About Me

“I could tell you my adventures – beginning from this morning,” said Alice a little timidly: “but it’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.”

Alice in Wonderland – Lewis Carroll

Once upon a time there was a woman who once imagined herself as the Queen of Hearts, nemesis of Alice, ruler of her own little Wonderland and thee queen of all rabbits. Twice as moody and more brutal and arrogant.  She had everything a queen should have and yet did not see it…two beautiful daughters, an awesome job, better than average salary, great friends, not too ugly boyfriend, a house, a car, a motorcycle….

She had everything she wanted but craved more. She worked hard and played even harder. Parties, biking and alcohol nearly everyday. Living dangerously, challenging fate with no respect for her own life. Her snippets of memory allowing her a replay of the crazy shit she did the previous night…, smashing her car windows to look for the keys or waking up in unfamiliar beds, unintentional barfights, just drinking, riding and partying all night. Although she loved her daughters more than life itself she was an absent mother, forever working, forever partying. Never really there for them

Of course, I do not really remember the old me. I learned a lot about who she was by reading her old poems, diaries, comments and posts on Facebook, listening to old voice-notes and messages on WhatsApp etc…..I have to admit, even though I learned she was irresponsible, reckless, dominating, hard, and a super bitch I would’ve love to deck – I cant help but to admire her fearlessness, dynamic spirit and intellectual capacity. She was fierce, passionate, ruthless, smart, and in control. Always! Always partying, always working, never taking shit from anyone! She had loads of friends, fun and no worries!! Like I said, a real Queen…..

But could she ride that motorcycle with a set of balls, bigger than most guys!  A ZX14 beast! Big. Fast. Deadly. He was her ‘Seuntjie’ (little boy) and she used any excuse to ride, like she did on that fateful, sticky-hot, summer’s evening. She had a serious discussion with the boyfriend regarding his ex and me refusing to pay alimony for his kids, gave him a choice, and took a ride just to calm down and clear her head. After about an hour she felt better and was on her way back.. Her last memory was sitting on Seuntjie, waiting impatiently for a red traffic light, to turn green….

And then…

When I woke up….Like really ‘woke’ up, it was already 2 months later. Apparently I was busy with a coma for a couple of weeks🙄, lots and lots of surgery, a hospital super virus, and turning into a fish (another story for another day)

I was officially created (born?) in a rehabilitation hospital, in Auckland Park, Johannesburg with beautiful gardens and glowing Angels in uniform, who cared for my broken body and nursed me back to health. They learned me how to walk, talk, eat, bath, draw, and even how to remember words again. That’s five years ago……five years filled with pain, frustration, confusion, anger…..a living hell. But it was also five years filled with meeting amazing people, who helped me to be able to finally look in a mirror and not see a stranger, but accept what is staring back at me. They helped me come to terms with who I am, my my memory, my new personality, my aggression, my struggle with finding words and all other abilities that were either gone or changed by the brain injury. So much sadness… I am an orphan, no siblings, who lost everything. My job, my house, my friends, my sense of smell, my ability to taste, my vision, my concentration, my memory, my personality – all gone. Tabula Rasa. 

Wow! Now that sounds like a proper pity party!!! No worries, I’m done feeling sorry for myself! LOL, I admit. Thinking back about it all and formulating it in words, sort of sounds seriously depressing! But it’s not that bad….I mean, of course it’s bad, but it is not that bad…if you get what I am saying? I get to experience new favourites, new passions and likes while keeping some of the old ones. So my sense of smell and taste is buggered but that also means I can’t smell bad breath, stinky garbage bags, or even farts!! I constantly forget things and loose memories, which means there is a 50/50 possibility to forget a bad memory or experience. Positive thinking is my Motto😁. I am slowly getting to know this person in my head trying to embrace my being. I even catch myself feeling grateful at times! It still amazes me that hey could stitch up and create, an odd-looking rabbit with all the pieces of the queen they picked up. Unfortunately a TBI is nearly always accompanied by agitated aggression & difficulty in controlling it. That’s why I am started this blog. It’s a safe place where I can loose my shit, rant and ramble whenever that psycho bunny tantrums take over. It’s better to vent here than taking it out on the few souls I still have leftI am doing this page for me. ❤