A simple daily update that transformed into a sensitive story from childhood... in Life as I know it...

So I was bitching about the heat yesterday, but now I have the pleasure of experiencing the closest rival to my most hated weather condition, humidity. The reasons that I despise humidity are simple : 1) : It fools you into thinking that it is a nice cool and cloudy day, until you step outside and feel as if you are in a sauna. 2) : This one is a bit more personal. If you have read any of my previous entries, it will be no surprise for you to hear that I am on a variety of different antidepressants, mood stabilizers and anti -anxiety medications. Each of these medications, although they make my life considerably easier, have a plethora of side-effects. 3 out of 5 have the side-effect of "excess sweating". This is something I am very self-conscious of and I have yet to find a deodorant or antiperspirant that manages to even slightly close the floodgates. This morning I went to the supermarket to buy some groceries and I was pouring sweat and it was clearly visible through my shirt and by the beads of sweat rolling down my temples.

Besides the weather complaints, today has been a pretty good one so far, although very strange. I have just had lunch and it is almost 14:00. I often have these days where I just feel strange, everything seems a bit surreal and unreal. It's like I am permanently experiencing that feeling one gets before being hit with a panic attack. These attacks (I still firmly believe that they are not panic or anxiety attacks) have had an enormous effect on my life, specifically the first decade of it.

The first time I experienced what has been diagnosed as being an anxiety attack, was one evening during my primary school's annual inter-schools sports weekend. This weekend was most definitely my most favourite of the year. It always took place in a small little town about 4 hours drive away from Cape Town called Riversdal. My parents, brother and I stayed on the same farm every year where there were a couple of little houses and cottages you could rent out on the property. I absolutely loved it. The fresh air, the green grass, the lake, the horses, the smells, the little adventures, exploring, the ostriches and especially all the different dogs. My favourite dog I decided to name "Lassie". She was an old golden Labrador that would always come lie down by my feet while I would pet and scratch her. My brother's favourite was an excitable and energetic Doberman whom I was very afraid of, because it would jump up and try to play with you, which would scare the shit out of me. The difference between my favourite dog and my brother's favourite dog is quite an apt way to describe the differences in our personalities. There were a few other dogs, a Dalmatian named "Spot" and a little Jack Russel who's name I can't remember. I liked him as well. I've always liked smaller dogs more than big ones. The big ones are a bit scary (That's what she said :P).

Prior to leaving, we would have the "Big Brag" event at our school on the Friday, after which school would finish at 11:00am and everyone would make their way to Riversdal, some on the school busses and some with their parents. During the Big Brag, all the different rugby and netball teams from each age group would be called up onto the stage and the captain would call out each of our names and name our position and what we do best, after which your popularity in the school would pretty much be judged by the reaction you got. I was, unbeknownst and surprised to me, very popular up until the 4th grade when things started to go downhill. One day I was completely confused when 2 kids came up to me and asked if they could please join my "gang". I didn't know what the fuck they were talking about... I had a gang? The next thing I knew, a large group of kids started following me around and I was apparently their "gang leader" (I'm not talking about that we were playing Bloods or Crips or anything (mind you over here in Cape Town it would probably be 26's vs 27's vs 28's), we didn't even know that shit existed). I don't know who came up with this story, but anyway I rolled with it, until another popular boy decided to create his own gang at which point I said I don't want to do this nonsense anymore. But I digress...

So our team captain would call out all our names and we would do some kind of special war cry or "haka" like the New Zealand rugby team did. We would then take the piss out of the rival scool and leave for Riversdal. The Friday the family would just chill at the farm, the Saturday was the big sports day and then we would leave to go back home on the Sunday. We would usually have a traditional Afrikaner "braai" (barbeque) on the Friday night and then have to wake up super early for the sports day. The younger you were, the earlier you played and we played barefoot. Running around barefoot on icy cold grass wasn't ideal. After your team's game was finished, you would watch the rest of the games, culminating with the under 13's netball and rugby.

After the sport, we would head home for a while, before attending the get together at night. The get together pretty much consisted of the parents having a big braai and watching the national rugby game on a big screen, while the younger kids would play around on the field (and if you were really brave), play spin the bottle (I never dared). Once you were in the 3rd grade, you were allowed to go to the "sokkie". A "sokkie" is pretty much the Afrikaans word for a dance or a disco or whatever. So the first year my friends and I were allowed to go, we got all dressed up and were ready. We all danced together in front of the strobe light, moving our hands around in front of it so that it looked like they were moving in slow motion. About 30 minutes into the dance, something happened that would change my life forever. All of a sudden I just went into complete shock and everything seemed so surreal and unnatural. As if I was in a dream (and not a good one). As if I was underwater... My heart was pounding, I was extremely hot and I stumbled out of the dance hall, nearly falling and tripping several times as I was struggling to walk. I didn't know what the hell was going on, I thought I was going to die. I was so confused, so disorientated, everything seemed so strange and I feared for my life. I managed to stumble into the building where all the parents were and found my parents who were busy eating at the time. I started crying and telling them what happened. My dad got quite pissed off and told me to stop being a nuisance and just dismissed what I said. I begged them to take me home, and eventually my mom obliged. I was crying as I stumbled into the car. One of my favourite songs at the time, Bon Jovi's - It's My Life, was playing and the girl who I had an enormous crush on, Petronel, walked past with her friends and saw me.

My mom took me back home to the farm, I got into bed, covered my head with a pillow and eventually fell asleep. The next morning everything was fine again and I think if I'm not mistaken that when we turned the news on Princess Diana's death was being announced. We packed up, drove back home and life continued, but it was different. These "attacks" started creeping up on me and happened at any place that had any resemblance to the dance. Any place with flashing lights or loud music made me fear for my life. Eventually my mom made an appointment with our family doctor and I tried to explain what was happening. The best explanation my 8/9 year old mind could come up with was "It felt as if I was on a different planet". The family doctor referred me to a neurologist, I think, for some tests. The neurologist, suspecting that it was most likely epilepsy, performed 2 tests, one while I was sleeping and one while I was awake, with those wire and patch thingies stuck on my head and having a flashing light in front of me. There was no evidence of any sort of epilepsy so the neurologist said it might have been a panic attack and referred me to a psychiatrist. The first of many.

Now, I was a very, very anxious child. I was always scared and afraid. My 1st grade teacher used to say to us that if we weren't asleep by 8pm at night, she would see the bags under our eyes the next morning and we would be in trouble. I took this very seriously and panicked and obsessed about it. I always did all my work on time and very neatly presented. I would get so angry if I couldn't get something right or if I made a mistake on my homework. I would be furious and I wasn't the most pleasant kid to be around. At age 6, I came up with this little song "Niemand hou van my nie", Afrikaans for "Nobody likes me", which I would sing while walking up and down the hallway in our home. This was quite a joke to everyone and I can see how it could be perceived that way. I started talking about suicide at age 9. I would tell my mom that I wanted to die and that I wanted to kill myself, but nobody took me seriously. Anyway, the psychiatrist, apart from claiming that these attacks were anxiety attacks, also diagnosed me with general and social anxiety disorder and severe depression, prescribed some medication and referred me to a child psychologist whom I had to see every week. I felt so different from everyone else. My friends were enjoying their carefree life, while I was always stressed, panicked and afraid as well as experiencing these attacks.

The attacks got worse and worse and occurred more often as time went by. It started happening at school, while playing sports and then even at home. I withdrew, I stopped going to friends' houses for play dates and I eventually stopped playing sports and started gaining weight big time due to comfort eating. I became very aggressive at home and was not a happy chap. I also hated going to this child psychologist. He was a really young, effeminate guy who seemed like he was straight out of university. I don't think he knew what to do with me to be honest. My popularity plummeted, my happiness plummeted and I pretty much withdrew and spent my time alone, where as before I was always playing sport or doing something sports related, whether it was kicking a ball in the backyard or playing trying to jump over obstacles and stuff. My best friend since pretty much birth changed schools and we fell out of contact quite quickly and I felt like I had nobody.

Wow, I just got really off topic there. Quite crazy how I ended up talking and thinking about the weather and ended up telling a long story like this. I think that will be it, I'm quite tired now. I'm going to start rolling and folding my puff pastry and get ready to make a couple of different styles of Mille-feuille. I will probably post pictures of them in my other book later this week if anybody wants to take a look.

Thank you for reading and for sticking around through this whole essay. Have a lovely day.

AD