deal, what I’d do so that my son is ok. No longer worried at all. Am I in denial? Maybe. But HOW ELSE DO I DEAL?
I feel like I should’ve been born with Super Powers. Seriously. Something cool like shooting lasers out of my eyes while simultaneously causing my opponent to suddenly have the urge to pee like he’s pregnant. Or the power to turn my PMS on to someone else with just a squint of my eyes. Or even better, I should be able to think about making supper and all of a sudden a ready made family meal appears on the table. At the very least I should be able lose any extra pounds with the swish of my hands…
I’m each of us has heard the words ‘passion’ or ‘passionate’ being thrown about both in the personal space and work space. In my case I’m thinking of the work space. I was recently told that until I find what out what I’m passionate about I won’t really be happy in my job. I know that’s true of course and some people are lucky to have that but how did they find out what they were actually passionate about? Or are they lying to themselves?
I actually think that I have the potential to be passionate about a lot of things, I just haven’t found out what that is yet. I do know what I don’t like, finance, numbers, accounting, you get the idea. And lo and behold, here I am, working for one of the biggest auditing firms in the world. What am I doing here I often ask myself. I’m here to earn a salary, that’s the end of it.
I actually don’t particularly like it. I love my team, the people that I work with keep me here but I don’t like the industry or what I do. Mind you, I’m an Executive Assistant, so I at least have some variety in my work day but that’s about it. I could do this job in any industry.
But do I really want to be doing the same thing 10 years from now? We PA’s and EA’s have no respect from our colleagues. They think we’re stupid or have no ambition. They think that they can do our jobs with their eyes closed. It’s not a good work environment let me tell you. We pretend that it doesn’t matter and that we don’t care but we actually really do. Our job dictates that we don’t allow that type of stuff to bother us.
So how do I find this job that I’m going to ‘passionate’ about? And once I do find it, what guarantee do I have that I’ll actually get the job? Maybe it’s just easier to roll over, makes ends meet and accept the fact that some of us are not destined to change the world.
The reason I’m having these musings is because I went for an interview this morning. Same position that I’m in now, less work, more money and not in the accounting or financial industry. It is in an industry in which I think I could enjoy. I’m all about people and this is definitely that type of company. Dare I try and grow out of my role into something else? Or do I safe in my position and just moving companies? I’m getting too old to pander to people’s tantrums and that’s basically what I do for 50% of my day.
On one hand I’m hoping to get this job just to test out my theory. On the other hand I’m hoping that I don’t so that I can stay in my safe zone. What the hell is wrong with me? I really want to ‘settle down’ and find my passion but am I sabotaging myself? And if I am, how do I stop?
This blog probably reads as very confusing because I’ve written as the thoughts came to me. I actually don’t know what to think now that I think about it. Sigh….
I just read some of my previous posts and I’m quite shocked at what I wrote. Turns out I’m not as boring and I think I am. Or Was. Or is? I dunno, but reading what was happening to be a year ago was highly entertaining. Feels like I’ve changed so much but I’m pleasantly surprised. I’m a good writer. What happened to me?
That’s a question I ask myself often. Is it age? Being a wife? Being a mother? Work? Or all of those things together that have made me so serious and boring? I used to have so much of fun. Now there’s not time or money for fun it seems. I need to somehow lock onto the Ricari of the past and try and channel her energy.
The past Ricari didn’t just tumble into bed exhausted every evening. No way, she put on some music and jived while cooking a good meal. She invited friends over for wine on a Tuesday. She spent an hour crawling on the floor with her son. She shaved and put on lingerie. She blow dryed her hair and maintained her highlights. She wore heels and silk blouses to work. She sexted her husband. She drank cocktails with her bestie. She played cricket with her nephew. She went on bike rides with her nieces. She had fun damnit!
What’s happened to me? I’m boring and old! And I’m only 31. I need to catch a wake up.
I’ve been out of the blogging game for a very long time, to my detriment it seems. I always forgot how much putting my thoughts into the written word helps me sort through what I’m feeling. Isn’t it strange how, as soon as one feels better, they forget about what helped them feel good in the first place?
I’ve been dealing with so much recently, my emotional state has been like a yo yo and it’s starting to take it’s toll on me. I feel like I’m fractured, coming apart and I think going (or coming back I should say rather) back to writing will make the difference. I hope some one out there will have something to say or some advice for all the little problems I feel. I’m always up for Constructive Criticism :)
I’ve lost touch with a lot of my friends on here, so if I don’t read anything that you guys have written please don’t judge me :) It’ll take me forever to catch up so I’ll just start fresh.
Just blabbing these few words have already made me feel better, more productive. And still I’m surprised. When will I ever learn??