To My Oblivia

Around two years ago, I started an older version of this blog, that I named Organized Chaos. It was basically an outlet where I could babble about the joys of motherhood and also rant about how people keep giving me non-applicable advice, namely my in-laws.

I had problems then, but I was trying to talk myself out of dealing with them, facing them, or even feeling them. In that blog, I talked about my inability to forgive; about how tired I was from waiting for good things to happen; about how I felt my life was not going anyway like I planned; all in abstract manner, or at least that was what I thought!

A fellow blogger once told me she liked how I talked so openly about whatever crossed my mind and how she liked the way I made fun of everything. She had no idea I had that many issues, so I just told her I hid behind my alias and said the things I felt comfortable saying.

I remember I tried to let my anger and frustration out by talking about my marriage; I started a series of posts called “Diaries of an Angry Pregnant Woman”. I talked about my childhood and the years before I met him; I just couldn’t talk about him back then… probably because I was still trying to talk myself into staying in the marriage. I couldn’t just get it out in the open that I was badly hurt by him and somehow continue living with him.

I think shortly after I killed that project, I deleted my blog; I don’t remember why exactly, but I guess I was tired of not being able to channel any of my turmoil at that time. It was exactly a year ago when I deleted it. If memory serves, I deleted after I posted about my late nana; I think that was the closest I have come to talking about my personal pain.

Then I started an older version of this blog that lasted three whole months after I gave birth to my mocha. I named it My Oblivia to leave all the thoughts that haunted in my own oblivion, where I could just have them out of my real life, into the blogsphere; a place where they wouldn’t find their way back to haunt me, while on the other hand I could find them if I was ever ready to deal with them.

I deleted it because he asked me if I had a blog and that he wanted its address if I did. I lied about having a blog, and deleted it after we hung up because I hated having to lie the way he always lied to my face. This is how I punished myself for not being able to tell him the truth!!
After deleting the blog, my thoughts remained in my head depriving me of sleep and peace. I felt nostalgic to my little place that seemed to be more than just an oblivion, but a place I could somehow clear my mind… nostalgia and oblivion; two of my favorite words, two words that somehow contradict, yet made more sense together in my head.

It was where I spilled all my tears when he was playing all his sick games and emotionally manipulating me until I was drained. It was where I spent the first few hours of my 26th birthday shortly after he told me every possible hurtful word he could think of. It was the last time I had a death wish. Sad memories I know, but it was the time I finally decided to stop the abuse he subjected me to and return to who I once was; this makes up for how sad the memories are.

My blog was the way I found my way back to ME, at least one of the ways. I figured that if I missed my blog and cared about having it back more than I cared about my x, then I definitely did not need him in my life. This is why two days later, I revived my blog.

By the end of the same month, I came out. The more I wrote about my failure of a marriage, the better I felt, and the more I realized it was ok, and that it wasn’t as terrible as it felt when I kept piling the things I was unable to talk about except with a couple of people who were probably sick and tired of seeing me ache the way I did and unable to tell me to walk out because they were afraid they did not know better. Yeah, my sisters and my two best friends didn’t tell me it was time to walk out until I decided it on my own; I am grateful that way because I know it came from me.

People kept commenting and telling me the nicest and most supportive words, words I thought I would never really hear because my dear father was so afraid of the whole divorce procedure he decided to scare me! It’s ok, I know where he comes from and I know how badly it must hurt to see his big girl failing in what everyone viewed as a big achievement!!

Through my blog, I got to know some quite interesting people who didn’t know who I was, yet somehow knew me through all the things I wrote. It felt good to be heard and understood after years of me speaking to someone who never bothered listening.

I no longer had to hide from anything!! My Oblivia became who I am. The only reason I kept the name is because I wanted to always remember how I got here, and well, I am too lazy to think of something original.

I am not always in my best moods, but I am content and peaceful most of the time, which I think should be better than happy at some point. I know more hardships are meant to come my way one way or another, but I don’t care; not out of carelessness, but because I would like to believe that deep down I have found my strength, my peace, and most importantly my faith to overcome whatever awaits me. For that, I am thankful.

I am thankful for my father for doing the best he could to rise above his fears and prejudices.

I am trying to be thankful for my mother for her compassion that she hides for some reason under thick layers of insults and hurtful accusations.

I am grateful for Maat for waking up early in the morning to listen to my doubts and pat my back as she talked me out of them, although I turned out to be right after all!!!

I am grateful for my Goody for feeling for me that way she always does despite how she always says she’s apathetic. She’s not! She’s the most sympathetic person I have known, and it’s not because I know 7alaleef.

I am thankful for D, for the way she could just listen to me say nothing for almost an hour, and then tell me “I understand”; I miss her and I wish her nothing but the best, God bless her.

I am thankful for H for being with me on the phone saying all the prayers I needed to hear and making me repeat after her until peace found its way back into my heart. I try to show her that I am always here if she ever needs me; however, I don’t think I could ever pay her back.

I am thankful for G for making me laugh so hard when all I wanted was to cry. He’s in my prayers right next to my Nana.

I am thankful for B for always telling me the right words that would make me pause and think of the ways should be done… istikharas are the best :)

I am grateful for N’s beautiful email that helped me realize I wasn’t as radical as I was made to believe by him… N, you have a beautiful soul.

I am grateful for Will E’s Art Therapy recommendation; I never got the chance to see it through, but I got the chance to have a good friend.

There are more people for whom I am more than thankful. Some of them in my real life and some came from My Oblivia, but this was written to thank my blog for getting me out of oblivion to where there is light and hope of better days. Thank you My Oblivia, I wish I could promise I would never desert you, but such promises are silly, I’d rather promise that I will always be thankful.

** Did this just sound like one of those Oscar speeches?!!!!