My Truth:

My truth:

Well halo there everybody.
I’m Known as muso on the forum.
I’ve successfully made 20 trips around the sun, which would make me 20 years of age.
But truthfully, im only a 9 year old boy who stopped to live.

So this is what happened to me:

As a child I was a very adventures boy. I would go out and play in the garden, work in the garden with my mother and went to the beach a lot. With my friends we would explore on the beach and played a lot.
My mother was a pianist. She would play the piano and I enjoyed listening to her.
Thats were my passion for music started, my mother showed me the basics and from there I was hooked. I started piano lessons and it was really fun.

My father was a happy person who enjoyed diving and playing golf and smiled alot. He showed me the ways of the golf which was fun for me. He also used to bodyboard and he taught me how to. This I enjoyed A LOT!!!
The ocean, how the waves would take you for a ride, the feel of the water as a wave crashes you down.
I always felt good after swimming in the ocean.

I would lie down on my back at nights on the veranda and look at the stars, looking for shooting stars.

I have 2 sisters, one 2 years older and the other 2 years younger than me.
My younger sister is very creative, not smart in the sense of maths and technical stuff, but very creative with a unique innocence in her. We used to fight a lot (lol). My older sister was pretty ‘’normal’’, we never really fought. We used to get jealous of my younger sister cause she got a lot of attention. She was very cute with dimples.
We were all Christians and regular church goers.
My father was in the church community and worked at a PowerStation.
My mother was a teacher for troubled kids.

My mother was the one who came to our sporting days at school, came to parent meetings; made herself useful by cooking thins for school activities.
She had a soft voice which was very caring, but if we got in trouble her voice was very scary and sharp.
My mother was the one who would spank us, my father couldn’t get himself to to it.
This one time I did something, I was sitting under my parents bed with a lighter and was burning holes in it. It was so fascinating to see the plastic burn, it would melt and the hole gets bigger so fast. I didn’t burn down the house or anything, but I di make 3 small holes in the bed.
My mother came in and saw me, picked me up and took me to my father. We went to my room and put me down on his lap. I was crying because I know the pain is going hurt. He then said:’’ its ok, ramkat, im not going hit you, just scream a bit so that your mother thinks im spanking you.’’
That was fun.


Life was innocent.


Then one day my mother gathered the three of us in the kitchen, took us under arms and said:’’ I have cancer.’’

In that moment I saw my mother dying. I knew for fact that she was going to die. I had a strong certainty of it. I saw myself standing there, I could feel the pain that I would feel when the moment comes, I saw how my life ended.

This pain was too much, I was 9 years old.

I then figured, how can I stop feeling this pain? Maybe if I detach myself from my mother, the pain will not be so bad when the day comes.
I then saw myself being withdrawn from everything around me, I was standing back in the middle af a room, and then walls around me. I saw how my passion for music faded, my sense of feeling everything around me, I was how it all became empty. From this day on I would not alow anyone to come inside this wall. Anything to not feel that pain again.

I became lifeless. I sit and observe the world. I would sit and eat my breakfast, see my mother in so much pain, so much unnecessary pain. I would yearn to give her a hug, to comfort her. But I didn’t.
I had to stay away.

My father got a new job so we had to move to another place.
So we left our friends and family into a new place.

I was in grade six when we moved. I made new friends. My mother still had cancer but it slowly went away. By the of that year the cancer was gone.
But that feeling was still there, its not over.

My mother was cancer free for a year and a half.

In that time she got me a guitar. And so I went for guitar lessons, I enjoyed it.
For a moment I thought to myself, maybe I was wrong, I was hoping I was wrong.

Then one day after a guitar lesson my mother came to pick me up.
She got out the car and I knew. She said in a sweet voice, strongly, sadly:’’ my cancer is back’’.
My whole essence of my being was shaking with anger. I could feel it boiling inside me,
I cursed everyone in existence.
I cursed got, how can he let one being go through so much pain!!!!!
In fact I knew in that moment there is no god, with the same certainty had when I was 9, I knew there was no god.

So, my after about 6 month my mother could barely walk, pumped with chemicals, I could feel her pain and suffering, I could see how the cancer was eating her away.
I would sit by the computer and play games with me earphones on , my mother would call me. All she wanted was for me to come and talk with her, but when she called I ignored her.
She walked to my room when she wasn’t supposed to, feeling unbearable pain with every step.
My door was closed but I knew she standing outside, she just wanted to hear me play guitar.
I stopped playing, she opened the door and asked me to play for her.
I said I was too shy. I wanted to, but I couldn’t play one fucking song for her. She was very sad, and walked away.

On the bed she would lie, and I would stand in the hallway so she couldn’t see me.
I saw how she cared for us, making plans in her head so somebody could take care of us.
She didn’t want to die, I saw that she could let go and die when she chose to. But she endured the pain as long as she could, refusing to take pain medication do she could talk to us. I never did.

Her condition was too bad, she had to go to the hospital. When we went to visit, she was on pain medication that made her drowsy and confused. I sat by the window, I couldn’t look at her.
Her face was pale, she looked at me, into my eyes and reached her hand out to me. She couldn’t speak and I heard her asking:’’ come here fidelis’’. I wanted to take her hand and hug the pain away. But I ignored her and went outside.

It was on a Saturday, when my family went to go and see her in the hospital.
I knew that today will be the day that I saw when I was 9. Today the pain ends.
I said I didn’t want to go with, didn’t want to see her the way she was.

They came back. I saw my father. He was dead inside, I could see the emptiness. I saw my older sister, I saw the emptiness. I saw my younger sister, the innocents fading away, I saw how she locked herself inside with only the sadness, the sadness the only thing she has of my mother.

My father came to me and told me: ‘’she gone fidelis’’.

I went to my bed and cried.
I was wrong.
The pain was just as bad as when I felt it when I as 9.
It was worse. Cause this time there was a new feeling in me, eating me.
Guilt
I detached myself from my mother only to see that it was pointless.
I ignored her when she needed me.
I didn’t even once play guitar for her.
And now she is gone.
I didn’t say goodbye, that’s all she wanted.
For a whole day I cried, I was angry at myself for being so stupidly selfish.
I cried for my sisters, for my father and the pain I caused for my mother.

I then swore I will never feel again, AS long as I lived. Never.

At the funeral I wanted to play a song on the church organ, I didn’t.
I heard the pastor saying something stupid like ‘’everything has a reason’’.
It doesn’t.
I saw the emptiness of his words, and I could see the lies.
I saw the pointlessness in life, I was how we are all infinitely fuct.
I looked at the people when we buried her. I saw the they knew how pointless life is.
How there is no hope for us. But they had to believe to live.
We were praying together. It was empty words. People trying to justify the death of my mother saying its god’s will. I wanted god to be real so that I could blame him, fuck him. So I made him real, my own imaginary god.

After the funeral we had coffee and tea. All my mother’s friends would come to me and and say how sorry they were. My friends didn’t know what to say, they wanted me to be better so that they don’t feel awkward.
I told everybody that I was fine; I put up my mask and would live like this.

I wanted to kill myself, everyday I wake up I feel despair, misery.
I couldn’t kill myself, I cant leave my sisters, let them feel my pain.
So I lived to keep people happy, to keep people away from this feeling.

I was the one who would help others with their problems .
I was very good at it, it was as if I took their pain away and put it inside me.
I did this as punishment for myself, I must suffer for what I did.

3 months after my mother’s death my father comes to me asks:’’ I want to marry Erika.’’ (she worked with my dad). I wanted to say NO!!!! how could you marry after three months!!!
I didn’t want to see my father so lifeless. I saw that this woman would assist him immensely, at the expense of me and my sisters. We wanted to say no, but we said yes.

See, Erika didn’t really like children. But she tried to at least.
They got married, and she moved in all her stuff, and out all my mother’s stuff.
When we first moved into the house when my mother was alive and well, she said I could paint my room. It took me the whole day to paint it blue, my favorite colour.

One day I got home from school and saw my room was painted white.
With suppress anger I asked Erika why did she paint it white?
She said the whole house was white, so your room must be white.

I hated her for doing this, for taking away all my mothers stuff.
Just gave it away.
But my father was slowly getting more alive.
So I forced myself to like her.

She was a perfectionist.
We had to clean like motherfuckers.
If there was one bread crumb on the table she would freak.

One day sunette(my older sister) came home from school with a friend.
They smoked outside and put the buds in a cup which she then forgot in her room.
Erika found it and freaked, told sunette that if she doesn’t leave, Erika would leave my father.
So sunette left and moved out.

She also hated Erika.
Used to call her ‘’thing’’.lol

I was a zombie, walking on this hopeless earth with no purpose.
I didn’t know how long I could survive like this. Nobody knew who I really was.
I told lies every day. Feeling the guilt.
I stopped my piano lessons and grade six piano. It reminded me of my evilness.
Could I say that I loved my mother, how could I say that after what I did.
I would never forgive myself.






6 years ago my mother died. I lived in suppression all this time. When in a relationship I would prepare myself for when it ended. I lost the sense of feeling I had a child for things around me.
I became so detached to live I wasn’t sure if I ever felt.

I only allowed the guilt, anger and depression to come through.
Slowly killing myself with these feelings.
Slowly manifesting cancer in me, so that I could suffer like my mother suffered.

See,
I only lived for 9 years of my life.

Today, 20 January 2008, was the first time a faced this. Went into detail.
I cried writing from beginning till end.

For the first time I see the reason why my mother died.
If she didn’t , I would not have been here, in process.
Me and sunette would never have been here.

It was a gift from my mother, she sacrificed herself so that we can be free.
that is how much she loved us, by giving her live, so that I can be free.
Im so grateful for that, and I am honoring this act of pure love, my applying myself.
By doing what needs to be done.
Im breaking down the walls around me and daring to feel.
Enough is enough.

Erika was in my life to assist my father and us to get over my mothers death, to move on faster.
I am grateful for that. It was very effective.

It’s time to live.




So now the purifying of myself.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself not to feel, because I fear losing it
I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to be overcome by guilt, I cant change what happened.

I forgive myself that I haven’t allowed myself to be intimate with my mother because of the fear of losing her.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to punish myself, because I thought I must suffer for what I did.

I forgive myself for ignoring my mother

I forgive myself for not being there when she died.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to resist hugging and kissing my mother.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to base my whole life on one event when my mother died.

I forgive myself for being too afraid to live, too afraid to feel.

I forgive myself for being angry at my father, I see now that I was selfish.

I forgive myself for placing all my anger on an imaginary god, and my father.

I forgive myself for feeling angry at myself for what I have done.

I let go of the guilt.
I let go of the anger.
I let go of the depression.

I am ready to live again.

Even though I will still resist point in me I will face them.

I have stood up for myself.
I accept the gift of love you gave me mother.
I accept the gift of feeling.
And I accept the gift to act. Im done acting.
No more lies and dishonesties.

Im not angry anymore.
I see it that what happened was for the best and the only way.
I love you for what I have done.
Im sorry for not being there for you, I know you forgave me s long time ago.

Thank you.

Love,
me.