Friday, 31 May 2013

In an instance

In and an instance life can can/ and that change can never be challenged or undone. We are for thrust into the light time by time . But change. Changing has not time.deAl made an and now a past event. 

Last night and day wasnt soo good for me. I tried to change. I thought it all through. And then made some bad decision on myself because everything fell apart and I don't want her haunting me dreams. I had a lot of thinking to do. And decided  a few extra pills here there and very tired fell asleep and then woke up in hospital ...... 

Tune in next blog for some serious excitement!

Thursday, 30 May 2013

Fading in the dark.

Once upon a time there was a girl, lets name her Scarlett. Scarlett wasnt fat, she was healthy, she had beautiful long blonde from the sun hair, she liked to water ski, hydroslide, run cross country and netball. She was sporty but querky. Scarlett could talk to anyone and make friends day in and out. She never had "normal" friends to be with every day because she was a little weird. She was energetic and spontaneous. People always left Scarlett's world, she never complained or juggled but took it in her stride. 

Suddenly one day, Scarlett overheard a conversation about someone she looked up to had died. Scarlett had never really faced death until this terrible time. This was the day Scarlett died. Scarlett found poison and razors. She lost the fight and began to fade in the dark. Her world fell apart day by day the struggle continued. Her soul was gone and yet she was still standing upright. The constant pain of emptiness was bottomless as if she was constantly falling through the ground. Scarlett could see the world passing by without her. Scarlett tried to scream for people to notice her. If someone turned as if to hear her scream she began to wonder if she could trust people, as they always leave taking everything with them. Scarlett thought to herself if she kept to herself and didn't invest in others she would be safe and never put in the vulnerable position death can put you in. But Scarlett didn't realize at this time. She had died. A part of her was buried and gone. She was never to be the same again. The sporty fun querky girl was dead. Scarlett was something new, something unworthy. Something invisible. Scarlett fought to stay in contact  with reality but failed.  An evil dragon invaded her soul and filled her life with demons instead or angles. 
Scarlett didn't sleep but was never awake. Stuck in time. To feel nothing. Empty as brand new casket. The demons tormenting an empty body were the only things weighing her in the world. Scarlett had to learn to make friends with the demons and stand beside them.
 Piece by piece,  Scarlett continued to fall apart. 
Who was she suppose to be? What was she suppose to do? With everything out of control and the spiral of agony she was caught in was endless. 
Scarlett began to cut herself with glass, with razors, with anything she could find. Cutting made her feel connected and the demons were all too encouraging. 
Scarlett often found herself in the cemetery. Wondering the paths of bones. Scarlett was not afraid. The demons looked after her. Sometimes thy would watch the stars until dawn or count the souls present, all but hers. 
The cemetery was almost a hide and seek game. 
Unfortunately Scarlett was never to find her soul again. 

The day Scarlett died was not the end of her life, but the end of her soul.  


Sunday, 26 May 2013

Sudden death

Catch up blog is soon to come. Tomorrow I catch my flight home com the Gold Coast. It's been a good week away from the stressors of everyday life. I have had photos with spongebob and a walrus, swam with dolphins patting them and listening to them make noise, ive gone shopping, to the movies to see a Ryan gosling film and now just watching the footy. 
Today in fact at Pacific fair shopping centre I fainted and was found by a security guard. Embarrassing moment for sure, and on poured the question about eating, medications etc et what seems mylife revolves around. I had intact missed a dose by my blood pressure is low anyway. The medication dose I missed causes dizziness too so it's catch 22.

Some one messaged me to let me know a girl from my town died in her sleep. It's a horrible tragedy and leaves me thinking " so God will take her life but int take mine?" So maybe my time is not up yet. She was also best friends with an old friend I haven't spoken to for over a year but I've sent her messages to let her know I'm thinking of her. I had always wondered who from my era of school was going to be the first to die if not me. 
So many questions in need of answers. 

Blog soon xx 

Monday, 20 May 2013

Quick fix

Having trouble sleeping so thought I would clear my head by putting thoughts to words and announcing my turmoil. 
My housemate and I have an inspection tomorrow so we were just rushing around cleaning and shoving items here and there then cleaning my room pushing everything under the bed. Works a treat and now the unit is partially presentable. 
It is said to rain tomorrow, I have to get up early and attend my group therapy across the other side of the city, so after a lovely hour and half on the bus ill have to walk in the cold and raining weather. 
Supposedly raining Wednesday too which should cause some turbulence on my flight to QLD for a holiday with my brother mum and dad. My mum and I are going to swim with dolphins. My family is beautiful and all I see is ugly. I don't deserve to have such a family. God has blessed me and even still I can't be thankful and appreciate them and please them because I'm selfish. Suicide is selfish. 
QLD, Gold Coast holds significance to our family as every year from age 4 to 13 we went on a yearly holiday to the Gold Coast before we graduated to USA trips. So going back to QLD and staying in the first hotel we did the first time is amazing. From age 4 now to 19. That itself will probably make me depressed and ever since I was told today (because my parents flew up today) they are staying on the 14th floor, and a jump from that height should be enough to kill me.
It's all I can think about, so I will just stay on my meds. Eat healthy. Drink water and breathe. I'm daunted because I see this holiday for a week and then  what? Back to reality? Back to nothingness? Back to being the worthless piece of shit I am. I wish I could hold onto the innocence I childhood. That will be the main depression pull down I think of QLD of what is the past and you can't change but you can move on. So maybe a break is all I need to regain strength to come back fighting for a life worth living. My mind, a suicidal mind struggles to look ahead of time, to determine times and dates is pleasure, but after that you are left with nothing because you can't see what's around the corner. What the next day will bring because you might not be alive to live it. And you can't live your life with one quick fix of an event after another, or is that all life is? Life is what you make it they say, well life can be ended purposely, mistakingly, accidentally and the most common fear. Fear is the end all in life. 

I think I have said enough morbid philosophy examples for one night... 

Sorry about the burden casted,
Peace Sarah-Kate 

Disney Blab

I blogged earlier about a certain band shaping my life in a way and helping me cope with the wounds of the world. Another contributing factor that makes me who I am is I proudly say Disneys 'The Lion King'. In a way haven't all the Disney movies and dreamworks raised us ninety kids in a way. They were friends we could keep forever and still can, when we are down we can put in an old video and be brought back to simpler times when we weren't aware of War, crime or emotional pain. Let Disney be our refuge.

I watched that damn Lion King movie so many times, more than knowing the words to the songs or the animals and importance of the storyline which is typical, Good triumphs over evil. I learnt the meaning of life through the circle of life. Bad things happen in life and there's nothing you can do about it, so why try? is what Simba learns then comes along Nala and convinces him to take his rightful place as king. This gives Simba hope and he realises family is important as in obligation to his pride. I failed to take this part of the story. Whether Simba was on the right or wrong side its almost similar analogy to aim low and avoid disappointment/Don't try and avoid problems/pretending you don't know something is easier then dealing with it. I became a liar. My parents probably knew, my family probably knew, as I was a copy cat then trying to grow up only tried to amount to other people. I have always been happier by myself, you can't trust anyone else. All the faces I've lied to and I don't really care. It's in the past and you can't change the past.
I am not sure if I'm trying to blog a point or what I am trying to do.
My life seems so sad and yet I have so much more then people worse off.

You can compare yourself to the richest in life and feel like you have nothing, or you can look at the poorest in life and say you have everything.

One quote that also stays with me, I can't remember exactly how it goes, it's in the Bible somewhere I believe but when your scared of what's in front of you and ashamed of what's behind you, look up and let God guide you.

Peace, Sarah-Kate 

Saturday, 18 May 2013

Ana mind content: warning crazy

I know it's stupid, completely dumb intact and yet the thoughts evade me. The thoughts intrude my mind until its like an alternate person consumes and erodes me. I'm talking about the infamous Anorexia Nervosa, or you might know her as Ana or the demon within. She guilts your every meal you every move. She weights you down on the scales and penetrates your reasonable mind. Ana is with me tonight. First it was just suicidal thoughts then self harm thoughts and now I'm led back to Ana. She likes to win. I binged on Sushi today. Really if my only binge is sushi I shouldn't worry and yet Ana does. A chip is the equivalent of an apple which is the same as one pop corn. Liquid is liquid and food is food, simple yet uncomprehending. If you have never met Ana, none of these words will speak to you. But if you have met her I pray for you to challenge her. It's hard. Hopefully see you on the other side, like those Bupa adverts, find a healthier you, find an Ana-less you. ;)

Peace Sarah-Kate 

Thursday, 16 May 2013


Time for another blabber sesh!
Now that I have dropped out of study and don't have a job I have all this free time to spend however. My aim was to spend the time towards my health so one thing I have done is deactivate my Facebook account. So far so good, if I am looking for something to scroll I go on Pinterest. Who doesn't have Facebook these days? Not many I can assure you and it feels weird not to have it but at the same time I don't miss it. All Facebook ever did was cause me trouble and make me angry by looking at others posts and pictures. Why do I car if your dog has a new toy or you've checked in at Hungry Jacks. Good for you! I don't give a shit!
Texting was the old problem now people would rather be on Facebook chat then actually message people. Facebook is not private and offers the chance for others to interact with to whom they may usually. That's the great thing about Facebook, don't get me wrong, I think Facebook is great, I just don't want it consuming moments of my life unnecessarily.
And what's with all the porn posts and 'like' posts. Talk about drive me insane!! Just what I wanted, porn in my morning breakfast. See Facebook is like the younger generation of the daily paper, only a whole lot worse spelling and actual dramas.
If your reading this, I challenge you do go from Monday to Thursday without Facebook and see how you cope. These are the days you will less notice because you will be focussed on work or other commitments.. unless you are me in which case, blog!

What spiked my interest today to write this blog? Well a girl told me the other day when she found out I didn't have Facebook said how am I going to meet people? What? Because meeting people on Facebook is so real? hundreds of your friends you wouldn't usually talk to in person. I laughed because that is pathetic if not having Facebook my biggest problem is not 'meeting' people. Technically I would be approving friends. How awkward is it Facebooking someone then meeting them in person and if you meet someone in person its "do you have Facebook?" Or "Add me on Facebook?"
I am officially ashamed to be apart of this generation. Im a 90's child but by being so can see the changes occurring for the younger generation which have ALWAYS had google. No floppy disks, pixelated anyting, Nintendo 64 and James Bond, Blues clues and so much more.
Back to Facebook and selfies and tagging and all this other crap. Why do we have this? Is the world about to end? I saw on TV last night the sun is suppose to burn another 5000,00 billion years still
so that's out of the picture but seriously what is our generation going to look like in a nursing home
? All these damn tattoos and piercings and spacer things in ears. Is their an age limit to Facebook? How can people be expected to give it up as they get older if they have grown up with it and know nothing else, like how to start a real conversation or know a good movie, none of this Avatar bullshit and Iron man crap. (I hate Sc-Fi if you couldn't tell). the more I type the more I am shaking my head in disbelief of this world.

I could rant on and on about Facebook, compare pros and cons, and how the habit is addicting but I wont waste my time because I bet you would rather be on Facebook then reading this.

If I get "1.K likes" I'll stop blogging.


Peace, Sarah-Kate 

Wednesday, 15 May 2013

How did I become this sarcastic suicidal being?

How did I become this sarcastic suicidal being? Funny story.
When you meet someone you ask questions about them but those questions only go skin deep not psychologically, no one asks why you are wearing a green shirt over red, anyway my point being, what I am about to share some people may vaguely remember others I don't usually share, in fact very rarely say. Instead of drugs or some normal rebel habit, when I was aged 13 and faced my first close death to the family, my nana I did not know how to respond, but the way I did has shaped me to who I am, if I am anyone at all. Friends after that summer said I had changed. I denied I had changed then but can see it now. I developed more than on obsession with the band My Chemical Romance. Front Man Gerard way, brother Mikey, Frank Iero, Ray Toro (to whom birthday I share which made me think it was fate) and drummer Bob. The words these men sang and spoke became my every breathe, every thought and every movement. I wore black because they did, I went liberal because Gerard did, I got obsessed with coffee and Starbucks because Gerard loved Starbucks. All my passwords and account names had something to do with the band. I listened to the Black parade, 14 songs before  I went to sleep, I could not sleep if I didn't, It became a ritual. I had a book of all their lyrics. Every time I went on the computer I would copy picture after picture, I learnt to play their songs on piano. I bought several copies of their CDs because they had alternative covers. I bought badges, shirts and covered every inch of my room in posters. I could not get enough.
Every since of be was an obsession and now eight years on I can trace things about me back to either Gerard of MCR. Funny in a way. The obsession probably lasted two years. and now only a month or so ago the band broke up after their fourth album was released. I was disappointed in their fourth album as I was so madly in love with The black Parade that NOTHING could compare to it. Even Three cheers for sweet revenge called to me.
On their tour DVD Life on the Murder scene Gerard quotes the band saved his life and is there to save other peoples lives. My Chemical Romance is a band that wants to save your life, and well It saved mine then and now I'm going through harder things and I seem to be listening to them more and once again they are pulling me through. I can't imagine my life without their influence and so blessed to be a fan. THANK YOU MY CHEM!! I will always love you.

So that was my life age 13 to 15...  But what happened after that? Well I will tell you but from here on in, it's a dim slippery slope to damnation.
Well I have never been one of those people with really close friends but this was proved more dominant. If I wasn't sitting alone in class I was sitting alone at break. Group to group was the same discussing the latest 'Twilight' novel or who posted what on Facebook. Everyone was a fake or an imitation of what they wanted to be not who they were. Pretty sure I was just another speck of dirt on the cement, well that was how I felt anyway.
So while more and more people kept leaving my life I was left to myself. The depression grew and grew until I was planning my suicide whilst I was cutting and then I was offered a job and I left school. I hated school so much, leaving was the best thing I ever did, but still nothing changed how I was on the inside. A year went past as I battled then once I turned 18 and safely knew my parents could not find out.
Doctors to hospital to stiches to blood spilled to admissions to medication to overdoses.
Bringing me to the present moment. I am currently on in the morning 200mg Sodium Valporate, 100mg quetiapine, 30mg excitalopram, then at lunch 200mg quetiapine, if need be Lorazepam, Oxazepam, Temazepam, then at night 200mg Sodium Valportate, 300mg quetiapine XR.


Tuesday, 14 May 2013

Failed school assignments

High school is around 4 years behind me now but I still carry my first flash drive which holds essays I thought were of good quality for a pass in English comms class, though a certain south African teacher that didn't understand the difference between woman and women, disagreed and continued to fail me until i was put in time out for an entire term......


I want to share some assignments, articles and essays that I put a lot of time into and really pained me when I failed. After my term spent in time-out I had no guidance in my plot or any part of an essay so possibly it is my fault after all I'm just a failure. 
Sorry now I'm having a breakdown trying to retype everything because I've confused myself too much. I need to step away from the below stressors and allow 
Yourself to try....... 

I welcome you to read them, to help me understand. 

Hopefully I am making sense now or else will update again 

Peace, Sarah-Kate 

.  Please read and if any comments please I would appreciate any. Not begging lol 

Stories, notes and poems included to give insight as to personality and thoughts that are consuming beyond day dreaming. There are more written that have not been included, these are just interesting pieces found on a flash drive; like a diary found in a forgotten library. The way the mind of a Borderline you would have figured out by now is confusing. These are scriptures before diagnosis; confronting thoughts of a confused teenager trying to make sense of the world.


It was strange, the way the bird flew around in the air, squawking at nothing. Damn Seagulls, I thought. I watched carefully. The bird was alone headed away from the sun continuously squawking at nothing. No wonder people shot them.

Back in the day birds in cages, canaries I think were taken into the mines, and at the smell of any dangerous gasses or toxins the bird would either make a noise or die instantly. As far as I know the system worked well for humans but not so good for the birds.

By the ay the bird flew I thought was not aimlessly, but from something. To warn other birds or make a good target for a rock or bullet?

Sunset was coming over the head of the hills and as I took one good look at the sun set glistening against the sky setting rays of sickening orange and red  in continual endless patterns.


The walk home ended in silence and darkness. Not a sound was made to be heard.

When I walked through the front door, my mother didn’t look up at me, as usual. I can’t say I expected her to but every now and again it would be nice to be welcomed home from school. Instead my mother just sat there by the television, glass of scotch in hand, cigarette in the other waiting for Dad to come through the door perhaps. Even I knew he was not coming home, but Mum refused to accept or even hear the words. I admire her for that, still holding onto something so lost that is beyond ever going to happen.


To my room I quickly venture, drop my bag have a shower and head to the kitchen. Mum is still in the same seat, the glass of scotch slightly lower, if I make too much noise she will yell at me, maybe hit me.

I make my usual sandwich, eat at the table; though mum is at lost I still believe to uphold household manners.

After my meal I pass through the room she is constantly sitting in and make my way to bed. That is our daily, ‘on the clock’ routine, it does not differ.



When I woke up this morning, I was unaware of how the day was going to end.  This day was a very important day for me, in two aspects. 

Today, I woke up hoping to fulfil my dreams. When in the end, I became one.

The second I woke up, I immediately knew what day it was. It was Saturday, the last day of the week and the only day I had been planning for months.

I was diagnosed with terminal leukaemia almost a year ago, shortly after my Father died of the same disease. It was only as of his death that my family and I were tested. Out of my four siblings, only I was diagnosed. The disease is not even considered hereditary and yet I managed to develop it.

I blame no one.

My mother was broken by this fact, she blames herself. As if losing my father wasn’t enough for her, as a month later, she was told she was going to lose me.

As of that fatal day, my mother has practically ignored my siblings and devoted her time into helping me complete my dream to win a beauty pageant. The dream sounds stupid, I agree. It is all I have wanted in life as long as I can remember. Now, barely sixteen, it is all I can think about.

Months, my Mother and I spent ages searching for dresses, perfecting hair style and practising talents. I hadn’t had to worry about school; I felt more a burden to my ‘class-mates’ than anything. 

My brothers and sister sat in the back of the car for the three hour drive to the location of the pageant. It was in the Grand hall, far west of the city, almost at the ocean.

I had never been there before and the moments I spent there today were assuredly not wasted.

From the car into my dress, I felt like a princess. Although my bones were frail and my skin ghostly pale, I felt almost unique. My dress was sky blue layered with further blue frills to the ground, rounding off at the knees, so it was possible to witness my shiny silver brand new stilettos. I had refused to cut my hair from the day I was diagnosed. Now, reaching my lower back, I wore my dark hair in lose curls, falling all around my body. Carefully topped off, with a small silver hair piece, to add the ‘princess look’.

 When I looked in the mirror I really felt ‘pretty’. A lot different to how I feel now, lying in my hospital bed, my death bed; with my previous day, flashing through my eyes.

I was crowned - having won talent section by painting and runners up position as presentation. My painting was of ‘Joan of Arc’ acting in a war scene. Joan of Arc was my hero, burned to death hundreds of years ago as a witch, I find her inspirational for all women. Ironically I was named after her. My painting was found motivating and creative to the audience and judges. I dedicated the painting to my Father, the one who taught me to paint and the one who I had inherited my artistic strive from. “Oh, The irony” would be his exact words.

A proper crown was placed on my head, as queen for the painting, and a sash over my shoulder. The standing ovation had made me shudder. Off stage, I became over-whelmed when I collapsed into a state I was not to recover from.

My last views were of the Pageants audience, the hospital doors and my mother’s blotchy red face.

My organs are now shutting down, as I fail to move, lying with my eyes shut. I am a prisoner to my body; the pain is immense as no matter what I do, I can’t release a movement or word. I can feel my Mother’s hand in mine, squeezing constantly. I want to thank her for all she has done for me, or just to squeeze back. She is talking to me slowly and calmly, though I cannot speak back. It’s as if I am being burned at the stake like ‘Joan of Arc’, nobody cares for screams she let out, or the screaming in my head. What and all that is heard, is acknowledged, as the day past: the day just lived.

My mother has said it is okay to leave her; she will meet me again one day. I’m not sure if my brothers and sister are in the room. All I can hear are the last words spoken to me on Earth by my Mother, “Goodnight, my love, my beauty queen’.




It is with great sorrow we are seated in this church today. We have lost a member of society, a friend, a brother and a son. Spencer was all these things and he cherished every moment.

It is a tragedy to lose such a young person who had so much to live for.

Spencer will always remain in our thoughts and hearts, for who he was and the role he played in each of our lives can never be forgotten.


Spencer was our only child and I will never forget the day I gave birth to him. It was a stormy night and the rain pelted down. I was already eight days overdue before I went into labour in the middle of this night. My husband Liam drove me straight to the hospital, we were so afraid we were not going to make it in time as there was trees covering more than half the roads. Once we made it to the hospital, the doctors were concerned there would be a blackout, adding to my anxiety. That night I gave birth to my first son, Spencer Cain Kenneth. He was the only baby in our town born under Hurricane Luke, and led to him being affectionately known as Hurricane Spencer.


From the time Spencer was a child, he had an affinity with dogs. He would spend hours attempting to teach our neighbour’s dog Suey various tricks. I will never forget the smile on Spencer’s face the day we brought home Hanky. It was our first night with the puppy home and he was spending it in the laundry. Throughout the night the scatter of paws could be heard on the tiles but, strangely, no barking. No one, not even Spencer, was allowed to tend to the dog throughout the night to allow him to settle. The following day, the laundry door was opened to find our puppy all curled up in broken tissues. Hanky had spent the entire night chewing through the tissue box stash making himself comfortable. It amused Spencer to then name the new puppy Hanky. Hanky, though old, is still alive today and lonely wanders the house in search of his best friend.


I have to say that Spencer’s teenage years were as big a challenge as was his birth. Liam and I, together with his teachers, were amazed at how far Hurricane Spencer got, despite all the time he spent escaping from the school grounds. He was not afraid to try new things. We always told him if he put in as much time as he did into escaping he could go far in life. Spencer did not want to go ‘far’, he wanted to live life. For every test he failed he would say ‘I had better things to do’. For every test he passed he would say ‘I needed that’. Spencer had a plan- despite his rebellious ways he made that plan work for him.

Spencer successfully completed high school and was accepted into university to study veterinary science. This was a shock for all of us. “It’s all part of the plan” was all Spencer said after he got accepted.


The most amazing things about Spencer were his core values of courage, dignity, fun and hope. He never let anything or anyone stand in his way. He never let teachers, parents or even friends tell him how to live his life. He never took no for an answer. The words ‘no’, ‘impossible’ and ‘limitations’ were not part of his vocabulary. Spencer lived by the words of John F. Kennedy “Things do not happen. Things are made to happen.”

No one could comprehend or begin to understand the plan Spencer had. Our son knew what he wanted and only he could make that happen. It was a hurricane every time he came through the door. A hurricane we will forever miss.


It is a tragedy for this young life to be cut short when it seemed to have only just begun. It is unlikely for a child with autism to become independent and achieve a successful career. He did so well after being challenged in this way defying the odds. I believe Spencer would have no regrets for the way he lived his life and that he would not want us to mourn him for long. He would not want us to let his passing prevent us from living our lives. Let Spencer always be in our thoughts and hearts. Let us leave today not sad, but filled with hope.


Spencer would want us to walk away from here and not let another day pass without learning or trying something new. The next time you are asked to go somewhere, to try something, or to have a go, instead of saying no, say yes, for Spencer and experience the joy of living.


“If nothing is ventured, nothing is gained” -words of Spencer Cain Kenneth.


To what extent does the film ‘Sophie’s Choice’ accurately portray the events of Holocaust?

The film ‘Sophie’s Choice’ identifies and portrays events of the Holocaust to a heart-wrenching extent. Sophie is a Holocaust survivor who was sent to Auschwitz with her children.  Sophie’s survival of the Holocaust was possible because of her Aryan features, fluent German and jobs she worked when interned. Sophie is heart-broken and forever haunted by the choices she made throughout the war affecting the loss of her children, to which influences the title of the film.

The film ‘Sophie’s Choice’ accurately portrays situations and devastation in Auschwitz during the Holocaust to the extent of Sophie working for a high ranked officer. Auschwitz was the major crematorium camp of Nazi Germany. The film ‘Sophie’s Choice’ shows Sophie’s journey to and arrival of Auschwitz. The film shows no evidence of escaping fate of Auschwitz for any person sent there. The unfortunate mistake of Sophie’s arrest leaves her in Auschwitz despite the position of her Nazi Father and her Catholic beliefs. A brief tour of a part of Auschwitz is given as Sophie is walked past blocks of cells before brought into the house of an officer.  The officer, Rudolf Höss, portrayed in ‘Sophie’s Choice’ is historically accurate as being a Nazi officer. ‘Sophie’s Choice’ accurately portrays events of the Holocaust occurring at the existing Auschwitz and from the devastation and confusion she experiences upon her arrival at the camp to the distressing extent of Sophie witnessing the prisoners left in cells with no water or food for days before being murdered in the gas chambers.

Survival of World War two and Auschwitz during the Holocaust is portrayed to the extent of Sophie given the tragic choice of choosing between her two children.  Survival during the Holocaust was dim for those as prisoners in camps. Life or death of one person came down to a Nazis decision of who would live and who would die. On arrival of Auschwitz, Sophie is lined up straight off the train with her two children Jan and Ava, whilst a Nazi officer stops to comment on Sophie’s beauty and Aryan features. Sophie then pleads she is a Catholic and her arrest was a mistake. Her pleas are useless as the officer mocks her faith and because of her outburst states “You may keep one child”. Sophie is shocked by this and cannot believe the situation. “I cannot choose! I cannot choose!” she cries in German to the officer continuously. Her efforts are worthless as in the moment the officer says “Both will then die”. As the officer reaches to take both children from Sophie, she panics and makes the ultimate decision of giving up her “Little girl”, Ava. Ava is then taken away to a crematorium, leaving Sophie in distress of her daughter’s death. Sophie is never to see her son again after the selection at the end of the line from the trains and is unaware of his survival or death.  Sophie was lucky enough to be healthy to work as a secretary for two days in a Nazi house, supplying her with food, water, a shower and shelter for survival. Sophie’s existing qualities of secretarial skills, Aryan features and fluent German made her capable of the job in the Nazi office. On acquaintance to the Nazi officer, Sophie tries to convince him of her mistaken arrest and asks for him to investigate if her son is alive as he would be the perfect candidate for the ‘Lebensborn program’. Sophie’s choice portrays events of the Holocaust by Aryan features, German language skills and secretarial skills being key advantages for survival during the Holocaust; this is accurately portrayed to the devastating extent of both Sophie and the Nazi officer choosing what child to die.

‘Sophie’s Choice’ accurately portrays to a dramatic extent the cruel deaths and losses occurring throughout the Holocaust. After the emotional loss of Sophie’s daughter Ava and the unknown whereabouts of her son Jan; Sophie is left with no children. Sophie’s Father, a Nazi sympathizer and co-creator of the ‘Final Solution’ was unlawfully shot dead by the Gestapo.  Sophie’s husband Josef, who was an associate of her Father at the University where they worked, was also shot dead by the Gestapo. Sophie’s entire family was killed, leaving her with no one.  During the flashbacks of Sophie’s time at Auschwitz, death is shown by people being randomly selected from the selection lines, shot on the spot and chosen to die in the gas chambers. No mercy is shown by Nazis for example the response of Rob Höss’s wife, once witnessing Sophie standing in her kitchen, her comment of “The children are in perfect health”, implying Sophie’s ‘Jewish blood’ is lethal; this response is relevant historically to how the Jews were portrayed as something ‘unnatural’ and ‘infectious’. The film ‘Sophie’s Choice’ portrays events of unlawful deaths throughout the Holocaust accurately to the extent  of  demonstrating, despite Sophie’s Father and husband being Nazi supporters, were still killed by the historically existing Gestapo. 

The post war aftershock Jews felt is portrayed throughout ‘Sophie’s Choice’ to the tearful extent of her passionate suicide. The emotional affect left on Sophie from the Holocaust leaves her vulnerable and welcoming of her new spouse Nathan; who she praises for ‘saving her life’. Sophie devotes the remainder of her life to Nathan who is a Jew “obsessed with the Nazis escaping justice”. Sophie does not show any interest in sharing her past with Nathan therefore consumes herself with his presence despite her unawareness of Nathan being a paranoid schizophrenic. Sophie is taunted and afraid of claims that she is unworthy of living because of her past choice between her children. Sophie finds comfort in the poem by Emily Dickinson ‘Ample make this bed’; which ironically is how Sophie first came into contact with Nathan.  The film ‘Sophie’s Choice’ portrays the aftershock victims of the Holocaust felt accurately by the vulnerable bond formed between Sophie and Nathan, having created their own little world in which they live.

The film ‘Sophie’s Choice’ successfully identifies and portrays events of the Holocaust to a deeply emotional extent. Sophie’s journey tells us keys to her survival of the Holocaust in Auschwitz; how she was faced with the unthinkable decision of choosing between her only children; the hope she held of her sons survival into the ‘Lebensborn program’; the pain and guilt in the aftershock she felt from her decision and the known fact of the death of her entire family; leaving her to immigrate to America where she rebuilt her life around Nathan. Questions are posed as to what if Sophie had never met Stingo? Whether Sophie would not have been convinced of the death she felt she deserved, or having continued to live, hiding her past by embracing Nathan, if she had never met and confided in Stingo; who was the prime cause of the confusion of an affair between Stingo and Sophie which lead to Nathan’s schizophrenic outburst influencing the passionate suicide Sophie and Nathan then commit. Stingo is of no portraying relevance to the Holocaust, as are Sophie and Nathan fictional characters. ‘Sophie’s Choice’ is a likely example of a devastating occurrence during the Holocaust.

Word Count: 1,190                                                                                            Written By Sarah Copeland.




The novel ‘Sophie’s Choice’ by William Styron, Published 1979


Internet Movie Data Base, IMBD, dates viewed – 22nd May 2010, 7th June 2010, last updated- 31st March 2010, < >


Answers Corp, AC, Melodie Monahan, Critical Essay on Sophie’s Choice, Thomson Gale, date viewed- 7th June 2010, last updated- 2006 < >



It is hard to explain exactly what I am thinking right now. I have a full time job that pays poorly. I am 18 years of age. I did not finish school. I have no other recognisable qualifications. I have a family I cannot feel for. I do not make time to spend in other people lives. I think the only reason I stay at my work is because I like the people I work with. The people I work with share the disrespect of customers and it’s amusing to talk about them as they leave the store.

It would be a waste of time to think about leaving this town because honestly I never will. I do not know anything else, I would have a different style of life to now and in a way too different that things may feel worse because then both places I could go to have negatives. I was always told I could do anything I like. I do believe that and I believe it is possible for everyone willing to try, hence my problem on not wanting to try. My reasoning for not wanting to try is nothing simpler then the fact I would eventually return in the same mind set and position I am in now, which makes me wonder is that all life is? Life just goes around in circles, but when does it end? What if we die? For example if we go around in circles we would come back a new, when you really think about it that is a contradicting statement towards life as it is not a game, you cannot just hit game over and expect to come back. But what does happen? Anything you want to believe. I respect other religions and anyone’s personal beliefs though I was brought up a Christian and I believe in heaven and in hell, in God’s judgement and his punishment. I believe I deserve to go to hell, so why delay my eternity there? You are probably thinking what one girl could do in 18 years that is so bad she deserves an eternity in hell. It’s simple, I sin, the same as majority of those who have already left this earth.

I need to stop rambling in thought as it is a constant waste of my time because there is no way I can record all my thoughts in a way someone will understand. God understands and I can understand why he would not forgive me. Sometimes I wonder if he put me in this position to do this act, obviously he did. I have already done so much I do not wish to do anymore.

I only want to die. That is what I want to do in life is die. I cannot see anything else. I want all trace of my existence erased. My parents only ‘love’ me because they help create this mess and have invested all this time and effort, what a waste it would be to see it go to waste, but what is worse? Living a waste of a life like this and dying anyway or getting it over and done with now.

I am not a good person. The way my mind works uncontrollably, it will never amount to anything of real worth. I have already decided against the purpose of having a child. No child deserves to have my genes and have the chance of inheriting this, or anything like this.

I cannot feel anything. I knew it was bad when I could no longer read a single page of a book without my might wondering off onto something compete irrelevant.

So why do I feel nothing? Numb. Psychically I do not react emotionally leading to the constant want of trying to harm myself, through hunger, blood and pain. Are the bruises all I’m worth? Will the scars ever fully heal? I thought God wanted me to die young. I had it all planned several times. I get the idea and then I can’t think of anything else. The thoughts completely consume me like a coin in a wheat silo. If I was to die young how come everything I do doesn’t seem to work or to follow through? 5 stitches, deep enough that fat was exposed but no main vein. Paracetamol more than my weight, plus added toxins of alcohol and all I did was sleep. It’s impossible. It is also impossible to have no feeling and yet, here I am.

It is like when someone dies. You have a funeral and say your good byes blah blah blah, and close the book. What the fuck. Just because they have died doesn’t mean that’s the end. That is stupid. The human race is a stupid race. We are all immature, stupid, cheated and sinful. Not a race sorry, because we have already established this is not a game. Why do we need closure? Closure doesn’t erase the fact they were always there, that that person existed and played some kind of roll in your life. Their life is gone, so why are they from yours? You say goodbye. You say goodbye when someone leaves. Well, they already left for wherever they were going and they didn’t say goodbye. So fuck them. They are gone from now but not from forever. Like if you dropped your favourite piece of jewellery in the deepest part of the ocean, there is no point jumping in, no point getting upset because either way you will not get it back, it was an event that happened and now it’s over and your left behind. So after this funeral, what, everyone is just fine and dandy? No one discusses their thoughts afraid of what emotions they may awaken in someone else. Why do those emotions erupt though? They erupt and do nothing, achieve didly squat but pain. Why are pain and emotion so hand in hand? Why do I question everything continuously without answer?

After a cry and a public display of emotion, it’s supposedly and expectedly out of your system and you move on to the burial. Why do we bother burying bones? Again, we are wasting are stupid time. That person is already gone and doing this will do nothing but erupt further emotions. The bones will soon disintegrate to nothing and their skin, organs and once living limbs will be eaten by worms and rot and mould to nothing. And now a place set literally in stone is permanently in the ground for you to go and release your emotions. When you want to remember and respect that person you go to that stone cold quiet site. When all it does is bring you pain, you can’t lift them out the ground because it is just reminding you how they’re not even there, sure something they once wore or maybe had some kind of possession. Wouldn’t you be better with that possession or if you could give it to someone who may appreciate it because really burying it in the ground does no one any good. The person is dead and not where you think you buried them and now you morn their possessions. How do you even know their ‘body’ was even in the coffin? How do you know the grave isn’t miss labelled? How do you know when you send someone away to be cremated they are actually cremated and you’re not sent dirt or wood ash? What difference does it make if they did send you dirt? None, it would certainly benefit the cremation company and the coffin building companies and they could save money as it wouldn’t be necessary for people to be around so much and care for them. What a job though, burning people for a living, just like Hitler. My point being all the people that would ultimately benefit are the ones who had no relation or connection to the deceased. You send the relatives of the deceased the dirt in a cup, completely oblivious to the fact it’s dirt because they don’t understand the truth, they don’t know to expect it, they go through all the grieving emotion as the human mind does. It’s like religion, people won’t believe because they don’t have ‘proof’. How do you have proof they burned your relative and your holding their ashes? How do you have proof that it’s their bones your standing on top of? How do you know they even died? Exactly the reason people die in my life all the time. I don’t need proof, I just need to decide. Is that person to be around or not, if they’re not their dead to me. They’re not coming back, though if they did it may be in thought which is exactly the same as if they were really dead, dead. But does anyone really truly die? I don’t believe they do, because wherever they are, however they are, they still existed, there was thoughts about them, they were involved in other lives. God wouldn’t waste a soul like that. If he wanted someone to die, die he would erase them from our memory, but would that erase all that they did? Then it would erase everyone back to the beginning of time, back to nothing. There are so many reasons why God is real and I want to get people to realise that, but really what difference does it make? God says every life counts, that every life you touch is special, meaningful and part of a plan. What fucking plan? We are all just a bunch of people wondering around aimlessly. We do what we do and we are who we are. We are constant, obliviously an oxymoron in time. Believe whatever the hell you want; you can’t change or control what happens in life, do what you want when you can because you can.

Another thing regrets. Do you people not understand regrets do not exist?! They do not! If you want to do something, recreate the situation, try again, just do it. For goodness sake, nothing enrages me more than someone saying they regret something because clearly, they thought about it and made a decision and if that decision they now decide was wrong and they would have benefitted the other decision, well too fucking late, you are done, decision made, live with it, and work with it and from it. What about the decision to die? We all will in time so does that give us the ultimate control if we take it on ourselves? No, because for every damn action there is some kind of reaction, thankyou Isaac Newton. We are still uncertain of what happens after death, and we are still uncertain of what would have happened in time if we had not made the decision we now regret. Does that make sense? We are constantly unsure of things and rely on faith, hence why the word ‘faith’ is called exactly that. We all need faith, and we all need to believe and pray for God to have mercy on our souls.

I understand so much and yet I question so much. I state and think too much. I am just wasting time with this because it’s not intended to be read. I am not sure what I intended to do with this cynical, incessant rambling. I believe that to be the reason I am continuing to type this useless statement because I can for me as a decision over no one else’s control, essentially  the simple logic behind every action any of us do.

 I say I wish to die, so why don’t I die? I say I wish to cut my brain out to stop my thought, so why don’t I? Now, the opposite of the equation, help me here and work your way back. What have I done towards myself that has stopped me from feeling anything inside? I feel the pain which I cannot says feels well and good because that is logically two different emotions. It is so hard to explain. I can see everyone else’s pain and I can choose to do something and react or not. If I react I will help, make worse, or bring on myself, ultimately becoming involved and doing something, but I’m not sure what. I don’t want to know what, so I won’t. I will be selfish and focus on myself like some kind of self-praising narcissistic person no one likes. By telling myself to react I realise when I think I am feeling something I am actually not. People have asked do you feel anything even for five minutes. And I said yes, but I now realise I was wrong, I pretend I do because that is what is expected in the situation. If I always act the way the situation is directed, where does that get me? I’ll be aimlessly floating around, just like our souls supposedly do in heaven if anyone ever gets there. Even angels fall out of Heaven, and if they fall out, what kind of hope do the rest of us have? We are all fucked from the moment we are born. Are we all just to feel and do as much as possible until we die, which we don’t know when that will be because we have no control! And if we all do as much as possible, achieve the world, learn, explore, create, imagine, become CEOs and important big shots or useless celebrities; we still die. We all die no matter what we do. Why are we trying not to die with all thse drugs and things? It is obvious dying is a part of life and if intended to happen regardless so let’s do it! Let’s die! Let’s do something we were actually meaning to do in life! I believe that to be the meaning of life, to die. As long as one person, just one person had apart or anything to do with you, your aim in life was completed. From the second you were born your reason was self-completed because your mother was expecting you, you came from two people meeting together. Fuck life is so complicated. And yet, I have written it out in plain English just for some random act. Nothing to learn from this as it is all things we should already know. As is everything we ever get taught, if we can get taught it well how come we don’t already know? We don’t really benefit from learning whatever we did. If we needed it we would have known it, like hunger or thirst or communication.  How does a spider know to make a web? How does a caterpillar to spin a cocoon? How does a lioness to hunt for a lion? And the aimless meaningless list goes on for infinity. I believe they knew because they needed to know. We breathe because we need to breathe to stay alive, we learn because we think we will get somewhere. When that somewhere is nowhere, where do we go? Why don’t we do anything? Maybe depression is not an illness but a part of life that should happen because it is meant to. Because depression is now more common because we are all too focused us are all going around in this circle again that the world goes around and if we don’t each kill ourselves we end up killing each other? We kill each other if we die, we kill each other if we intend to or not. On the inside we are all dead.

I want to die and stop wasting time. I want to die because I will kill other people. I will kill other people by being alive or dead with all the decisions I make. What’s that? It’s a circle again! Ever heard of the saying ‘what goes around, comes around?’, it’s actually what I believe to be a translation of something God intends us to believe that he will take care of things if we just live and try to be good. Try to be good. If we don’t try to be good and we try to be bad, we still die.

As soon as I stop typing it will be like I’m not here. Mentally I believe I am not here. I believe a lot of things. I think I have actually already killed myself, which would explain why I can’t die. I can’t die because I am already dead. I died a few years ago. I didn’t realise it at the time because it was natural to act in the situation therefore I didn’t pay attention to the fact I was acting. I notice after situation, I disregard them almost immediately as if they never happened. Dissociated from things that probably had an effect of some kind on that person I can’t change because it is not my decision.  Life is decisions. Life is death. Life is circular. Life is about aimlessly wanting things, and right now I want to aimlessly crack 3,000 words, so I will ramble further. Do we aimlessly want things or do we think we want things, we trick ourselves into thinking we do when really they will not benefit us. This is true as a perfect example when you’re a child you see something in the toy store and for no reason you want it. Ten seconds ago you did not know this item existed and now you’re consumed by it. You don’t get this toy and go home and think about all the things you could do with it and how helpful it would be. So after maybe days or weeks you get this toy somehow because you wanted it in life. You play with it maybe for a day and disregard it the next. All that time wasted. And now that money you payed and energy is gone, if regretted, too bad. And the circle repeats itself. Again and again until we want to finish school, we want to fail school, we want to go to university and study something that we think will benefit us or please someone else, maybe help someone else? It helps the teachers by attending and the government by enrolling, somewhere someone is affected. But how did they become the government or become a teacher? Do we really need them or can we just act in the situation?

We are all uselessly connected in a circle of death. The circle I am in now is I have completed my 3,000 words and yet could just keep going because it would be an endless mixture of words until I die because I will just keep having thoughts until I die. I will now make the decision to stop typing and to go to bed to where I will not sleep but lay, be cold, and stare at the roof aimlessly and ponder more things that will never be recorded in time. Even this incessant rambling will be forgotten, eventually I will stop typing and I will feel nothing from completing it as I feel nothing from doing it. I will then eventually fall asleep; more than likely have a nightmare and get up and go to work, without a useless thought or emotion of anyone or anything to do with this typo mess. By choosing how to act and be I will not now ramble about how I feel nothing at a cemetery at night, how I’m constantly picking my nails off for something to try and focus on, how I constantly obsessively pull this rubber band around my wrist as hard as I can to try and feel something to remind myself I’m dead, and how I really have no idea what the fuck is going on.

A brief moment in time.

Forgive me for being short. It's late and I spontaneously decided to create a blog. I always wanted to write a novel. I had written 36 pages before the file went corrupt and I was unable to retrieve the data. I took this as a message from God I was not meant to be an author. So instead of a book confessional I will now have a blogger confessional. I appolagise in advance now for any future bluntness, morbid talk, sarcasm, dry humour and honesty. I have no time for lies, the sooner an objective is met the better
. So where to begin? I'll give you the background info next blog but for now ill just state I'm in a fragile state. I came out of my third mental hospital admission last week and turned my world upside down. I have severe depression, borderline personality disorder which results in constant suicide ideation. I am on a bucket load of meds, from antipsychotics to antidepressants to anticonvulsants and anti anxiety. They do make things manageable.
Lately though after moving to the city from a small country town I thought things would improve but no, they have not.
I have as of last monday withdrawn from university. To gt to this decision my parents found out I was in hospital made it clear I was not coping and brough me back to our town because I'm a Dante to myself basically. I have toxic thoughts. And without medication I believe I would be dead. I still wish I was. Can always kill myself tomorrow. I can't think now what I'm writing about. My head is in the clouds. I'm not sure what to do with myself, I guess I'm hoping this blog helps me clear the fog infront of my eyes.
Oh I also attend a day hospital, across town every week to participate in a group therapy. It's 40 weeks and I've only done 13 weeks so I can talk about that if my blog is boring. I'm not sure if I'm writing this to be read or for myself? Much the same as I don't believe I'm Alive for me. I think I'm alive to honour my mother and father. I am a Lutheran and trust in God through the hard times even though I'm a desperate cutter. Countless scars and stitches. Pick your poison really.

That's probably enough to overflow anyone for one night.
May God Bless, Sarah-Kate