Doing The Hard Stuff Too

In a voice note to someone this morning, I told her something that I didn’t realize that I needed to, not only hear but to embrace – ‘…do not stop praying, as some prayers go before you and actually prepare the aftermath or you for it…’

In my mind, I was referring to how u found myself in a situation after burying Mbu. Nothing could have prepared for it, but I now believe it was my prayers that preceded me and leveled the plain, even though it didn’t seem like it at the time.

Yes, my wife tag expired when Mbu breathed his last – and a widow tag replaced it. My life took a 180 degrees turn and I was just numb and exhausted from watching my husband battle cancer.

I just wanted the world to stop or pause or be silent, but that wasn’t an option, life had to go on. I was just existing and not really living.

I never doubted God though, because I feared I would be so angry at Him, that I wouldn’t find my way back and I had seen enough struggles and challenges to know I need Jesus.

My ‘aftermath’ was pitch black and thick, without even a dot of light. It was like nothing I have ever seen before. All my hope was wiped out by grief. I would be woken up by this pain in my chest and while in the confusion of waking abruptly, I’d remember that it was heartache. My heart didn’t feel like a million pieces – but it felt like fine dust, that just ran through the fingers of who ever tried to console me.

I would go into my parked car in the garage and play worship music and just sob. There was nothing comforting, absolutely nothing. The pain was so intense, that I lost almost 40 kgs and my hair was just falling out. Standing in front of the mirror was torture, I couldn’t recognize, nor connect with the person I was seeing. It was a traumatic experience.

Philippians 4:13 I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

It is until we have no other choice, but to do all things, or anything required necessary in our life’s journey that we can lean on this verse – well, for me any way. Everything I tried to salvage just died or taken, and each time that happened, my heart would break over and, over again. So, I stopped trying and just existed and reminded myself that God surely has a plan, coz I don’t.

5 years later, I made it and still making it. God is indeed faithful.

Continuing To Bet On Myself!

It's a few days to what would have been Mbu's 37th birthday (04 June). Just thinking about the age 37, I get goosebumps because it's still surreal how young my Mbu was when he died. Nevertheless, I have made great strides in my healing journey and I am finally gracefully living with his absence.

 

I have learned to listen to my hurt and not invalidate it. Yes, I still hurt, and I'll probably keep experiencing it until the day I die – but it’s important that I tell you that it no longer runs my life.

 

Most of my days are filled with so much life, in every aspect of the word. I'm in awe of how much I've made progress in my own personal space. I've had 3 different jobs in the past 4 years and my current one being everything I prayed for. My health is greater than ever. My relationships are fulfilling, especially in the sphere of conflict management and resolution, and acceptance for others and their unique differences.

 True companionship is one of the things I miss most about Mbu. Its unquestionable depth of honesty and validation. Yes, validation; in its healthiest form. I mattered, my whole existence mattered and that's not something one finds easily – I have to build on that, but not everyone we meet has the capabilities and capacity to build such; but I hopeful that one day I will have that again.

 I'm truly grateful for my growth as far as my acceptance goes, being able to accept that people are made different. It doesn't make them bad people; it just makes them not for you. I say this because I have tried dating (still trying) and I have had to continuously keep a radar on my ideal companionship, because loneliness can make one easily relinquish their true self-worth for a fleeting companionship that has no true value.

 

With rebuilding, I've also learned the importance of harboring peace. Keeping it within myself, and diligently so. It's in the chaos of everything falling apart that I've found solace in peace. My strongest strengths come from my strong will and strong mind; and the more I invested on making peace my space for decision making, I found I had less regret.

 

And it is from my peace, that I've made the decision to enter into a self-care week. I'm not falling apart but I'm putting extra caution on my well-being, especially mentally; to make sure that all that I invested on myself isn't in vain. I call this ‘betting on yourself’ because you know yourself more than anyone, or at least you should!!

Sauté - Eat To Live

As part of the ‘living’ journey, I have made a few changes – one being my diet. For years I’ve watched my friends try out new diets and eating habits, while I shoved a moist double chocolate cupcake in my mouth. It’s not that I don’t care, but rather that I didn’t have the mental capacity to invest in such a change, especially because food was one of my comforts and I wasn’t ready to let go of it.

We take for granted how everything is connected to everything. As much as I could see my weight loading, I knew my need for food was deeper than what people saw. I was no widowed, with no confidant (Mbu) and going through the worst possible time in my life – food was solace. I ate so much that I doubt the taste mattered, but rather how much I could consume was the goal.

Behind the scenes (this is usually my subconscious) I had permitted myself to indulge in food, only as part of the ‘surviving’ journey. It’s weird how I am such a strategist, even about food – but I guess that’s the mind of a fighter.

Now that I’ve ‘survived’, I am implementing the decisions I made, which is to eat clean. And guess what, my mind is fully behind me and cheering me on.

 

What I always tell every young widow I meet is – “… you have limited mental capacity, choose your battles well. Survival isn’t about being loud or visible, it’s about using every resource sparingly until you get to your victory. You can’t possibly behave as someone who hasn’t experience the trauma you have, trauma kills.”

what I have discovered is how I’ve missed the authentic taste of every ingredient on my plate. Before it was just about consumption, but now it’s all about exploring and appreciating how the coming together of these ingredients make my plate so beautiful to savor. The other day I had sautéed baby tomatoes as part of my breakfast dish and what a love affair it was on my taste buds. I’ve missed this.

 

Something so simple, yet so hard; all depending on one’s mental state.

 

Ever since Mbu’s passing in Jan 2017, I haven’t done much cooking. The sight of the kitchen tortured my soul. He loved my cooking and for the last twelve months of our marriage we ate almost every meal together. He’d come in from work for lunch and we’d have lunch together. In the evenings he’d walk into the house and go straight to the pots, take off the lid and let the aroma of the food fill his face. So as you can imagine, I wasn’t going to get that kind of appreciation from him anymore – hence I say, one thing is connected to another.

Being able to see this diet change through is a win for me. Proof that when you make up your mind, you can achieve it. Very important to note, making up your mind doesn’t have to be loud. You just make sure you keep the promises you make to yourself.

 

Yours in healing.

Fortunate Zungu-Ludaka

To A Newly Surviving Widow.

Then Mbu passes and my reign as his queen comes to an unexpected and harsh end. The reality stares me in the eyes. I am thinking of the best possible new norm to create and adapt to. In my mind and bank account I know things have got to change, drastically. Now I have got to make every cent count.

That used to be Mbu's responsibility. He made the money and managed it. Whether his salary came a day late or came in half, he'd always make a plan; and I truly enjoyed this. Having to rely on a man like that was a dream come true for me, more like an answered prayer. Most of my life I've had to survive. I started working at 16 so I can be able to go to school without worrying about transport money or textbooks. So for once in my life I could relay the responsibility of being responsible and it felt good to my soul until the very end.

The end however came unannounced; well, it was announced only a month before it came. Not much time to do much planning when faced with the news of your spouse's diminishing life expectancy. The focus was the prognosis of Mbu's cancer than what I'd do when he died. The only thought that came to mind was the assurance that God will see me through. It was all too overwhelming to process. 

Then that fateful dawn he left us and immediately the comfort of him figuring things out left with him. I remember reaching for my cellphone to give him a call about where they should take his body after his final breath. Yup, yet he was laying there breathless and I still hadn't fathomed the reality of his departure. 

 

In time, well a day after his burial, I set out to make life as easily transitioning as possible. The first was the reality of living without the multiple grands of Rands each month. We lived as simple as possible but there was the opportunity of luxury. One of them was being able to buy any type of toiletries I wanted. I didn't have to really check the price, that was Mbu's job in our marriage. He had a set maximum spending on each department of the household and well, toiletries were my favorite because his needs were always simple in that department. He however towed the line when it came to my income. Even though he earned almost 8 times more than what I earned, he still expected me to have some sort of responsibility. Even if it was buying onions.

When we moved to the Northern Cape that responsibility fell away. I was a flourishing housewife. And because of my independent nature, I started a business selling Brazilian weaves. It did great and Mbu was my biggest cheerleader, but I put the business aside the minute I learnt that my husband was dying. So yes, that stream of income would have helped but I wasn't in the right frame of mind to pursue it any further. 

What people don't know about dealing with a loved someone's life threatening diagnosis is that you begin to grieve for them before they even pass. I guess for that month, from getting his diagnosis to the day of his death I was grieving, and I didn't even know it at the time.

One of my chosen means of coping was bringing my expenses into reality. A skill I've sharpened to this very day is bargain shopping. Yes, almost every item of clothing I've bought since 2017 was discounted. The other few were items I bought because of necessity, so I couldn't wait for them to be put on sale. Another was buying my toiletries in bulk. Listen, I woke up one day and my kids were semi adults and using more and more items for grooming – so buying in bulk meant I could spend a chuck of money on toiletries one month and they would last for three months at least. In that gap, I could patch-up something else, like a new pair of shoes or an overdue family date to name a few.

Yes, we didn't cancel family dates. These are still very ideal for our healthy functioning as a family, but we've made them less expensive. Before we would spend a grand easily without thinking twice, but now even R300 is enough. The focus is spending uninterrupted family time. Then there are other days when we can afford to sit at a restaurant where a waiter serves us versus buying at the counter. This habit was instilled by Mbu. He loved being out of the house and it's one of those traditions the kids and I vowed to keep. And it's been beneficial, we're still close neat as before and is something we appreciate.

Which brings me to the gist of this piece. Building new ways of living after losing a loved one isn't easy, but it's possible.

It starts with acceptance, I suppose. Accepting really doesn't mean you are happy with it; it means you acknowledge it and that makes building anew a possibility. Analyzing the facts is important. Being oblivious to new responsibilities doesn't take them away, it just stalls them – so the sooner you start, the better. Have an end-goal in mind. My end-goal was to live within my means. I didn't want to be the widow that was famous for asking for donations. I only permitted myself to do so only if it was an urgent matter and I've exhausted all of my resources. So that happened very sparingly.

Another goal was to treat myself to proper good living. One way I did this was by working on my friendships. Moral support is vital and my previously formed sisterhoods proved to be a great source of support, therefore I needed to work on them a bit more. This proved to be a great decision because my friends have and continue to be my support system, tagging me along on long road trips that afforded my mind a change of scenery every now and then. Also, I focused on solo dates. At first these were the hardest. Sitting alone at a restaurant watching couples fiddle with each other. I suppose that's what my mind was familiar with. There was a time I was part of a couple, sharing meals, teasing each other at those restaurants; but now I was learning the beauty of solitude. It took a lot of practice, but I think I've got the hang of it now.

 

No matter how scary building afresh is, it's possible. Define the new life you want and start building towards it.

 

Yours in healing.

Fortunate Zungu-Ludaka

“…Teach Me How To Grieve Without Breaking.”

 

I read a post that said “…teach me how to grieve without breaking.”

This sparked an intimate conversation between me and a friend. It was perhaps my response that initiated the conversation. I responded by saying “ask me how.”

Four years ago I shared the very sentiments. I knew I was hit; and quite badly even. I was so afraid to even admit it because I feared the admission of trauma will lead to a cascade of unruly emotions – emotions I wasn’t sure I had the capacity to even hold within me.

A close of mine likes to say winners start with the end in mind. Although this is very philosophical and somehow very motivating, it isn’t as easy put into practice. I know this because it’s how I’ve approached most of my life’s challenges. So let me try to unpack it. just a disclaimer – this is how I personally worked through grief. What worked for me, might not necessarily work for the next person.

The first, probably biggest mistake I did after burying my husband was to give myself a time frame for my healing. Although this is usually how we approach most goals, I’d soon discover it isn’t exactly the same way to approach the grief of a spouse. For one reason, everything was tied up in his name of memory. So it wasn’t a matter of putting his memory in a box and never opening it again. There were legal, financial (just to name a few) matters that did not allow me the luxury of dealing with just grief – so thinking I was going to be done grieving within six months was farfetched.

Although I could have pushed for the six months goal, I soon realized I wasn’t functioning at my full capacity. For those who don’t know, grief doesn’t just affect one’s mental state, but their physical state too. I was fatigued, I battled with sleep, my hair was literally falling off. I understood that pushing for this goal was not only unrealistic but also very dangerous to my health. There were days I’d avoid the pain of grief by masking it with sleep or shifting the focus onto urgent matters that needed my attention. But when quiet moments came – I’d find it waiting for me. It’d creep up from my subconscious and place me in a memory I couldn’t ignore and the paid with just hit like a wrecking ball. In that moment I’d have nowhere to run to, no distraction to appease it with. I’d be forced to weep and the more I wept, the more gruesome the pain felt. The pain felt like a punishment at that moment – as to say ‘why are you ignoring me?!’

This meant that I had to revisit my ‘grieving plan’ and accept that maybe allowing certain parts of me to break was meant to be part of the healing process. Here I was about to surrender to vulnerability. I knew for sure that this kind of grief was like nothing I’ve ever faced before – I earnestly hoped I would come out on top as I did with the others before. But with my past traumas, I’ve seldom had to be vulnerable. I used to view vulnerability as a breaking point, a point of no return and as something to be feared; but soon learned that’s how you allow the pain the chance to heal. I started giving the pain permission to be. I accepted its validity. I’d sit in meditation with my pain, and I’d just speak to it and say.

 ‘…I feel you. You have reason for existence. I’m not shutting you down nor am I saying you’re not valid – but I am saying today, at this moment I am going to accept you. I am going to give you today, these 24hours to let you be. Tomorrow, when I wake-up I want you to be sitting somewhere quietly. I still need to function in other spheres of my life because I’ve got rebuilding to do and I promise to give you space and attention again soon’

As weird as that might sound to others, it worked for me. Of course, it’s not the only thing I did to heal – there are other things I did as well, but since we’re talking about breaking; I find this ideal to share. It’s very important to understand the power of the subconscious mind and the use of psychotherapy. That’s where the epidemy of your healing lies. As I mentioned to a friend, "you have to understand the pain/trauma and know what exactly it’s bringing out of you; so you know what to deal with.

Is it bringing out anger, resentment, regret? If you understand that, then there’s a chance your grief will bring out better version of you, because you’ll  begin to work on those parts of you.

 

Yours in healing.

Fortunate Zungu-Ludaka.

Chapter 1 of 12: Unlearning To Learn Anew

For the past couple of days, I've been thinking and speaking a lot about self development; especially because it's a new year and it's such a great time to invest in a new "me".

My biggest goal has been to transition from healing/surviving to living fully; and with good reason because a lot of new good things have been happening in my life. From new roles/appointments, new relationships and new circles of networking, which means reaching a greater audience but also new mentees. Yet I can't help but feel as though I'm half-embracing them, because I'm yet to experience that mental shift I'm yearning for. 

Which could possibly be because I've been anxiety prone, the absence of anxiety leaves me feeling like I'm on bad ground. Yes, anxiety has for the longest time been an indicator of confidence. Weird, I know.

It's no secret that when we're faced with trauma, we develop survival traits and they are incredibly ideal; but how often do we stop to evaluate their necessity in our current seasons, especially seasons of breakthrough? 

For almost all my life, I've struggled with one trauma or another. I'm now in my mid 30s and don't know much about life except to survive.

Do I need to survive in the season I'm in? The answer is no. I'm filled with so much peace than I've ever been in my entire life, yet the thought if letting my gaurd down sends panic alarms and I'm left feeling conflicted. 

My relationship with God is also currently the best than its ever been, yet I feel like I'm not quite there yet, at a space where I embrace the season I'm in fully. Until I realised that the same way I learned the survival traits, I need to learn the "living" traits just the same. So there's some unlearning to do and new learning also. Life is basically a process of deliberate decisions, coupled with action. Although this is sometimes very exhausting, but because of the betterment and quality of life we hope to live, we do it. 

This is why this year is dedicated to self development. I'm a firm believer in the importance of psychotherapy, in order to put in the necessary efforts in order to achieve the desired results. 

So here's to living. Here's to self improvement and self-care. May we live out our wildest dreams with anxiety free hearts and sound minds. 

Happy New Year 🎊🎉

"Would You Date Someone With HIV?"

One the many good things that have come with widowhood is the exposure to a great vast of knowledge, if not a change in one’s thought processing.

Today I had a brief conversation with a single friend on dating a man living with HIV. I had read a woman’s comment on a post put up by a well-loved female comedian earlier today. The question asked by the comedian was “Why are you single?”

I was drawn to it because I am single and my single friend and I love to poke jokes at our status; so I was expecting to read some humorous comments, because that’s what social media tends to do, especially on such topics.

To my dismay I read a very deep mood altering comment. Immediately I felt a sense of reality hitting me. Finding a person that is ideal to your status (financially, physically, psychologically etc.) isn’t at all that easy.

“…I will not date someone I have to hide my from and end up compromising my health just to please him…where can we find real men who understand that HIV is not a death sentence…” the comment said. I took a screenshot and shared it with my single friend.

She asked me “Would you date someone with HIV?” This is a question I’ve thought of before but only shared my thoughts with just one friend. I replied “Yes, I would.”

I have a few very close people in my life, whom I love dearly who are living with HIV. From them I have learned to deal with my stigma and fears regarding HIV, but I will admit there’s still more to learn if I am to be in a relationship with someone living with HIV.

When someone you love becomes diagnosed with HIV, it almost forces you to evaluate your beliefs and attitude about it. I met someone years ago who would become my dearest love. I was not entirely shocked at their disclosure and I’ll tell you why. When you look at the numbers regarding the infection rate, it’s a given that the person in front of you might be living with HIV. Their openness about their status allowed me the opportunity to get educated on it.

Firstly. I have learned that they don’t bear the ‘I’m living with HIV’ emblem, we tend to think those living with HIV are skinny, gaunt and almost dead. That’s what most people still think unfortunately, even with the great progress made in terms of education on it; but then again, there isn’t much compelling one to learn more on HIV when they haven’t been expose to it – both directly and indirectly, so maybe that’s why there’s still ignorance.

Secondly, they are healthy and are very invested in their well-being, in every sense of the word. This was particularly encouraging for me because I have learned to love them, so their well-being was now important to me.

Thirdly and probably most importantly, they are educated on the subject and educated me on it too. So I am not as frightened of the virus as I was before learning more about it. One of the things I have learned is the importance of monitoring one’s viral load.

So why am I tackling such a deep subject?

Because it’s a reality for someone out there and as one of the people who are constantly talking to a huge following, I felt it’s only appropriate to address those who fall into this particular category.

What I have mentioned in this post is my personal view. The people in my life who are living with HIV are worthy of a good relation just as someone who isn’t HIV positive. When the person I care about comes to me and says “…things ended when I disclosed my HIV status…” seeing their devastation, which normally leads to depression is a wake-up call. A call to accept everyone as the same, because that’s what I wish the person who was dating my ‘loved one’ would have done. To take a chance on them, learn about HIV and play a supportive role in their lives; but I can’t expect someone to do what I myself wouldn’t do. This calls me out – so to speak, I have to do better and be better.

When I married my late husband, I thought we’d live together until we’re old and grey, but life happened otherwise. So I am here, having to think about the possibility of the future. A future I am still trying to figure out; so there’s a huge sense of humility there. Scenarios that were far from my mind have now become a possibility and the comfort of sitting in my warm beautiful marriage looking out at the world with judgement and contempt is no longer there.

Life has personally taught me that there’s never a never. Just like I never thought I’d be a young widow, but life happened and here we are; so this includes dating and marrying a man living with HIV.

I hope this has been a good read and importantly I hope it has provoked you to look differently at HIV and get educated on it, because the very person next to you, possibly your loved one could be living with HIV and is unable to disclose their status due to fear of being stigmatised.

Yours in healing.

Fortunate Zungu-Ludaka.