Surviving Loud!!

Trigger warning: Before reading this post, please be aware that it contains references to childhood rape and other experiences of sexual assault.

My story starts way back when I was just 3 years old.
At that tender age no young child should witness a murder, let alone the murder of a parent.
My father was murdered when I was 3 years old, by my eldest sister’s boyfriend. My mother instantly became a widow & single mom of 5. My two older sisters moved out and started their lives and my mom was left to raise 3 of us with no income at all. The guy who murdered my father was only in jail for something like 7 months. Life was tough & my mom had plenty of men in and out of our lives in a space of a year and a half. During this time my mother used to leave me and my sisters alone at home, locking us inside and going out. On more than one occasion we would wake up in a dark house all alone. She finally met a man she was going to marry. My mother and this man got married when I was 5 years old. I don’t like referring to him as my stepfather because of what he’s done to me.

Life was better with my mother being married until her husband one night decided that he likes her daughters more than he likes her. I was repeatedly molested every night from the age of 5 until the age of 9. Some nights more than once. He told me if I ever told anyone he would murder my mother, for a child that already lost one parent to murder, I kept quiet cause I couldn’t lose my mom too. He used to bribe me with money and sweets… I want to stress that safe & responsible adults don’t ask children to keep secrets. When we went away for weekends he used To tell me to walk with him, knowing what he wanted to do. We moved around a lot when I was in primary school, never lived in one place for longer than 4 months at a time. I now understand why….living in one place longer than that will make people suspicious about the abuse & he might get caught.

My anxiety started at a very young age; I always had the fear that my mother would move & leave me at school.
We had strict rules at home, bedtime was at 7 for everyone including my mom. By 8pm I would start counting his footsteps to my room…. 1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9…10…. now he is at my bedside and the nightmare starts.

I was relieved when he finally decided to get a divorce, I thought my nightmare was over. I knew we would struggle again as my mom wasn’t working but at least the abuse would stop. We then moved into a shelter for homeless people and for the first time in 4 years I attended one primary school and only attended one high school. I grew up not knowing what parental love was. I always felt like my mom didn’t love me as much as she did my sisters. I had this broken version of love. In my head I had to sleep with someone in order for them to love me. I am not proud to say, with this brokenness I grew up and had plenty of sexual partners. It took me 22 years before I finally shared what my stepfather did to me, that was when I found out I wasn’t his only victim, he did that to my older & youngest sister too.

While living in the shelter, I started dating a guy who raped me when I was 13 years old, then called it love. After the deed was done he told me “he can see why my stepfather did what he did cause I am a cheap whore. I still for some reason believed he loved me. We were dating on and off for 7 years, in the 7 years he continued to tell me sex was his way of loving me. I was 17 years old when my mother passed away, a day after her birthday. I was an orphan who suddenly had to look after my youngest sister. My boyfriend’s mother said she will help look after us. I got my grade 12 certificate & immediately started working to provide for me and my youngest sister.

My life completely changed the day I met my husband. I worked in Checkers and we met by accident in the store. For the first time in many years I knew what real love was. He loved me unconditionally.

He treated me with so much respect. I moved in with him when I was 20 and I fell pregnant with my daughter. I had my first child when I was 21. We had 3 beautiful children before he passed away of Covid. Our marriage was rocky all because I didn’t know anything about my condition, and I wasn’t diagnosed yet. I was a total monster and would love to get a chance to have been better. A few years after my 2nd child I was at work one day & as I walked passed a family standing in reception I heard a voice, the voice that send chills down my spine & instantly paralysed me….the voice of my stepfather… & there he stood at my work…I was a wreck. I knew I hadn’t dealt with my childhood trauma.

In 2021 I got Covid, then my husband did…. He looked after me and when he got sicker, I did my best to look after him. On the 29th of June I rushed him back to the Dr because he had a SATS level of 80%, he was admitted to Jacaranda Hospital in Pretoria that same day. It broke me to let him go, knowing I would not be able to visit at all due to the strict Covid rules. We spoke over the phone Wednesday Night, the Thursday night when we spoke, I could see he isn’t doing well. He couldn’t speak with all the machines and hand signalled me that he is strong & will fight. Also, that he loves me. It broke my heart to see my strong husband so weak.

The next morning the hospital called to ask if they could ventilate him & I had to consent. That evening when I fell asleep, I had a dream about a school and 2 beautiful gates on the one side was desert and on the other was a waterfall and a beautiful tranquil place. The person at the gate asked me where I wanted to go & I replied I want to go home. They replied, to your left is desert & you will never get home but to your right is route that will lead you home (the tranquil place). I remember as clear as day how I walked to the waterfall in my dream and as the water was falling down I saw the Bible verse from Lamentations 3:32 “Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love.” I woke up at 4am on the 3rd of July 2021 to the ringing of my phone, on the line the nurse that looked after him said he passed away. Right in the corner of my bedroom I fell down on my knees screaming and crying. I was a widow and single mom of 3 at the age of 30.

I found out that my husband never signed his will and cancelled his life policy, so he practically left me with nothing.
My world spiralled out of control after he died. Not only did I have to raise our 3 children by myself I also had to tell my babies their father is never coming home again. My house was a 2-income household and suddenly 1-income was all I had. I was lost and heartbroken for a long time. Then my eldest sister came to live with me, and she helped a lot around the house & with the kids but the downside to this was that she wasn’t working so I had to care for 5 people on my salary and it just wasn’t possible. I always heard people say there is stages of grief, but never knew what they meant. Soon I realized I wasn’t going to church anymore, I stopped going cause the same people who said they are there for me was the first ones to judge.

I made a friend in my complex, and we went out one night & I met a guy, who I thought was my next soulmate… only to find out he is married, and I was the other woman. He avoided me and always had excuses but when his wife wasn’t around, I was everything. I loved him but it really hurt me. One night in Dec he called & said he wanted to talk, like a fool I believed him and went out with him. He came to pick me up and while driving we stopped for cigarettes and as he got back into the car, locked the doors and looked at me while lifting his shirt he said you know I have a gun & I am not afraid to use it. I felt anxious immediately but it was too late to turn back. I tried not to get drunk that night. We met up with other people, I went to the toilet but when I came back my drinking glass was half empty and right before we left the bar a mutual friend grabbed my hand and said call me if there’s trouble. The guy I was with stopped in his tracks and asked what the other guy said & the fool I was told him…he turned to me and said “so you’re both disrespecting me” to which I did not reply. The last thing I remember was us leaving. I woke up naked on his side of the bed with his gun facing me and I couldn’t lift my head from the pillow. He got up without saying a word he made me coffee and gave me headache tablets. I never said I had a headache…because I couldn’t remember anything from the night before, I asked him what happened, and he screamed at me “I didn’t touch you”. He drove me home in silence. I got into the shower at home and then I saw the bruises that covered my back and chest. Hand marks on my arms & legs and there was 2 injection marks on my leg too. My sister wanted to call the police; I begged her not to cause I know what he is capable of. I lived in fear that he would come kill me. After that ordeal I decided to just be a mom, present with me kids, and put the world on hold.
I still tried my best to be a good mother for my children and despite many challenges I stand here & I am proud of how far I’ve come.

On the 20th of June 2023 I came home from work only to find my eldest sister dead on my couch in my home. I was shocked. We had to start arranging her funeral and none of us had the money for that.
It all felt so unreal, some days I drove around and then suddenly realized I don’t know where I was going.
And yet again I was all alone.

After my sister passed away, I really had to learn to be alone. No more adult conversations. That was hard. I started noticing that I constantly felt not good enough, like I’m failing.

One evening in Oct 2023 I had a panic attack, not knowing what it was I thought I was dying, my desperate prayer “Lord don’t take me now”. I woke up thankful to be alive the next morning but I knew something was wrong. My entire left side was numb and I hand pain on my chest. Got to work, I spoke to my boss and he said I have to go see a GP immediately. I went to see a GP and she did all the necessary tests but found nothing wrong except for the fact that I was dragging my left foot & she felt concerned enough to send me to the Emergency Unit at Olivedale Hospital. I got there and they put up a drip, got the heart specialist out & did bloods.

The heart specialist came & did a sonar of my heart, apart from my heart enzymes being slightly elevated he couldn’t see anything wrong but he knew he couldn’t let me leave. Instead, he looked at me and asked, “what is bothering you?” There in the ER I broke down in tears and spilled all that is bothering me, how much I hate my life & that I wanted to die. I was suicidal and depressed. He told the nurse to phone Akeso Crescent Clinic (Psychiatric Hospital) and have me admitted. I didn’t want to go, cause who would look after my children?! My children stayed with my sister while I was in hospital.

The ambulance came and took me to Akeso, where I was evaluated and finally diagnosed with Bipolar mood disorder, Major depression, anxiety disorder & Complex PTSD. A big diagnosis for a single mother of 3. I spent a week in Hospital. I worked closely with my Psychiatrist and Psychologist and when I was discharged, I knew there was no easy fix for this. I will need medicine for the rest of my life & I will need sessions with my psychologist every 3 weeks.

After my mental breakdown I changed a lot of things in my life, starting with what I allow and who I allow in my life.
It has been a journey, but healing is happening every day.

The hardest part of this journey is telling people how to treat me & setting boundaries with the people in my life. Because most people in my life know nothing about my condition I had to break the silence and start surviving loud. I started being honest & vulnerable with everyone in my life & to my surprise they are all very understanding.

Yes I have been through a lot, and yes all those things has contributed to my Bipolar, depression, anxiety & Complex PTSD but I am proud to tell you that there is help & resources out there. Break the silence & start surviving loud.
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Photo credit: Image provided by the storyteller.

Story shared by...

Kiekie

I am a single mother of 3, who has been handed my fair share of LIFE, but I am proud to be sharing my story from a place of forgiveness and healing. I struggle with mental health and have a good dose of issues but I am proud to say there is help.