This is a collect of reminisces of my life – Events, observations, helicon days of Thunder & Wonder.
Retold in the style of an old man recalling his youth.
The story of life in South Africa as told by a white South African man
Will begin to tell the story of my life. After the fashion that the reader would find in the form of Native Americans recounting their lives a century ago. In this case an old African man rambling on about his life as told besides the tribal fire at night.
The first thing I want to tell you about is how I came to write my story, many years ago after an incident when I literally lost all my marbles. I thought I might write down a short narrative of the events that had led to my incarnation in what I and many others would call a mental asylum or a mad house.
When I referred to This institution as such in the presence of a particularly helpful doctor who was treating me there, I was informed that it was neither an asylum for the mental or a mad house but a hospital for the curing of sick minds.
A very modern approach to insanity in my opinion, but never the less it makes sense in a strange way.
I worked in the informal security sector in South Africa for most of my early adult life as a result I witnessed various incidents that would be associated with a country almost in a state of civil war.
Now living in a state that is repressive, even if your particular racial group is viewed by the majority of the population as the oppressors does not exactly make you an oppressor or privileged. It just means that your ancestry and genetic makeup makes you part of that group essentially during apartheid.
I was a disadvantaged and under privileged English speaking white South African,now after apartheid I am a disadvantaged and under privileged English speaking. White South African so what has changed?
You would think I would ask myself the fact is the stay in the mental hospital was cathartic in that it released a new outlook on life a change in creative direction and a first step in the right direction. In becoming a better human in become a better South African.
Further the ideals of the new South African government and their more extreme members leave a foul taste in one’s mouth, when confronted by a bombastic half.
But I digress the reason that I was in the institute, the disturbed is that the events leading up to during and post the 1994 democratic elections were to say the least very stressful for me. Both on the level of what was happening across the nation as well personally.
Been in the security guard industry was a career with more than a little danger above what my fellow South Africans of all races was and is to this day. A number of events had finally led to me breaking down and my beloved father and wife having to get an order from the local magistrate’s court to have me committed to an involuntary stay in the intuition of mental health.
Further when the order had been got the police had to be informed to come and collect me, and place me in safe keeping in the hospital my wife had informed the police to act with caution, because I was very clever and they would face great danger when confronting me. This in essence was very true as she had not 24 hours previously been faced by my violence when I had threatened certain members of the family with a replica of a 17th Century Claymore broad sword.
She was absolutely correct when I was confronted both the police officers and I were placed in great danger. Been previously disarmed of a pistol the previous day the only thing I had on me was a Swiss army knife. (This weapon was the event not even taken from my pocket the danger came from the knowledge of Asian fighting arts that I had acquired over the years and practiced.
However after been subdued by approximately 10 policemen who mobbed me and forced me to the ground I was safely conveyed me into the loving arms of the Mental health Department.
In the first few days I was there I discovered the following:-
That you could say what you wanted to in an institution it did not matter, no one will take any notice of you. (This came as quite a revelation in society you are used to people taking note of what you are saying, to be totally ignored was a startling discovery)
There are few moments in life when you are confronted by a truth or rather the real truth of a situation and this comes either as a mental slap in the face or as a bucket of fresh mental water.
The events of my stay caused me to begin writing, painting composing music, building violins, and making model ships (in all of these things I became quite proficient. As a dyslexic I had always wanted to put uhsomething on paper that could make people understand that dyslexics are people to.
I began to look for my place in the sun.
TO BE CONTINUED.
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