Now Justin, that is an excellent question. I am in a calmer and more balanced space compared to where I was this time last year. The constant war in my head is based on this: I don't know whether being in a calmer, more balanced space is a good thing or a bad thing. I want it to be a good thing, but Ana is telling me it's a bad thing. It gets tiring trying to argue with her, but I have to persist. The more you give in, the more she has an audience. So, it's up to me to fight her shrilling voice. I'm fighting against myself, for myself. It's a continuous struggle, and it drains me of my energy. But it must be done if I am ever to be free of her perilous grip.

At the beginning of 2015, I was diagnosed clinically and life-threateningly ill. 

Shock pulsed it's way through my cold body and numb soul. I was scared right to my core. Every part of me hurt, and days dragged on like bat claws on a blackboard. I ached with sadness and trembled with anger and fear. The pain felt insurmountable, I felt perpetually tired, depressed, and I couldn't remember a day that didn't start or end with tears soaking my pillow or drenching my clothes. 

I was taken out of school to heal. During this time, I missed my friends more than my heart could handle. I was given the choice to repeat Grade 11 next year. I decided that I wasn't going to let this illness ruin my chances of conquering Grade 11. Once I was well enough to be back in school, that is exactly what I did. I started anew, found my feet, and got my academics back on track. And today, I got my certificates for an A aggregate, multiple subject awards, and consistent hard work and diligence. I didn't think that I would get to see Matric, but now, I can.

Anything is possible. You can defeat anything. Your ghosts don't define you. I am trying every single day not to let her define me. This year has been a year of learning, healing, and loving. If you forge your armour, bear your battle scars as warrior runes, and let your life lessons be your weapons to climb to glory, you can conquer your monsters, and emerge stronger, and more powerful than ever before.

I am climbing to my glory. This is all part of a continuous journey. I am building myself up, growing my power, and giving myself the time and space to heal, recover, and learn to love my body.

My message is that anything is possible. I didn't think I would get my end of year Grade 11 report for 2015, let alone get top achievements in my grade, and be promoted to Matric. But, here I am!

Matrics of 2016, let's do this.

XO

"I thought you'd forgotten about me." 

Wait, what? You thought I'd forgotten about you? You thought I'd forgotten your entire existence? You thought that my mind had been stuffed with the frivolity of school, studying, slogging, and sleep, that I haven't had time to think about you? Ever?

Here is my truth: I don't forget people. I may forget the details of conversations, but I don't forget how people made me feel. Those feelings fill my heart. They keep me warm. If you have ever made me laugh like a loon, or made my heart flutter, I will never forget the comfort of that feeling, or how it was you that made me feel that way. 

I'm sorry if we don't talk as much as we used to, but I haven't forgotten about you. I haven't forgotten about us. 

I promise.

When I think of her, I think of the sun. Storm clouds clear whenever she is near. She makes me feel like liquid warmth is pulsing through my veins.

When I think of her, I think of bees, and honey, and a bear in a red t-shirt. I think of princesses with flowing, golden hair, of waterfalls, midnight drives, fairy lights, snow storms, of silver mirrors and poison apples, of shooting stars, swimming in rivers, salty hair, and sandy toes.

Tazzy.

She is a seashell: If you hold her close, you can hear her story. She is a warrior princess with dangerous hair, strong arms, and a fierce heart. She is protective, outspoken, an explorer, but also tender, soft, and warm.

She has an intricate mind and a delicate heart. She holds in her heart many things, as do I. But I know that we both have our own place in each others hearts.

Nothing can break the bond of sisterhood, not a witch, nor dragon, come hell or high water, we will stand together through it all.

And we will fight our wars and be crowned champions, before the lights go out, and the stars wink goodnight above our blazing heads.

Pray for the killing of innocent civilians in Paris. Pray for the lives lost to gang violence on our very streets. Pray for the Japanese and Mexicans suffering in the earthquake aftermath. Pray for the tragedy of the funeral bombing in Baghdad. Pray for the victims of the suicide bombing in Beirut. 

Pray that our humanity is restored. Pray for our world.

I have a profound love for astrology. So, when I found a post on Tumblr detailing rather poetically how to treat each of the signs, I couldn't resist sharing it with you. Credits to the original source of the post: lame-astrology.tumblr.com.

♈️ Aries: Like an oasis. Like they are salvation in a territory of blank cruelty. Their kindness and generosity should be shared, but protected from those who wish to taint it.

♉️ Taurus: Like a home. They are always someone who is associated with comfort and normality, but they are never to be disrespected or abused, because while they stand tall, they could easily come crumbling down, broken.

♊️ Gemini: Like a classic book. Their length of wisdom and truth is timeless. Be careful when dealing with them. One wrong move could spin their pages forever, and tear their seams. They should be cared for, and their stories should be told to everyone.

♋️ Cancer: Like your favourite old song. They should be remembered and loved by everyone. Just the sound of them should bring joy and nostalgia to people far and near. They have a way of speaking to people, no matter the background.

♌️ Leo: Like a dagger. Their beauty may be intimidating and seem far away, but close enough, their edges are sharp, ready to pierce and ready to defend themselves against all who plan to fight. They are to be sheathed and cared for.

♍️ Virgo: Like a mug. A mug is used to be filled up with liquids to warm your body and quench your thirst, despite the cracks and dents in it. We often look past the signs to fill our own needs. But, if you are not careful, the one crack should lead to the entire thing shattering. They should be repaired, and loved for all their imperfections as well as their perfections.

♎️ Libra: Like a piece of glass. If you hurt them, and are lucky enough to be forgiven, just remember you have left a crack on their exterior, and it will always be a reminder to them.

♏️ Scorpio: Like a fire. Their light should be shielded from the wind, protected and kindled, so it can burn brighter and brighter. Their warmth may be soft, but it is not to be taken lightly, because fires can engulf and destroy as well.

♐️ Sagittarius: Like a rare flower. Their beauty may be brilliant, but that doesn't mean they don't need reassurance from time to time that they are incredible and one of a kind.

♑️ Capricorn: Like the stars. Even though you only see them from occasionally, you know they're constantly there, and appreciate their presence and guidance. Their light is always a constant reminder that darkness doesn't have to be so lonely after all.

♒️ Aquarius: Like a storm. They may be unpredictable and hasty, but if you battle through the hardships and roughness, you will get to the centre. And learn that there's nothing to be afraid of after all.

♓️ Pisces: Like a pen. They inspire you and help you channel your creativity, but if you mess up, it leaves a mark that can only fade with time. They should not be taken for granted or left behind when they run out of ink. They should be cherished forever for getting you through a time when you needed a spark of creativity most.

What's your sign?

I am naturally drawn to passionate people. People whose eyes sparkle when they talk about something they love, and whose mouths practically run away when they talk about their hobbies, dreams, or goals. It gives me hope for their future, and makes me believe in the possibilities the future holds.

I find passionate people emanate self-motivation and energy. They make sublime leaders, advice givers, and friends. I aim to surround myself with such people. Passionate people (here comes my favourite phrase) feed fire to my soul, and make me want to make my dreams a reality.

I believe that passion, determination, and hard work are the key qualities needed to make your dreams come true. Passion, so that your heart palpitates with pure exhilaration whenever your dream crosses your mind. Determination, so that you keep your head held high, your eyeline towards the stars, keep drawing air into your lungs, and keep moving forward towards the person you want to be, hope to be, dream to be. Hard work makes you more self-sufficient, and allows you to discover what kind of person you are: Your strengths, wildest dreams, talents, and opening your eyes to what you want out of life.

I've recently become invested again in an avid passion of mine, and I have renewed faith in what my purpose in life is. That sounds corny, but hear me out: 

By committing myself to something, and by emersing myself in my passion, by strengthening my voice, I feel like I have a purpose to bring energy and life to my passion, and to the people with whom I work. That is the greatest blessing, since I often struggle to find and remember my purpose in life, and why I should keep fighting to a space where I will be okay one day. My passion reminds me that I deserve to love myself, because I produce unique talents that can't possibly be replicated by any other person.

We all have something valuable to contribute to the people around us. We have a duty to love ourselves, and be kind to one another. 

We are here to bring joy, spread love, and ignite passion.

Recognise that you have a balance of darkness and light. It is necessary to have this precious balance. Never compare your darkness to someone else's light. You cannot have night without day, nor can you have the moon without the night sky.

*TRIGGER WARNING: Eating disorder (anorexia nervosa)*

Last year, I met someone who gave me comfort at the time when I needed someone to hold me. She told me she cared about me, and convinced me that she knew how to make everything happy and good again. She got inside my head, and made me sick. She took my life with both her hands and steered it in her direction. She moulded my body with her hands, and flattened and hardened the surface. She made my organs weak, and my brain became a blob of clay. She thought for me, spoke for me, and acted on my behalf. I was tired, lethargic, irritable, and sharp, but she convinced me that I would only be happy if she stayed in control. It was her way or no way. I was a puppet, and she was my puppet master. All she had to do was wave a hand for me to dance around for her. She manipulated me, she starved me, and she nearly killed me. The scariest thing of all was when it was time to stare her in the face and learn her name: Ana.

In January, I was diagnosed with an eating disorder called Anorexia nervosa. I was detrimentally underweight, had dangerously low blood pressure, critically low heart rate, no iron, protein, calcium, magnesium, or vitamin D, low bone density, I had no energy, I was pale, my hair was falling out in clumps, I constantly felt faint, I felt bloated after every mouthful, I stopped menstruating, I cried at every meal time, I was put on every kind of vitamin supplement, I never drank water, I lied, I cried, I collapsed, I wanted to run away, I wanted to end it all. My doctor was completely surprised as to what energy I was surviving on. I was taken out of school. I was bedridden. I cried even more, and I had never before hated my life that much. To this day, I am in a rehabilitation process on an out-patient bases.

Rehabiliation is a push and pull process. It's a struggle. One day, you're conquering the world, and the next day, you're losing the war. One day, you can see the sun, and it feels like the warmth is emanating into all corners and crevices of your body. The next day, it feels like the cold is seeping into your blood, and freezing your heart. It is not a straight and narrow road. It twists and turns, filled with road blocks, potholes, and monsters creeping out of alleys and crawling out of drains.

Recovery is not something you can measure on a spectrum, which is something most people don't understand. Anorexia is not a physical disorder with mental side effects. It is a mental disorder with physical side effects. This means that the anxiety and the controlling voice inside my head takes out its frustration on my body. I've gotten to a safe weight as of now, but that does not mean I have recovered. You can't look at me and say I'm better. Because I'm not. I'm far from better. My relationship with food is far from healthy. I have a deep-rooted fear of food. There are some foods I don't know if I'll ever be brave enough to eat again. Looking at a plate of food, or something like a protein bar, makes me want to cry. The more I think about eating it, the more my body seems to get bigger and bigger, until I promise myself that I won't eat it. That promise gives me a sense of peace. But where does it end? When I stop eating for good? When my organs fail and I die? My rehab is focusing on the food space, and being okay with eating normal portions of food. It's about restoring normality (which, to me, is insanity) in my life about food, and reminding me that food is necessary for growth and development. This seems like an arbitrary idea to me, and it's a struggle I am going to have to live with.

Someone once told me that the brain is a muscle, and I have trained it to think a certain way. I must now learn to train it to think differently. But let me tell you something, it is the most tiring, emotional journey I have ever had to endure. It's painful, and it makes you question everything you know about yourself. How did I get here? Was I born to be like this? What's the point of everything? You begin to feel as though nothing matters.

I try put on a brave face most days. I tell people that I am still plodding along on my journey, which I am. A large part of me, however, is telling me to stop walking. It's telling me that my efforts are futile, and ignorance is bliss. Essentially, it's telling me to quit. These are the days when I feel most depressed, when it feels like the cold is never ending, and when it feels like I am falling into a deep, dark hole. All the breath is knocked out of my chest, and my breathing goes ragged, and my head hurts, and all I want to do is sleep for ten years. Or forever.

However, there is also this side: I want to have a child one day. If I am denied the right to have a child because my eating disorder has rendered me infertile, I won't be able to live. I want to live to be an actress, get married, and have a family of my own. I want to teach my baby how to walk, talk, read, laugh, and how to live life happily. I want to pour my life, love, and energy into someone. I want to live to be happy and free. I want to bake brownies with my child, and be able to eat them with her without counting the calories. I want to take her to the movies, and eat popcorn without forcing it back up, or devising ways to get rid of it. I want to bring life into this world, and in order to do that, I need to be able to look after myself. I need to build my love and strength for myself. I need to ground myself, and learn to be healthy again. Only I can repair myself. Only I can make myself new again. This is easier said than done, but maybe this is my purpose.

This is something I always need to remind myself whenever that evil voice of my eating disorder is telling me I can't do it.

I've got news for you, Ana: I can do anything.

Having acne, frizzy hair, or a gap between your teeth doesn't make you unattractive. Choosing to mock someone because of what they look like cannot be condoned. 

Am I less beautiful if my eyebrows aren't perfectly symmetrical? If I'm having a bad skin day, does that make me less desirable? Or even ugly? It's called the Don't Judge Me Challenge, but I'm feeling a lot of judgement towards the perception of beauty. We tell our friends to love the skin they're in, and then we make fun of people with spots on their faces and wonky smiles. That's not fair.

I'm challenging you to take part in the Self Love Challenge. It needn't be for the internet. Do it for yourself. I don't want social media to become any more of a platform upon which we openly body shame our friends. Let's open our hearts, and spread the love.

#SelfLoveChallenge

If you want to know why I'm sharing my journey of recovery on my private Instagram account and my blog, this is the purest answer I can give you: I don't want to be alone.

I don't want to feign that what I'm enduring is a passing phase. It's real. What I feel is present and real. Mental health is important. I'm going to repeat that. Mental health is important. We are all human created in the eyes of God. Mental illnesses do not define you as a spiritual being.

I'm also writing because I want you, need you, to take care of yourself. Celebrate little victories. Getting out of bed in the morning. Recognise happy moments. When your doggy pads over just to snuggle you. Strive for a life of health, happiness, and humility.

Look out for your friends. Never leave someone alone. Pull them back harder and stronger. If you ever feel alone, look at the clouds, and know that you have something great inside you. It is what you are destined to reflect, and the reason why you have a beautiful body to be in. I want people to become more aware of and sensitive towards others.

Let's all just look out for each other, okay?

Blessings

*TRIGGER WARNING: Depression, anxiety*

Picture this:

It's the final round of Masterchef. There is one minute left of the final challenge. The two remaining chefs are scrambling around their kitchen, furiously tossing spices and sauces over their dishes. Beads of sweat emanate from their foreheads, and their eyelashes are damp with tears. As they plate up their dishes, the judges already begin  to one another. Youstrengths andhe edge of your seat, your knuckles white from clutching the TV remote so tightly. "Who is gonna make it? Who's dish will be better? What will the final decision be? Who will win?"

That is how I have felt my whole life.

My first memory of being stressed to the point of tears was when I was nine years old. Our teacher was on maternity leave, and our substitute teacher was not familiar with the school rules, classroom regulations, or our test schedules. She did not know how to keep us under control, or that we were scheduled to have a spelling test that Friday. The whole situation made me feel sick. I went home that day barely able to string two thoughts together because I was so stressed. Not for me, but for the substitute teacher. I felt the overwhelming urge to sit her down, and explain everything about the school to her. Break times, our timetable, who sat where, who was friends with who.

I have always been that kind of person. If someone doesn't understand something, I will sit with them and explain it to them until they understand it. I would rather leave my work till the last minute and help someone who can't do theirs, than finish my work and leave that someone floundering in the deep end. That isn't me. I can't sleep at night knowing that I could've done better. Tried harder. Been more mature.

I place an insurmountable pressure on myself to do well at school. School and being a diligent student takes up most of my mental space. I think about nothing else other than how I can be the best in any given area. Some say this is a good thing, and it helps you compete and make yourself known. I guess it all depends on the type of person you are, and how well you know your strengths and weaknesses, coupled with how you handle stress. 

I started becoming obsessed with how others saw me. People would often say to me, "You're always happy" or "You're always smiling" or "You never get angry". Now, any normal human being has a combination of happy days, sad days, and angry days. But, not in Sarah-Kate's case. Oh no. Sarah-Kate is never unhappy. Sarah-Kate never cries. Sarah-Kate never gets angry. She is a cool, happy-go-lucky, hard-working girl. She doesn't have any problems of her own. Heck, I've never heard her complain about a single thing!

Because of comments like these, which I took in my stride at the time, I started placing a lot of how I saw myself in other people, and my self-esteem deteriorated. If I could put it visually, it would be like looking in a mirror, but instead of acknowledging your own reflection, asking someone else what they see. As a result of this, I started striving for perfection. I felt that if I made any mistakes, it would ruin the image people had of me. 

I worked myself to the point of a breakdown. I remember my hands shaking on the car rides to school, because I knew how hard I would have to work, and how I couldn't let anyone see that I hadn't slept the night before. I remember crying on the car rides home, because I was overwhelmed by the amount of work I had to do, and let the tears flow that I'd been holding in all day. I remember crying at night, not wanting to go to sleep. I knew that when I opened my eyes, the vicious cycle would run its course all over again.

As I've mentioned in Red Velvets and Panic Attacks, my panic attacks became worse. I started dreading coming to school. I privately researched home-schooling options, thinking that this would ease the stress. As much as I wanted to leave school, I knew that I wanted to have a leadership position in my Matric year. That meant the world to me at the time. So, I suppressed my manifesting anxiety, and continued pushing myself to work hard, and prove my diligence.

I started getting tired very easily. I became burned out quickly, and became socially withdrawn. When  I went to school to write exams, I would hide in the bathroom before the exam, and dash out of the venue straight after the exam. I didn't want to see anyone. I didn't want to acknowledge that what I was feeling was real. I couldn't let anyone see that I was vulnerable. Because Sarah-Kate doesn't have any problems. She is a hard-working, studious girl. I thought by pushing on, I was being strong, and it would only get easier, if I just kept pushing and pushing. I realise now that instead of pushing myself upwards, I was spiralling downwards.

We are six months into 2015, and I have been feeling significantly depressed. Depression is like living with a monster. It is like my head and body are empty vessels through which this evil spirit preaches its gospel. It's a numbing feeling. My fingertips are raw, and my mouth is dry. My head hurts, and silence is deafening. I feel like I can't breathe. I'm stuck under a frozen lake, while everyone is skating above me. Or maybe, I'm the ice. Cold and lifeless. I want to buy a big, empty house in the middle of a cold forest. I won't fill it with any furniture. I just want to lie on the stone cold floor, and hear nothing. See nothing. Feel nothing. I'm tired of holding on. I don't know what I'm holding on for. Nothing matters. I don't matter. I could disappear. I want people to let me go. I don't feel safe at night. Everything shouts at me. My body is too big, so I can't hide. I can't run, because I'm too tired. I can't stay, but I have no where to go. I want to scream, but I have no voice left. I have been armed for this battle, and I've been left to fight alone. I want nothing inside me. I want to be empty. I want to look empty. I don't want people to care about me. I don't deserve it. I've made so many mistakes. I feel like this is punishment for all of the mistakes I've made. I've been such a stupid stupid girl. I'm not okay, and I am not going to be okay. I want to surrender to everything. I want to sleep and not wake up. I hate these feelings. I want to be locked in a tower. I want to be alone. But at the same time, I'm terrified of what I'll do to myself if I'm alone. I want to cry until I dissolve. I want to pull at myself until my seams split apart. I want to run and run and run. I want to do so many things. But all the while, a voice inside my head is singing a soft lullaby you can't do this, you can't do this, you can't do this, you can't do this.

So the hype of the New Year has died down, and everything is cascading back to normal. This can only mean one thing... SCHOOL IS LOOMING!

If, like me, you have already returned to school, I hope you have had a successful start to your term. Once you wipe the crust from your sleepy eyes and tame your bed hair into submission, early mornings can be quite enjoyable, with the company of your fellow friends that is.

Almost every student adopts the challenge of 'getting organised' at the start of every term. These goals may include joining four clubs, getting 90% in Maths, or studying for three hours every night. While some goals might appear realistic, you need to suit goals that are obtainable and relevant to you. Hopefully this post will help you to set fair and plausible goals, as well as get your brain back into school mode!

Setting goals should not have to be a chore. It is simply a list of ways that you wish to improve yourself, and build on your strengths and weaknesses.

This list is entirely personal, and you do not have to share it with anybody. You can write it in a journal, type a memo on your cellphone, or even make a mini poster. Whatever will make you remember and stick to your goals.

I like to set goals that will develop both myself personally. For example, setting up a regular workout routine, committing to doing more community service, or developing a skill can all help in the development and actualisation of self.

I also like to set goals that build on my strengths and weaknesses. Setting goals for the marks you want to achieve in different subjects are a great example. Be specific in how you plan to achieve these goals, and monitor them throughout the course of the term.

• Diarise, diarise, diarise