Junie in foto’s

 

Die vakansie is verby en ek is terug op die bos om my heel laaste semester op universiteit aan te durf. ’n Scary thought.

Maar hier is die foto’s van my Junie-projek om die semester mee the begin. Daar was baie dae wat ek net by die huis was en dit moeilik was om iets interessant te kry om van foto’s te neem. Inelkgeval, daar is ’n foto vir elke dag.

Vir Julie gaan ek foto’s van enige tipe teken neem.

Junie projek VIEW SLIDE SHOW DOWNLOAD ALL

Oor Fictional karakters

 

Ek het vandag amper nie by my Junie-projek uitgekom nie. Nie oor ek tot 4 uur toe gewerk het aan daardie stupid opstel nie. Nie omdat ek ’n deadline vir die local koerant gehad het nie, maar omdat ek uiteindelik die moed bymekaar geskraap het om hierdie week se episode van Game of Throne te kyk. Side note: moenie dit kyk as jy attached raak aan karakters nie, maar as jy GoT kyk is dit ’n weakness wat jy vinnig moet afleer. Ek sukkel self nog daarmee.

Anyway ek het daarvan onthou en hier is waarmee ek op gekom het vir die dag. Ek het ’n foto geneem van die landskap, maar dit was laat en die uitkoms was baie blurry en donker. Hierdie foto het my nie veel geleer nie en ek het die random goed op my lessenaar gekies het nie. Miskien het ek dit maar net gekies het omdat die roos besig was om dood te gaan en dit my laat dink het aan my vars wonde en idiotic tendancies om attached te raak aan karakters.

Bo en behalwe die shocking en grusome twists van ander skrywers, is ek weer na bietjie van ’n lang tyd  aan my eie storie herinner toe ek ’n artikel online gelees het oor Female leads (http://http://thoughtcatalog.com/2013/how-to-write-a-strong-female-lead/). Hierdie artikel het my terug gevat na ’n probleem wat my begin krap het vandat ek besluit het om Smallville weer te kyk my oë gerol het vir hoe annoying Lana was.

Ek dink nie sy was noodwendig sleg geskryf nie, ek het al baie sulke meisies ontmoet. Hulle is so perfek almal wil hulle wees of hê, maar hulle voel so pateties…so fragile.

Dit is beslis nie hoe ek wil hê my karakter moet wees nie. Natuurlik wil jy ’n sterk en relatable vroulike karakter skep, maar aan die ander kant wil ek ook nie ’n karakter soos Lois Lane hê nie. Jy weet daai amper bombastiese tipe vroue wat altyd voor in die koor is nie. Moenie my verkeerd verstaan nie, ek het baie van die karakter gehou, maar dis nie hoe ek my hoofkarakter wil hê nie.

Meestal omdat ek nie so is nie. Ek wil ’n karakter skep wat sterk is sonder dat dit in jou gesig is, iemand wat nie pateties voorkom nie. Ek weet nie of ek dit sal kan reg kry nie. So hier is nog ’n uitreksel uit my boek uit sodat julle kan sien of ek dit regkry.

My hoofkarakter kom dalk nie so sterk hier voor nie, dalk ’n volgende keer:

The four riders were very imposing. Three of them were clad in some sort of armour which seemed very light. It consisted of just a breastplate and plates around the arm. The fourth was only wearing gauntlets of metal. And they were all heavily armed.

The man who had called out to them was riding a little in front of the other. He was riding a great white horse taller than any that walked the earth. It was a magnificent beast. He was tall and had blond hair that curled a little longer and over his ears. He was a giant of a man. That’s what they saw when he pulled his horse to a halt and dismounted. He was extremely tall with broad shoulders and when he had dismounted he pulled his sword from its sheath which was tied to the horse. The other three men had also come to a stop and dismounted.

Peter had watched them for a while and when the leader came forward he spoke, the piece of bark was forgotten. “Have we done something wrong? Is it illegal to camp or to travel on these lands?” He asked. Lyanna had walked slowly back to her brother’s side.

One of the other riders had walked up to the leader’s side. “You should answer when you are spoken to. This land is part of the kingdom of Candalon.” The leader sighed. “Calm down Richard,” he said softly before he continued: “I wasn’t threatening you myself. I simply know what will happen to anyone who tries to damage this forest in any way. It normally ends very badly for them. So it wasn’t a threat, it was a warning.” He said. He sheathed his sword again and made a purposeful effort to release his threatening stance.

Two of the others copied his stance, but the one who had threatened him still seemed aggressive. “By their talk they’re from across the sea.” He said. For a moment a strange look of alarm flashed across the leader’s face. This sounded the alarm for Peter. He gave a slight glance over his shoulder and decided that thanks to the superstition they would probably not be followed into the White Woods. He looked at Lyanna and tilted his head ever so slightly. She didn’t look happy, but she would do it either way.

In a smooth motion he pulled his bow from his back and shot an arrow into them, but he didn’t wait to see that the arrow actually just jumped from a breastplate, because he ran – following Lyanna into the woods believing they wouldn’t follow him. Unfortunately he was wrong.

They hadn’t run far when they were chased down by the leader on the great horse and their path was blocked by him. He came in alone. Lyanna stumbled and fell and Peter knocked and arrow and strung the bow. The man didn’t move, he simply said: “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He said. “Why? You are all alone. You may be wearing armour, but believe me I will still hit and kill you.” Peter replied. “I believe you, but that wouldn’t be wise…Because I’m never alone.”

Behind them they heard a deep growl. And from out of the woods a wolf suddenly appeared. But it was nothing like the wolves of the eastern continent that they were used to. It was bigger, much bigger. It was quite a striking combination of pure black and white and its eyes were shocking blue. It would have been extraordinary beautiful to admire from a distance, but right now its fangs were bared and it approached slowly like it was stalking pray. “Ba Brego” the man said and dismounted while they were distracted by the wolf. Peter was confused. The wolf stalked around them until he was at the man’s side.

“I suggest you put it down.” Aldred said. Peter thought it was probably wise, but he was too terrified to submit to this horrifying creature. Lyanna had gotten up again. Peter reacted instinctively. He shot, very accurately and it penetrated the shoulder plates of the man. He fell back with the force and the wolf yelped and then pounced onto him but before the great fangs could bit down, the man stammered something in a foreign language and the wolf hesitated, but still pinned him down. From where he lay he could see the man standing up and pull the bloody arrow from his shoulder. He was clearly in a lot of pain.

The wolf bent down and growled and he could smell its breath. The man stumbled closer and picked up Peter’s bow. And then in front of peter’s disbelieving eyes, the wooden bow caught flame and turned to ash in the man’s hand.

He threw the ash down and bit his lips from the pain. “I’ll live, I promise. But I can do with you here.” He said softly but Peter heard him clear as day. To who he was speaking remained an open question. Then he spoke in the strange language to the wolf and the animal let him go. He was too frightened to do anything but sit up. Lyanna was hunched against a tree trembling of fear.

“Please don’t try anything like that again. I can’t stop him if I’m dead.” The man said. Peter wanted to stand up, but out from behind the trees shapes came and it took a few moments before they recognized them as men.

No they weren’t men, they were elves. When they came closer you could see their pointed ears. But elves were easy to recognize by more than their pointed ears. They were all tall and they had a distinctly elven air around them, and from their eyes light shone in the colour of their eyes, commonly called Elven Light.

All of them were wearing metal gauntlets and grey cloaks. And they all carried large white bows and elven arrows.

One of them came forward to the leader and the wolf. He had long dark hair and his cloak was pinned with a large jewelled broach which none of the others had.

He and the man spoke in the same language that he used to speak to the wolf. The other elves came to them and held arrows aimed at them. They were captives now.

But a strange thing happened. The injured man took his shoulder plate of and the elf who had spoken to him drew a dagger from his belt. The elf cut a small wound into his own hand and dripped a few drops of his blood into the wound from the arrow. And then after a few minutes the skin healed over.

Peter couldn’t believe his eyes, but the man didn’t seem surprised. He said a word to the elf and then put his armour back on.

He and the elf spoke another few sentences and then they seemed to agree about something. The elf turned to their captors and they pulled him and Lyanna to their feet and indicated for them to walk.

They walked a long time and it wasn’t out of the woods but deeper into it. It was as strange a place as it had looked from the outside. The trees grew tall before it branched out and when they branched out eventually the branches with leaves were so dense that you could not see the sky from the ground.

When they had walked for a few hours the man stopped suddenly and breathed in deeply. There had been no sound or change in the landscape.

Suddenly from behind the trees another wolf came trotting in and greeted the first wolf. It was clearly the same type of wolf, although this one was a little smaller but not much. It was pure white with only a small black mark on its forehead and had the same striking blue eyes. The man stroked the new wolf’s ears in a greeting but he was looking in the direction where it had come from.

And he wasn’t waiting long before a figure emerged from behind the trees. It was a woman and she was an elf.

She was wearing a deep blue dress and the material was lighter than air because it seemed to float around her. She had long blond air that tumbled to her waist and on the top of her head it was decorated with beautiful jewels. And from her eyes there shown a blue light.

She smiled when she came upon the group. Everyone apart from the man and the leader of the elven company bowed their heads to her.

Vir origami het ek probeer om ’n swaan te maak en dit is wat uitgekom het. Dit lyk nie regtig soos ’n swaan nie, maar nou ja. Hopelik gaan dit beter op dag 5.

Dag 3

 

Ek is trots om te sê dat ek nog nie opgegee het na 3 dae nie. Dit klink dalk nie soos veel nie, maar dit is vir my.

Hierdie foto het ek vandag geneem op pad om my tradisionele eksamen-lange craving vir Java-hot chocolate te bevredig. Die drie dagse reënstorms was nog op ons en hierdie foto was die oorsaak van ’n verlies aan iets wat baie vir my beteken het. ’n Sleutelhouer wat aan my handsak se zip was en afgeruk is toe ek my kamera probeer uithaal het terwyl ek met een hand nog die sambreel moes vashou. Dit klink dalk nie na veel nie, maar dit was die geskenkie vir die gaste by my beste vriendin se troue so ek is nogal sad daaroor.

Daar is egter min dinge wat die skoonheid van die reën nie kan regmaak nie. So ook die glimlag van ’n vreemdeling oor die Hot chocolate omdat daar so baie room bo-op is dat mens skaars ’n doppie kan oppas. Die hot chocolate self het ook baie vir my gemoed gedoen, ten spyte van die koue, ’n aaklige opstel wat net nie wil weggaan nie en ’n pyn in my rug wat ek nie heeltemal van ontslae kan raak nie, omdat ek nie kan rus nie.

Hierdie was my poging tot origami vir vandag. Dis ’n haas by the way en ek vergewe jou as jy dit nie geweet het nie. Hierdie hase is nie naastenby so mooi (of distinctive) soos die hase wat Alice vou nie. Maar ek het probeer. Eers wou ek ’n draak vou, maar ek het vinnig dit opgegee. Die key is om stadig te begin – met ’n misvormde haas.

Langtermyn projekte

 

In die spirit van eksamen en procrastinating het ek, in die middel van ’n naweek waar ek die meeste moes werk, ’n artikel gelees van mense wat projekte oor ’n jaar aanpak en elke dag iets doen, byvoorbeeld iemand het elke dag ’n nuwe stempel uit ’n uitveër gesny.

So ek het besluit om dieselfde te doen. Nie stempels nie, maar iets anders. Ek het twee projekte gekies en besluit om vir eers dit net vir die maand te doen.

Die eerste een is fotografie. Ek het besluit ek gaan elke dag ’n spesifieke foto neem in die hoop dat ek met die tyd meer instinktief die beginsels van komposisie sal oplet (soos ons foto-joernalistiek dosent ons geleer het). Ek kan niks belowe nie.

Ek het juis begin op 1 Junie en vir eers het ek dit oorweeg om ’n spesifieke tema te kies, maar op die ou einde het ek besluit om vir die maand dit ’n dagboek-ding te maak. Elke dag ’n foto te neem van iets significant wat daardie dag gebeur het.

Junie 1:

Junie 2:

Dan het ek ’n tweede een ook gekies. My suster is baie goed met origami en ek wou nog altyd dit gedoen het. So ek het besluit om dit te probeer vir die maand. Elke dag gaan ek iets nuut probeer vou, en ek kan beslis nie enige sukses guarantee nie.

Junie 1:

  

Vir die eerste dag het ek twee eenvoudige koeverte probeer en dit was maklik genoeg. Ek kon myself amper oortuig dat dit nie so erg gaan wees nie.

Junie 2:

Die tweede dag was effens moeiliker. Ek het begin deur ’n padda te probeer vou. Dit het baie sleg geëindig. Daarna het ek ’n vliegtuig probeer vou en dit het goed genoeg gegaan, maar ek het dit op laerskool gedoen, so ek het besluit dit tel nie. Daarna het ek die   probeer en dit het goed genoeg uitgekom, maar dit was nie so maklik om dit so te kry nie. Ek het meer as een keer gewonder waar ek nou eintlik moet vou en meer as een keer soos ’n total idiot gevoel. Uiteindelik het ek dit reggekry en hopelik sal dit al hoe makliker begin word.

Ek sal aanhou om te blog oor die projek en my ervarings daaroor en hopelik bring dit meer inspirasie as wat ek voor gehoop het.

Luminous

Ek het ’n kolom om te skryf vir môre, en dit is duidelik dat ek hard aan die werk is daaraan. Dit daar gelaat, ek gaan nie vanaand ’n post skryf nie. In plaas daarvan gaan ek ’n stuk uit my huidige storie plaas en hoop dat dit my dalk sal inspireer om oor my writer’s block te kom.

 

Like all stories we will start this one with once upon a time, but this world I will transport you to will be most unlike anything that ever existed. Perhaps it’s wise to spend some time describing it:

Once upon a time there was a world where two continents were known. The Eastern continent is not important for now but it was a land quite different from the western continent even though regular trade did occur between the lands. It is on the Western continent that we will focus.

The western continent was vast and it was divided into nine kingdoms although one of them was not strictly a kingdom anymore. The Southern coast was clustered with islands, which thinned out to the West and East. To the North of the country no one lived and the landscape was wild and dangerous and past that to the far north there was a dessert. Long ago there were people who dwelt there but they had all died out centuries before.

The land where people still lived was covered with dense woods, tall mountains and rich grasslands. High up in the Eastern mountains a great river originated which grew and flew west. At its widest point the river was so great that smallish ships could sail there and that was also the prime form of transport for trade between the East and the West of the Country.

It is in the west of this land that our story is set, in a land called Candalon. It was the largest of the original nine kingdoms and the only kingdom where the line of the first-born still reigned. But I will say more about them later. This land stretched to the West where it was separated from the ocean by a very tall mountain range and the eastern border was also a mountain range, but it was not nearly as tall or as long as the range in the west.

In between the two ranges was the kingdom of Candalon. The eastern mountains bordered and were partly covered by a forest where no one ventured. But the heart of the kingdom was Lake Candal for it was here that the castle of the king was, surrounded by the biggest town in the kingdom. Most people simply referred to this place as the Island for the king’s castle was built on a stone island in the lake close to the southern bank and connected to it by a great and ancient stone bridge. The people prospered in this kingdom and the line of kings was wise, just and good rulers.

The land had rich farm soil and other resources that made it a coveted land to own. But it was the only one of the kingdoms who had never change hands, so to speak.

There were many strange creatures on this land, but the most magnificent were the people that lived there. I will bring you to two of these wonderful people because this is chiefly their tale.

It is thus that I will throw you into our tale. Once upon a time in this land a ship arrived from the eastern continent. It arrived in the Tarindref inlet into the Ostar River. This Inlet came up from the Southern ocean and many ships used it to trade with the kingdoms who did not border the southern ocean like Candalon. The ship was carrying two unusual passengers in the form of a brother and sister from the eastern continent.

Luminous

There was no proper bay to land on the Southern side of the river. It was too close to a range of mountains. The river flew around on the range on the Northern side of the mountains and so the Northern bank seemed safe to land. But the ship’s captain would not make berth on the Northern bank, some superstition or other. He told the man that any berth that’s easy will get you killed. So instead the merchant-ship made an impossible berth on the Southern bank close to the mountains.

The passengers left the ship and found them self on the Southern bank of the Ostar River and on the Western bank of the Tarindref-inlet.

Lyanna slung her pack over her shoulder and walked up to her brother Peter. He was standing, facing the mountains. They found themselves on the Western continent with no real idea where they were although they had heard much from the land on their voyage.

“Where will we go to now?” She asked. He didn’t answer her, simply kept looking at the mountains. They were at least partly covered by a vast and dense forest. “There’s something strange about these woods.” He answered without really answering her question. “Tell me about that forest?” He asked one of the members of the crew who was busy unloading carts.

The man looked up at him, then back at the woods and back at him. “Here it is known as the White Woods…No one who ventures in there ever come out again.” He answered. “Why?” Lyanna asked her curiosity stirring. The man walked closer and lowered his voice. “Legends say that the elves still live there and they detest strangers in their land. But off course no one can actually prove that. Most people know full well that the elves died out centuries ago.” Lyanna wanted to say something but a look from Peter stilled her. “Where would you think would be the best place to start over?” He asked the sailor. “I would track south of the woods and then go straight to Candalon. The kingdom is peaceful and prosperous.” Peter thanked him, but said nothing more.

They started there walk. Peter watched everything around them as they walked and kept his eyes on the curious woods – the white woods. From their distance they could see the reason for the name. The barks of the trees were a strange white colour. It seemed a whole other world in there, separated from the lands where they now walked.

“You’re not seriously thinking of going in there, are you?” Lyanna said and he looked down at his sister for the first time in a while. “No, I don’t believe the superstition, but it’s foolish to walk into a place where people have been known not to return alive from.” She nodded, thankful. She didn’t like the look of the forest.

“What will we do here…on this strange land?” She asked. He sighed. “I don’t know, Lyanna. But we both agreed that we had to leave.” “I know” She answered. If nothing else this was a fresh start for them.

They made camp a good distance away from the White Woods that night and when they slept, they slept fitfully. Peter hardly slept at all. He woke his sister early in the morning when the sun wasn’t up yet and they set off again. By early afternoon they had reached the southern edge of the woods and from there their view into Candalon was unobstructed by the woods and the mountains. They could see grasslands stretching out until very far in the distance they could see it running into another forest which seemed far less menacing. “That looks like a forest I can navigate.” Peter said and in the distance he could see the Ostar River still flowing west far in the North. “They said we had to keep the line of the river.” Lyanna said. He nodded.

Peter’s fascination with the White Woods had grown in the shadow of it. “You walk I’m just going to look at the woods.” He said. “What happened to your words yesterday?” She asked. She had grown a little afraid of the woods through the time. She watched anxiously as her brother walked closer. “I’m not going in, I just want to look.” He stopped and touched the bark, then took out the dagger and stripped a piece of it to keep.

“I do not know who you are, but you have no idea how close to death you are.” A voice called. They both swung around and saw that behind them four riders had approached. They had been so mesmerized by the woods that they hadn’t even heard the hoof beats.

Ma & dogter…

Siende dat dit hierdie week moedersdag is, het ek besluit om oor hierdie baie belangrike onderwerp te skryf. Dit is een van die mees komplekse en moeilikste verhoudings in die wêreld. Die verhouding tussen ma en dogter -  ons klou vas aan hulle as ons klein is en baklei teen hulle as ons groot word. En êrens langs die pad moet ons besef dat die verhouding weer gaan moet verander.

Ek het nog altyd geglo dat daar ’n tyd in elke kind, en in hierdie geval, spesifiek in elke dogter se lewe kom waar hulle uit die huis uit móét gaan. Baie mense verskil hieroor van my – insluitend my eie ma (ek’s seker). Maar ek het dit al te veel gesien met mense van my ouderdom. As hulle teen hierdie ouderdom nog in die huis is, dan baklei hulle net die heeltyd met hulle ouers.

’n Baie goeie vriendin van my het ’n paar weke gelede gebel oor probleme wat sy met haar ma het. Ek sal nie op die details ingaan nie, maar dit het net my teorie onderstreep en my laat besef hoekom dit so is. Miskien is dit nie noodwendig dat jy te lank in die huis bly nie, maar eerder dat jy te tevrede is om mense te behandel soos toe jy ’n kind in die huis was.

Dit is waaroor ek wil skryf, daardie een tydstip in jou lewe wanneer jy besef jou verhouding met jou ma kan nie net aanhou soos wat dit was toe jy ’n tiener was en jou voete op die grond gestamp het en die kamerdeur toegeslaan het nie.

Want Sweetie, jy is nie meer ’n vyfjarige nie en tantrums is nie meer cute nie. Net so is dit nie meer aanvaarbaar om mense te behandel soos jy het toe jy klein was nie en êrens langs die pad het ons dit begryp. Maar hoekom behandel ons nog ons ma’s dieselfde?

Daar kom ’n ouderdom waar die verhouding moet wegskuif van ’n grootmens-kind-verhouding na ’n verhouding tussen grootmense. En hier is waar dit moeilik raak.

Jy sien die probleem lê in hoe ons as dogters ons ma’s sien. As kinders sien ons ma’s nie as volledig mense nie. Natuurlik is ons verskriklik lief vir hulle, maar dit is gewoonlik ’n verhouding waar ons net bekommerd is oor wat ons uit die deal uit kan kry. Maar dis OK, jy’s klein en dis wat ma’s doen. Totdat dit nie meer OK is nie.

Vir die verhouding met jou ma om te ontwikkel, rus dit op jou skouers om jou oë oop te maak en die mens agter die ma te sien. Dit is nie noodwendig ’n wonderlike proses om te ondergaan nie. Jy sien skielik al haar foute en alles wat sy opoffer om jou gelukkig te hou.  Jy hoor die ondertoon van kommer oor iets by haar werk as sy jou vra hoe klas was. Jy sien haar onsekerhede en haar vrese om nie genoeg vir jou te wees nie. Watter ma wil nie hê haar kind moet die perfekte jeug hê nie. Moenie vir een oomblik die illusie glo dat daar nie enorme druk op hulle is om alles reg te doen nie.

Dit was definitief ’n eye-opening ervaring toe ek my ma so begin sien het, ek dink dit was nadat ek uit die huis uit is. Ek is bly my oë het oop gegaan, dit het ons verhouding beslis verander. Maar ek moet erken dat ek nog soms oombliklik in ou patrone inval as ek by die huis is.

So vir hierdie moedersdag, gee jou ma ’n groter geskenk as chocolates en ’n lame kaartjie waarvan jy nie eers die boodskap gelees het nie. Aanvaar haar vir die mens wie sy is, onsekerhede, vrese en opofferings en al. Dit is waarskynlik alles vir jou gewees.

Abusive vriendskappe

 

Emotional abuse word al hoe meer in tydskrifte gesien en veral vrouens word daarteen gewaarsku. Daar is verskeie simptome en waarskuwingstekens wat ek nie nou oor gaan praat nie. Wat ek eintelik hier wil noem is dat dit in meer gedaantes kom as wat mens dink.

Case in point:

My laaste twee jaar op laerskool was ridiculous gewees. En ek bedoel soap-opera rediculous. Ons was 12 en 13, maar couples het op mekaar ge-cheat en daar was beslis meer emosionele drama as wat gesond was vir daardie ouderdom.

Binne hierdie morsige omgewing was ek deel van ’n groep van vier vriendinne. Ons was ’n baie klein jaargroep en almal het almal geken, meer as dit…almal het oor almal geskinder. Een van hierdie groep was ’n meisie, kom ons noem haar Lana*. Sy was nie mooi of charming of regtig enige iets nie, maar sy het ’n tipe damaged magnetism gehad wat mense soos vlieë om haar gevange gehou het.

Lana het ’n baie sad geskiedenis gehad, jy weet afwesige ouers, moeilike omstandighede en disastrous besluite as gevolg daarvan. Almal wou altyd daar wees vir haar, maar enige vriendskap met haar was soos ’n tipe van verslawing: Jy weet hoe sleg dit is vir jou selfbeeld, maar dit voel so goed om te voel dat jy regtig iets in iemand se lewe beteken.

Ek was 13, so ek gaan nie maak of iets van die lewe of van mense geweet het nie. En ek is natuurlik baie skaam vir wie ek was daardie tyd. Hierdie post kan ek net met die wysheid van retrospek skryf. En as ek terugdink kan ek nie imagine hoekom haar approval so big deal vir my was nie. Miskien was dit die feit dat niemand dit ooit gekry het nie. Selfs as sy vir my briewe geskryf het van hoe goeie vriendin ek is en hoe baie ek vir haar beteken, was daar ’n superiority daaraan, asof ek maar net ’n klein dogtertjie was wat veldblommetjies vir haar juffrou pluk wat dan net in die asblik gegooi word.

Al drie van ons het onder hierdie tipe simptome gely, wat dit erger maak want deep down het dit in ’n tipe van kompetisie ontaard, wie gaan sy vandag vertrou of inlaat. Agter af sou ons praat oor hoe ons nie meer kan saamleef met haar belaglike mood swings nie en dat sy ons net beledig en afbreek, maar die oomblik as sy die dag beter vriendinne was met een van ons, het ons op mekaar gedraai. Haar aan-en-af boyfriend van toe, het ook hierdie sindroom opgetel. As hulle bymekaar was het hulle baklei en mekaar gek gemaak, maar as hulle nie bymekaar was nie, was hy obsessief oor haar. Hy wou die heeltyd weet wat sy doen en het kommentaar gelewer oor hoe sleg haar keuses was.

Uit my (lagwekkende) dagboekinskrywings van daardie tyd, kan ek aflei dat ek wel geweet het hoe distruktief ’n vriendskap met haar was, maar sy het jou altyd laat voel of sy jou nodig het, en dit vat baie innerlike krag om weg te loop van dit af. Dit was eers toe ek hoërskool toe is en sy weggetrek het, dat ek clarity gekry het. Die oomblik wat ek daar wou wees vir haar, het sy die cloak van superiority en disapproval aangeneem. Sy het my dikwels beskuldig van allerhande goed. Maar toe op my eie voete gestaan het en my eie lewe met nuwe vriende begin kry het, het sy ewe skeilik soos ’n mossel vasgeklou aan ons vriendskap en my beskuldig dat ek haar afskryf.

Ek kon net nie wen nie. Die enigste manier was om heeltemal kontak te verbreek. Dit was baie moeilik, en miskien het ek dit nie reg hanteer nie, maar dit was die een ding waaroor ek nog nooit spyt was nie. Ons het later jare weer begin praat en ek het gevind dat sy net nie meer dieselfde effek het op my nie, maar ons sal nooit close vriende kan wees nie.

Dis seker baie unfair om al hierdie disfunction voor Lana se deur te lê. Ek ontken dit nie, ons was jonk en die situasie was grootliks ’n gevolg van ons swakhede en die behoefte wat die meeste kids van daardie ouderdom het om in te pas en te voel iemand het hulle nodig. En natuurlik het sy ’n harde lewe gehad en sy het meer as waarskynlik nie al hierdie goed bewustelik gedoen nie. Sy het hulp nodig gehad, maar nie een van ons was equipped om dit vir haar te gee nie, en dit is wat ons almal ge-scar het.

Deur my lewe het hierdie ’n groter impak gehad as wat ek bereid was om te erken. Meeste van my vriendskappe was dysfunctional op een of ander vlak. In die meeste gevalle was dit iets soortgelyk waar mense net in my vriendskap belang stel as hulle ’n skouer nodig het om op te huil. En vandat ek op universiteit is, laat ek nie sommer mense naby my toe nie. Nie dat ek ooit regtig het nie, maar dis baie erger nou.

Ek moet erken, ten spyte van alles het ek in my lewe wel al baie goeie vriendinne gehad. Mense wat daar was vir my en wie ek bly was om die skouer te wees vir hulle wanneer hulle my nodig gehad het.

Een van my beste en oudste vriendinne Lily*, was juis een van daardie vier op laerskool en ten spyte van daardie situasie het ons op hoërskool baie goeie vriendinne geword. Ek was so 2 jaar gelede strooimeisie op haar troue en sy is nou baie gelukkig getroud en swanger. Ek hoop net die beste vir haar en die kleintjie oppad.

Dit is juis uit hierdie tipe situasies waar jy jouself die beste leer ken, en êrens binne jouself die krag vind om deur die web te breek. Maar dit het nie noodwendig ’n happy ending nie, want jy verloor iets van jouself. In my geval die vermoë om mense sonder enige voorwendsel in te laat.