April 30, 2008
Ok, cool, I’m a fast driver, and it was still early in the day and traffic was not expected to be a nightmare just yet. I drove all the way to downtown, Abdeen Square, drove into the street where the court is, and headed for that parking space where I usually leave the car (I find it sad that the dude in the parking recognizes me now). The parking was closed.
Almost 20 minutes and three rounds around the court house I started losing patience. I did not want to be late and have to apologize for it. Luckily a police officer noticed that I have been going all around so he pointed out a place a block behind, which was blocked by another car. He said that he will send someone to move it for me. On my way to the same place he pointed, just a block away, I found some man getting into his car, so I asked him if he was getting out, he nodded, so I told him that I will park in his place.
Like any civil person, I double-flashed, waited patiently until the guy started his car, and I could notice that every other person around was yelling “estana, hagy makanak”, but nooooo, this is my spot. As he left (FINALLY), I drove a tad forward to get into the parking space and baaaam, that idiot got into MY SPACE!!! And that was when I just “LA BA2A MAYENFAAAAAA3SH” in my loudest tone of voice, which basically came out sounding like a roaring wild animal right before it died (I have a bad cold that makes it sound a frog had died in my throat, that's what my dad said anyway)!!
YES, the guy backed out of the parking!!! Everyone in the street was practically telling him “etla3 etla3, seblaha el rakna”!! I heard random phrases questioning my sanity. I didn’t care, I got my space and I freaked a jerk who has no manners out of my space, yaaaay me. Apparently the phrase “hasawat we alem 3aleek el share3” has an effect, I think the jerk really feared I would do something of the sort!! I was happy it worked because my yelling was nothing but an expression of utter frustration, only my car window was opened and I was a bit loud!
As I got out of the car and slammed the door (sorry car), the guy started saying annoying crap, I took off my shades and gave him on long dirty stare and made it seem like I was about to walk in his direction, and just walked the other way into the court. I am almost sure he thought I was crazy.
Of course, I can barely say anything in an audible tone, sooty raaaa7. But it was totally worth it :))
So girls everywhere, want a parking space in Cairo, especially downtown, act crazy and start screaming like a mad woman, a guy or two are bound to freak out and give you their own parking space!! This is definitely a day where I liked being a woman :)
April 29, 2008
As I hung up, my dad asked me about the things she said, all I could say was “ana men kotr el kalam ma ba2a mostafez mesh 3arfa aftekro!! Ana mesh 3arfa howa mase7lohom mokhohom be asteeka wala homa elly 3alemooh yeb2a keda!!”
I think I have lost my ability to rant for now because it would include repeating what I have been listening to for the past 40 miutes, and it’s just exhausting right now!! I would like to think that I will get my ranting ability back soon enough, but until then…
Oh, I have a general wondering though…
When did people become so ignorant of what’s right and what’s wrong?? Yes, everyone can be subjective at a point, but when did it become the norm?? and when did it become an acknowledged fact that it’s ok to do wrong as long as you admit it to yourself, without having to rectify it or make up for it, and voila, you’re forgiven because you know you did/are still doing wrong?? When did people become so stupid defending themselves and their mistakes that they can literally contradict themselves within a short phrase???
Such people baffle me, and leave me with migraines and seriously disturbed blood pressure.
I guess I just ranted!
A friend of mine was telling me those two phrases as I was telling him about my disappointment in a certain friend who simply allowed herself to fall because she’s too fragile! “It’s the stronger people who survive you know”, and “but fragile people if not protected really shatter when whey fall”
I did not disagree then because I was too overwhelmed with my own feelings on the matter, until later that day, I went to pay my respects to my x-supervisor, S, whom her mom just died a couple of days ago.
S is one the strongest women I have ever seen; I personally find her strength inspiring. Here are the headlines…
She has polio, and yet she’s one of the most active people I have ever known, and she manages to remain fit so that weight problems would not make it harder for her to walk around.
She had breast cancer back when I used to work with her; everyone who knew cried so hard, but I remember how SHE used to call us and check on us before she went into surgery! Her strength and how she managed to survive the surgery and the chemotherapy yet still come to work and get things done was more than just admirable.
Shortly after her so called recovery, she fell on her good leg and had to undergo another surgery which practically caused her to stay home for a while; hence, being unable to distract herself by working. Even then when I visited, she managed to look strong and act strong, and not to mention motherly! I always said she was the mother I never had and the mother I would never want to have, I can’t live up to those expectations of hers, NO ONE can!
The cancer attacked again around last year and she had to do radiotherapy this time, still surviving alhamdulilah, God bless her.
I did not even begin mentioning her own personal problems, and boy does she have loads of those!!
Back at work someone once described her “heya el dynamo beta3 el sherka, men gherha e7na teroos bayza”, and it’s true; the days she was off because of her health issues, all of us suffered! She was the one who helped me and my colleague communicate with our boss who sometimes just made me jump up and down with extreme anger. She used to help him communicate with the legal staff who never gave him much –if any- respect.
Seeing her yesterday as she was telling her family what should go where and taking charge of most –if not all- decision making, I just couldn’t get her strength!! I was hugging her and she was asking me how I was, and if I am being as strong as she’s always known me to be!! ME, I can never NEVER be that strong. This woman has just lost a mother whom she loved dearly, whom she referred to as “the only true unconditional love life ever gave her”.
I don’t cry in wakes, unlike others, I find it rude to cry; I don’t know how it should help people if I cry. Yet I do not know how to comfort those who had lost people to death, I feel useless and I usually stare at the floor and avoid eye contact in such situations!! But looking at how everyone was counting on her and expecting her to be the strong one, and how they were not just taking her strength for granted, but also burdening her with arguments and questioning her decisions!! No one was patting her shoulder or trying to comfort her in anyway, because she’s strong!! It made me want to go sit next to her on the couch and tell her that she can be weak now, people will give her the space she needs if she just breaks down and cries; that I will make them shut up if they tell her to “be strong”!! That she should not worry about any of them pointing at her and saying “eh da S collapsed!!”!! But I didn’t, I was afraid I would make her feel even weaker inside and that she would feel more compelled to hide behind a stronger appearance.
I instantly hated her family for pressuring her into being strong when it seemed like she needed to feel weak. I judged them despite knowing that they are pretty decent and that they really love and value her.
So friend, in my opinion, the strong ones ARE weak!!! Only they are not allowed to show it… they suck it up and get their act together, and I think at some point it makes them feel even weaker inside.
Right now, I feel blessed for being able to cry my heart out and crumble on the floor of my room when it gets too much, then when I am done, I’d go splash cold water on my face and wear a smile and go by with my life.
I am afraid that sometimes I need to cry to someone, but I am too proud or I am trying to be strong!
Oh dear God, I don’t want to be the kind of fragile who would give up on living by my principles, but I surely do not want to be that strong. I do not want to feel weak inside yet hide it from myself because I feel obliged to keep a strong appearance, then fail to ask for the help I need.
April 23, 2008
on msn, after the heys and how are yous...
My cousin: how is your family, parents, sisters, kids, husband?
Me: all is fine… is your dad coming to egy this summer, I heard rumors!
Her: yeah, he most likely is, with his so called wife!
Me: she IS his wife, no?
Her: yeah she is, I just don’t like her, you’ll know what I mean when you meet her
Me: I asked because you made it sound like they haven’t gotten married yet, so called wife does not apply I guess, X is my so called husband tho!!(not knowing if she knows about my pending divorce, so I decided to test waters before I come out)
Her: yeah! So is it really a divorce???
Me: lol, so you know? hehe
Her: I kinda heard, just wasn’t sure
Me: how did u hear, I’m curious
Her: My brother S hinted it
Me: yeah it’s funny, he sent me a message on facebook asking me in the weirdest tone “r u ok” while he has been checking on every one else on their walls, I thought it was strange, but I didn’t dwell! So how did S know??
Her: I think cousin A told him
Me: lol, omG how did A know, we barely speak, I chat with strangers more than I contact him, and we exchange notes on facebook every now and then!!
Her: I don’t know!!
Me: I only told your brother O, and uncle G and just told aunt H a couple of months ago!!
Her: I don’t find it surprising, hehe, mesh awel marra!!!
Me: does your dad know tayeb, wala saybeeno ma7adesh 2allo?
Her: I think he does
Me: cool then; now I can ask him to remove X from his facebook friends and I can have all my family members who added him do the same :)
Her: but r u ok, you seem to be fine, r u?
Me: yeppp alhamdulilah, I am especially fine these days Kaman, will you be visiting with your dad?
Her: only if I can talk the husband into it
Me: hey come on, u haven’t vsisited since u got married, u know the way things should go, you bring him to meet the family here, they get to meet him and judge him and talk about the two of you behind your backs, then they give you their blessings and say “rabena yewafa2ek ya habibty”
Her: yeah I can’t wait…
The rest of the convo is rather private!!
Living in the states or not, my family is holding on so tightly to their Egyptian heritage :)
It was a good chat though, catching up, jokes, and simply a good family moment! I hope she visits this summer with my uncle. Hehe, I can have stuff purchased for them to bring :)
April 22, 2008
Me: *be7edda* na3am! Fe eh? What’s going on?
Him: *in his most cheerful tone* Ana bas bassaba7
Me: *impatient tone* saba7 el kheir, saba7 el noor, khalas?
Him: *the tone gets more cheerful* We 3ayez 2a2ollek 7aga Kaman…
Me: *the tone gets more impatient* kheir???
Him: ana olt afganistan eh webta3 eh, adawar 3ala shoghl fe masr a7san
Me: *trying so hard to contain the laughter* (tab mana 3arfa ennaha tamseleyea ya…) bera7tak, it doesn’t concern me
Him: *more cheerfulness!!* Ezzay ba2a, dana ha3od 3ashan ne work things out
Me: *still trying to contain the laughter, yet the tone also started to show impatience again* te work eh out, enta bethazzar!! (howa ana mesh hakhlas ba2a)
Him: ya (my name) dana a3ed fe masr 3ashanek, mastahelsh te32aly keda we tefakarry, tab 3ashan weladna
Me: (ya nahar sewed, da messada2 eno a3ed fe masr 3ashany) ba2olak eh, 2e2fel el sekka, yalla yalla, abl mate2leb ghamm
Him: tab (the nickname I gave him) habeebek mayestahelsh another chance, mocha turns 1 in a week or two!
Me: *getting really loud* BYE
*I hung up*
I rejected three more calls, and I have one addiotnal missed call to the earlier mentioned 14… UFFFFFFFF
اللهم إني لا أسألك رد القضاء، و لكني أسألك اللطف فيه... إشفي يا رب... أو خده
3 days ago, at my dentist’s (I had already gone 2 days before that and my baby sis and mocha were with me, long story)
Dr. M: *with a cute smile on his face* your son, looks exactly like your husband… carbon copy!! (Despite what that man says, I love the smile on his face as he says it; something about smiling old people captivates me)
Me: *with a bigger smile and a joking tone* Noooooo, he looks like me
Dr. M: ezzay ba2a, da kollo X
Me: no no, tab 2olly, shabahoh fe eh??
Dr. M: he has his eyes!!
Me: no way, these are my eyes… X’s eyes aren’t that pretty *both blushing and smiling* (yes, I say the weirdest things that can cause me to blush!!)
Dr. M: you might have pretty eyes, but I think you’re blind for not seeing how much he looks like his dad… and I think both of you are idiots for letting all this happen, but hey don’t mind me, I am an old fool who thinks the old way!
Me: you really are one of the few people I like whatever they say, despite how much I might disagree, so say whatever you want ya Dr. (I know I sound totally habla, but I did mention smiling old people just have that effect on me… I have grandfather issues; he was a grumpy old man incapable of showing love!!)
Dr. M: tab will you let X see them??
Me: if he wants to see them, el beet beeto, he’s most welcomed, they will always be his kids (I don’t even buy it when I say crap like that, but I would suck it up if he actually decides to come over)
Dr. M: he doesn’t want to confront your parents, they might say one thing or another… you know it gets awkward that way
Me: if he had told you that, you can tell him my parents wouldn’t want to meet him, they won’t!! Would you meet someone who repeatedly humiliated your daughter?? I think not!! But because you have ethics, you would allow him to see your grandkids because he happens to be their father… so there…
Dr. M: *pinching my nose, right before drilling into my poor tooth* you’re a stubborn stubborn girl; I can only imagine how hard it is being married to you
Yesterday, I’m home, online, chatting, he calls!! I answer because I know my dentists probably talked to him, and well, if he wants to see the kids, why not!! I really really try to be the bigger person when it comes to the kids, although I have to say, I think he should have nothing to do with them! This is why it takes me 3 attempts from him until I end up answering!
Me: mmm?? (This is how I show my discontentment with him calling)
Him: *his annoying sarcastic tone* walahy kowayes ennek betrody!
Me: hat2ool 3ayez eh wala ne2fel a7san?
Him: ana bakalemek 3ashan 2a2olek eny mesafer in two days
Him: mesh 3ayza te2oleely 7aga??
Me: if you’re expecting me to wish you the best, I think you’re really pushing it, the best you should hope for is eny mad3eesh 3aleik… don’t worry, ana khalas saybak le rabena
Him: *his hurt voice* shukran
Me: *my bored tone* el 3afw
Him: by the way, I won’t be going to Iraq like I told you before
Me: whatever! It doesn’t matter
Him: I’m going to Afganistan
Me: *sarcastic laugh* hehe2, (I really tried not to laugh so hard, but man I kept laughing after I hung up!!)
Him: law garaly 7aga, eb2y khally balek men el 3eyal (ya bat3a, hehe… baba tells me it’s a quote from Madraset el Moshaghbeen, I didn’t even know that and I felt like saying bat3a when he finished his sentence)
Me: tab eh el gedeed, 7assalak 7aga, ma7asalaksh 7aga, ana bakhaly baly menhom!!
Him: mesh hatsebeeny ashofhom abl ma safer?
Me: hattala2ny abl matsafer?
Me: teb2a matestahelsh aghayar ra2y we anazelhom yeshofook, 3ayez teshofhom ta3ala!
Him: ma2darsh atala2ek
Me: leh in sha2 Allah?
Him: I just can’t let go that way, we Kaman mesh yemken te32aly
Me: and now you’re suggesting that I’m crazy!
Him: ya3ne enty shayfa en elly bete3meleeh da 3a2l!
Me: ok, bye now, I can’t deal with you that way
Him: gara eh ya weleya?
Me: meen weleya de, matetkalem 3edel
Him: bahazzar ma3aki
Me: you don’t get to tehazar ma3aya
Him: you’re still my wife, I get to do what I want
Me: (we ba3deen ba2aaa) no, I am not your wife, if people apply religion right, including you or anyone concerned, I would have been divorced for almost a year now!! And I already filed a divorce case, so as far as I am concerned I am almost divorced; all I need is a piece of paper! So no, I am not your wife, you have no rights, if we didn’t share kids, there would have been no reason for me to take your call!!
Him: khalas khalas, hakalemek ba3deen
Me: mafeesh ba3deen, I am switching off my cell
Today at work, 10 missed calls so far, and counting… I’m taking bets people, how many missed calls will I have by the end of the working day?
April 21, 2008
Even where I work, where I actually have my very own parking space, I drive into the parking lot to find big SUVs blocking my way!! Moreover, they have that huge thing covered in an ugly green cloth making it harder for me to get into my space.
It's only natural that I walk all the way from the parking lot into the building with a serious face, if not a frown.
Until i see the old security man, I say "Salamo 3aleikom"... he nods, smiles back and says "Wa 3alekom al salam ya benty"... I give him my brightest smile as I walk towards the elevators.
It's fair to say, this man makes me smile all the way up. And as I take the elevator back down at the end of the day, I have that smile on my face as I pass by his desk and say "Salamo 3aleikom", and he answers back "ma3 al salama ya benty"
There is something extremely peaceful about his calm wrinkled face and his warm smile; it gives the greeting more meaning that way!
God bless him.
April 20, 2008
I once believed that; I once felt the pain when I was told the truth. It was the day he ‘came clean’! I knew what he came to say, I knew he allowed himself too look sorry and to beg for my forgiveness.
I still remember his face that day; I remember watching a face I once loved looking at, turning into a face that sickens me.
I still remember how it felt; how I planned to keep it together and to not cry, how I promised myself I would hear him through, and I also remember how I broke down and cried, how humiliating it felt to hear it all and yet cry that way in front of him.
I remember I tried, really tried to find a way to forgive him, I remember letting him hold me despite the pain, and feeling the part of me who once loved him slowly and painfully dying.
I remember going out with him the very next day and watching him play another game right in front of me, I remember letting it slide, and living up to my own standards, rather than his.
I remember his little play, the play he directed to make her think he had me wrapped around his finger, and that I had forgiven him. I remember how heartbreaking it was to see how he could still manipulate me that way despite all.
I remember how my whole body trembled as she walked towards us; how I wanted to break down and cry, to yell at him and to just do something different from what was expected of me. Then I remembered I was expected to make a scene, by both of them. And that was when I decided to make a little victory out of my loss and rise above it; I painted a smile on my face when she leaned to shake hands, folded my arms and shook my head telling her nothing, then I enjoyed watching her walk away in utter confusion. I let him wrap his arm around me in disbelief that was coated with false pride, and knew from that moment on, he will mean nothing to me.
That was the most pain I felt at a point. At that particular point, I thought the truth could never be more painful. Truth is, the truth does not hurt as badly as lies. Trust me; lies do hurt so much more.
I realize that each time I read what he said in all the official documents of which I receive photocopies. Every time I happen to read any of those and see how he trivialized the most painful moments of my life and made them about me making up fights for no legitimate reason. How he would shamelessly lie about why I left, and say I couldn’t get along with his family, and “so she packed and left”, really?!!! I never got along alright, but I never ever gave them reasons to complain, and I had already stopped complaining since the day I shared a house with them. How could he put it in such words, how could he make the worst days of my life sound so silly and meaningless?!!
That hurt so much more, and it still does every time I read one of those documents. I only read each once I receive it, and then put it in a file I keep at my dad’s room so that I would not have to see it ever again. Yesterday I was handed another, followed by the report the government official wrote upon visiting beet el ta3a. How did I ever get here? How did I ever fall for someone so…? There isn’t a word to describe him really, or describe how I feel about any of that.
I went home, and as I was getting something from my drawer, I saw an old envelop of photos, photos of us when were ‘in love’. I could no longer feel what I once felt for him, I could no longer see anything good about him, although the one in those photos was the one I held hands with and leaned on, and looked all happy and smiley and safe. I felt none of that; no happiness, no smiles, and definitely no safety. And this is why I left, the idiot; it wasn’t just that he failed my trust, it was that I knew I could trust him no more.
The truth did not hurt me when I knew it; the lies did. As a matter of fact, the truth gave me the peace I needed to walk out knowing that I did all I could when I was in there; it gave me the peace I needed and protected me from any what ifs that would come.
** This is not me acting depressed or hurt, it’s just something I have been thinking about all day since yesterday, and I thought I would get it out of my system and move on, instead of getting depressed over it.
April 16, 2008
People: My parents, my kids, my baby sister, and I
Place: In the car, going out for a late lunch
Random Information: My dad insisted on driving because he feels sick when he’s not. I said I would choose the music if he does, and connected the ipod, and chose an Arabic play list to avoid sarcastic comments. Hanine y Son Cubano was playing their version of "2alby we mofta7o"
Beem: *pointing at a kiosk selling pepsi* da bta3 mammy
Goody: noo beem, da mesh beta3 mommy
Beem: la howa pepsi bta3 maaammy ah
My dad: soot meen da?
Me: a Lebanese singer and a Cuban band
Goody: no she’s Palestinian
Me: Hanine is Palestinian?
Me: strange, I thought she was Lebanese!
Mom: Hanine meen, sa7bet el kiosk??
People: My kids, my baby sister, and me
Random Information: My baby sis helping Beem wear his home sandals so that he’d go to my dad downstairs, as I was changing Mocha’s diaper
Beem: *mumbling stuff*
Goody: sam3a ebnek?
Me: la2, bey2ool eh?
Goody: gomla phalsafeya
Goody: ana mesh enty
*Maat was at the Marcel Khalife concert. I hate her for not getting me tickets. I was considering disowning her, but she got me Pepsi on her way home, so I reconsidered.
April 14, 2008
As much as I love it, it haunts me! Not causing me to have any regrets, but more like a reminder to know when to let go; it basically says that letting go –as EXTREMLY hard as it feels- is actually so easy!
This is the moment when the gods expect me
To beg for help but I won't even try
I want nothing in this world but myself to protect me
But I won't lie down, roll over and die
All I have to do is to forget how much I love him
All I have to do is put my longing to one side
Tell myself that love's an ever-changing situation
Passion would have cooled and all the magic would have died
It's easy, it's easy
All I have to do is to pretend I never knew him
On those very rare occasions when he steals into my heart
Better to have lost him when the ties were barely binding
Better the contempt of the familiar cannot start
It's easy, It's easy
Until I think about him as he was when I last touched him
And how he would have been were I to be with him today
Those very rare occasions don't let up they keep on coming
All I ever wanted and I'm throwing it away
It's easy, it's easy as life
But then I saw the faces of a worn, defeated people
A father and a nation who won't let a coward run
Is this how the gods reward the faithful through the ages?
Forcing us to prove the hardest thing we've done
And though I'll think about him til the earth draws in around me
And though I choose to leave him for another kind of love
There is no denial, no betrayal but redemption
Redeemed in my own eyes and in the pantheon above
It's easy It's easy as life
It's easy as life
It's easy as life
From Aida, The Broadway Performance (in English) of Verdi’s Aida
I am tired, tired of the anticipation of the end, tired of the responsibilities I know are already more than I can handle, tired of getting help from my mother when she keeps making me feel like an endlessly disappointing burden. I am tired of being stuck in a moment, in a situation I definitely did not sign up for. I am tired of being worried and I am tired of wondering when all this will be resolved, I know it will be; I am just not sure when it will happen or what it will take to happen.
I am confused about my current status and my kids’. I am confused about how my life should be until then; I don’t know how to act or behave. I don’t know if I am someone’s wife, and I should live my life up to people’s expectations, people who think my husband is abroad and I am taking care of my kids until he’s back. What if I say it plain and simple: “my marriage is ending; I don’t know how long it will take, but it will end”, and then, do I get to have a little bit more freedom, or would I be tied by more social chains. Either way, I need more emotional freedom than that, at least I know that much. I am also confused whether I should mention him to the kids more often to make them more familiar that they do have a father somewhere, or do I ignore the elephant in the room (more like a dirty ugly rat) until they are old enough to ask.
I am scared, very scared. When this is over, what will happen, what’s next? I’ve been told to live each day at a time and not to over think things and burden myself with worries, but easier said than done. I am scared of the more responsibilities that await me. I am scared of the choices I have to make that I may not be ready for. I am scared of my parents’ control once I am labeled divorcee. I am turning 27 in a couple of months, and I am scared of my parents’ control, does it get anymore pathetic?! It does! I am also scared of a society I despise; not of what the society would think of me, more like what it would think of my kids as they grow up. I know, too soon; but my father sort of throws this at my face from time to time. I know he says it because at some point he used to think that way. Perhaps he kept his own marriage together for my sake and my sisters’, is this why he mom constantly judge me?
Despite being tired, confused and scared, I know I have made the right decision when I decided I could no longer stay. Other women might have done it differently, but I just know I couldn’t. Whatever I write here is not about having second thoughts or thinking what ifs; it’s always about what will come of this when the smoke goes down. I am afraid of my choices, the coming ones. I am afraid I will make more wrong choices when it’s no longer just about me, but also about my kids’ best interest. I don’t know how to take that one day at a time because this much responsibility is too overwhelming, and the help I am getting with the kids, may be good for them, but definitely not good enough for me, and I can’t ask for more. I don’t know how to ask for more.
April 13, 2008
I think I know what’s wrong… I am confused.
Like the average human being, I tend to be affected and influenced by everything that happens around me, everything. I might have a little bit more than my share when it comes to this department because of the vivid imagination and the what-if-it-happened-to-me, and all the other things that I think are basically due to some unidentified psychological ailment.
So, trying to figure out my unexplained blues, I started thinking of the things that took place within the last week… eureka!!
It was right under my nose! Anyone who stumbled upon my blog would have said it… it’s about the X. Not him; more like what people keep telling me when it comes to him, of course accompanied by my own crazy mixture of thoughts and hidden agendas, some of which I never dared to share!
It started the day I went to court. Talk about a day that starts with a strike and a sandstorm, add to it an appointment at court and you get some serious emotional disturbance.
I never talked about it, but I got out of court feeling like crap. Every time I am forced to deal with any of that I feel like the world is closing in on me. Let alone that my mind has its own freaky ways of making a lot of things my fault just to avoid indulging me in the victim’s role. I don’t remember how I got there, but I was probably blaming myself for something as I was driving my way out of down town.
I stopped by my friends at my previous job to feel some warmth and to force myself to be all bubbly and happy; that’s the girl they know, they never met disillusioned me. I was greeted by the friendliest phrases and I felt good about myself, but I still felt weak inside.
My x-boss (S) came, a wonderful woman, a bit of an acquired taste, but you gotta admire her strength and poise. She hugged me, and for a split second there I almost broke down, I miss being hugged that way… my mom never does, I never let her; last time I did she made me regret it by saying mean things the next day and I promised I would never let her disappoint me that way again.
S felt it and took me to her desk and told me in her most direct tone what was the worst thing for me to hear at that point, basically because I knew it was true. Yes, at the end of the day, I am in over my head big time. As tough as I can be, I have been living in my dad’s bubble until I moved into his. I never experienced life on my own, all my experience was through other people. I am not fooling anyone with my act or whatever that is that I have got going.
Yes, my sons will grow up to rebel against me because that’s what all kids do, and if we add to that the divorce and their father’s character and whatever else I am not paying attention to right now, I am in for disaster. And like S said: “enty nafsek manteesh 3a2la awy, enty zarboona wel 3er2 el turkey 3andek 3aly”. That was my cue to leave, I felt like going home and hiding under the cover, only I never did.
At home, responsibilities, and I really feel that no one knows how all this is making me feel anymore. I know I shouldn’t expect a constant watch over my mood swings; if anything, my family has already learned my moods change by the hour and that asking me what’s wrong will only put me on the defense. Let alone that I am really sick and tired of complaining, I already turn everything into a joke.
Then D logged on. She is probably the only one I can pour my feelings to without filtering. But I was already putting my guard on to an extent, like I always do when I know I am doing something she’s not approving of… and well, there is a thing or two. She asked me what’s wrong, I told her nothing new… that was her cue to change the topic and talk about other things. I didn’t want her to, but neither was I read for what she had to say if she had not changed the topic.
Then the evening at the dentist’s; that was harsh. I really love the man; I mean I absolutely have nothing against him, nothing. But I almost cried when he talked to me about how the x and I are being so ignorant of our kids’ best interest. I know their best interest will never be with who he is at this point, but I did not need to hear that their best interest didn’t lie with my current choice, because that is the only choice I have.
His talk had awaken so many demons I thought I have put to sleep; they were hiding and waiting for great chances like those.
All the words people keep saying about how I should have been more forgiving and accepting. How I lead him into more cheating when I couldn’t forgive him the first time around. How love should have made me more forgiving. How I ruined it all by having higher expectations than he was capable of as a man. How things could have worked if I was less opinionated and more submissive.
All his words, his sick and twisted words that once made sense and tormented me came back to haunt me out of the blue. “you’re the one who lead me to her… she understood what you could never even try to understand”, “I will never forgive you for pushing me in her direction every time I had regrets and wanted nothing but to hold you in my arms, but you always pulled away”, “you will never forgive me, so what’s the point of apologizing, let alone meaning it”, “you’re everything that’s text book wrong with how wives should treat their husbands, you talk back, you argue, and you just have no faith in me”
YES YES YES
It could all be right. Perhaps I am the delusional one. Perhaps I did everything the wrong way and perhaps if I were different, I would have still be living the dream, instead of having it turned into a nightmare that forced me to wake up to an ugly reality.
But people, I couldn’t forgive him because I was hurt, deeply and infinitely hurt by having the one person I loved sharing feelings I thought were only mine with someone else, someone he never even spoke well of; it made me feel worthless and cheap. I accepted everything, not necessarily in the most subtle of ways, but I did the best I could do and I just never knew it wasn’t enough for him. Love is what made me unable to forgive him, because loving him is what broke my heart then; how could I have let love take the lead when it had taken my heart and had given it to someone who did not cherish it. If my expectations of him were that high, how come he got away with his expectations of me, how come it was ok for him to cheat when I couldn’t live up to them? It is not fair! And the fact that I could not live by such unfairness or accept it does not make me opinionated; it simply makes me a person who does not have double standards, or at least thinks she doesn’t.
His words, they scarred me for life; I remember them in every single moment of self doubt that my life sometimes feel like a dead end. They weaken my logic and my confidence in ways no other words have… talk about the power of words. How could you expect me to understand that you could fool around all day wrong and then come home to me and act as if you missed me? How could I have remained in your arms when I knew they held someone else? I’d have rather had you go back running to her than suck it up and let you hold me.
And I forgave you, you piece of shit, I forgave you when you came crying and asking for my forgiveness… I just couldn’t get over the pain or find peace in any of the details you shared; they shattered every little beautiful thing we once shared, they shattered all my dreams and ruined all chances of me looking at you without remembering. And you know what, when you took back the confession and the remorse, you made me hate myself for forgiving someone who never even felt sorry in the first place; it was yet another slap to my dignity.
And if I was such a terrible terrible wife, why did you not just leave me? Hell, why are you not letting go? Why are you not letting go? I cried and I begged you to, I let you see how broken I have become because of you and you just did not let go, why? And don’t you dare say you love me; this is not love, not in my book, not in any book.
Do you have a clue what it took me to know what I want, to know that ending the marriage is the better option. I knew I would have not fogiven you if I had stayed; I would have not been able to understand the hows and whys, so I just realized it was best to leave them not understood. This is what brings me peace, knowing my decision was the only one I could live with and accepting it.
You will never understand how bad it feels when i speak that way of you, but you left me nothing but bitter and hateful words to describe you with. I try to smile and say calmly “Rabena yehdeeh” but my voice fails me; how can I wish you well when all you've put me through during the past couple of years was utter misery? That's not the way I wanted things to end; I wanted to look back and say there were good days, but all I am left with are the bad ones blocking everything else.For the love of God, just let me go. Let me redefine my life and know what I want out of it without having your shadow over every good day. Please let me go, God knows I have a handful of worries and things to work on from here on. Don’t force me into paths that go against the things I believe in, when I gave you my heart I never imagined I would be going to courts to end this marriage.
Just like that! No apparent reason, nothing in particular is upsetting me… perhaps a thing or two, but not the kind of things that would make it hard to breathe!!
Panic attack?? Naaa, I don’t think I ever had one. I don’t count any of the times I cried so hard or felt so scared, I always had good reasons. I just seem to have none now; I feel so cold and lonely and I just want to cry.
No I am not missing my tooth; there is no such thing as postpartum blues as far as teeth are concerned!
No, he did not pull another stunt; as a matter of fact, I am thankful he reduced his attempts to call to twice or thrice a week, and counting…
Mocha is a little bit sick, but it is ok, it’s not like it’s his first time! And I know he’s being well taken care of at home.
I am not anticipating anything to happen to feel that worried and restless…
I am even strictly silencing all the mad ideas I’ve been getting lately about redecorating my room and buying more stuff; actually I know those ideas are my mind’s way of distracting itself from what’s disturbing me… But what is disturbing me?!!!
I think I am hitting the I-better-sulk-in-bed-and-pretend-to-be-asleep phase, only there will be no sulking in bed or pretending to be asleep since I have “responsibilities” :-/
April 12, 2008
Anyway, I guess this is a literal interpretation of my teeth dream, especially that I am scheduled for getting the one wisdom tooth I still have, removed within this month or the next. Teeth can be just teeth after all I suppose. My jaw and my skull hurt a bit now though, but it is ok I guess.
Apparently, that was not enough action for the day; I went to the pool and floated. YES I DID. I was so proud of myself; I was gonna jump up and down yaaaying and all, except that I was all on my own and I tend to be rather shy in public. Yeah I know, hard to believe.
I did not float for a long while though, but it was somewhere to start; at least I know I am actually capable of doing it. It’s like a milestone I tell ya, and yes, it is so relaxing and rewarding.
Not a bad day, not bad at all. I am grateful, الحمد لله.
April 10, 2008
I was just commenting on RR’s about dreams where we lose teeth. Funny thing, I had another one last night!!
I dreamed I was driving, fast, on a highway; everyone around me was, until everyone suddenly stopped. I stopped too; only accidents seemed to happen all around! So I was lying there in my car trying to figure out if I was badly hurt or not when that man came, grabbed me and punched me in the face!! He practically punched my two frontal teeth out!!
There was no pain whatsoever, not even blood; just the state of shock and disbelief when someone hits you that way. Everything disappeared then, except for my best friend showing later and I was holding both of my teeth and looking at them sadly while telling her what happened. Random thing though, both of the teeth were like glued to one another, as if they were one big ugly tooth!!
Anyway, as I was telling a friend about my dream, I realized that the last time I had a dream where I lost teeth was the first night I spent at my parents’ upon being released from the hospital, 3 days after giving birth to Mocha. It was a bit different though.
The same frontal teeth were hurting like hell, I wouldn’t leave them alone or ignore them; instead I kept moving my tongue around them until they came off causing too much bleeding and even much more pain. I cried and I cried because of the pain, the more I saw blood, the more I cried, I remember waking up later to find tears on my pillow!
Anyway, everything also disappeared and I saw that kid, 6 years old, or the age where they start losing teeth for new ones to grow, he smiled at me and said I needn’t worry and that my teeth will grow back. I felt even worse as I told him that his would grow while mine wouldn’t because they were the ones to keep and that I was too old.
Remembering my dream from almost a year ago made me realize that it was the same two frontal teeth. All the other times I dreamed about losing teeth, it was either a canine or a molar; that time and yesterday’s have been about the same pair of teeth.
Last year, I lost a husband; not that I think he was any sort of loss, losing a person does not necessarily mean they were worth keeping. However, having someone no longer in your life can some how count for loss; the good kind of loss in my case. But it was painful, extremely painful, and I dare say it consumed me for a long time. الحمد للـــه .
Could this dream be about the x too? Could the punching be a metaphor for the fight and struggle for the divorce? Could the teeth being finally punched out be my divorce, only without the pain and the bleeding? يــا رب.
Coming to think of it that way, I don’t think it was that disturbing. Not disturbing at all. I like to hear other iterpretations if there is any though :)
April 9, 2008
Now here is what I really wanna do, FLOAT. I don’t even wanna learn how to swim!
As a child, my dad banished me in Alexandria for a whole summer where I went every day to the club to learn how to swim, and I just never did. I was too stubborn for my trainer to learn something I was forced to stay in Alex for. I still don’t get why I had to stay in Alex for that; my dad said that he wouldn’t trust anyone but that guy to teach me because he was one of his best friend’s son and would take good care of me; moreover, he won medals and stuff. Whatever!
The guy was really nice and friendly as far as I remember, but his friendliness and medals did not help. I never trusted him or my floating board enough to relax and let go; I would ruin my balance by doing no so subtle movements as an attempt to take control of things, it always resulted in me struggling to not sink, ALWAYS!! My trainer eventually gave up and sent me home with a note that read something like “stones are not meant to even float, we de ras.ha anshaf men el 7agar”, and that was it!! My dad had officially given up on me being a fish like him; yeah I have Alexandrian genes and I don’t know how to swim daddy, get over it.
I think that’s what’s wrong with me. OK, one of the things that are wrong with me, except that it’s been getting really annoying lately, unlike the things that are wrong with me and I actually like. Stop babbling! So I was saying, I am stubborn, too stubborn. I like being stubborn, but when I am too stubborn to be able to let go and trust other things, things I have no control over and probably will never do, it’s just scary.
I had that conversation with a friend around a month ago and I was defending my logic when I heard myself say “when I get on your nerves just remember, I don’t know how to swim, I tried and I just couldn’t relax and let go enough to even float!”. That was when it hit me, my mind is incapable of letting go to a dangerous extent, and it has been going on since I was six that the poor swimming trainer had given up on me!
I think I overcompensate by having short attention span and losing interest too quickly. Nonetheless, I know there are things that keep haunting my thoughts until I find my own way of resolving them, and when I don’t, well, I start wearing out my brain cells with over thinking. An extremist, why am I not even surprised?
Damn it, I just wanna float, in every sense of the word.
April 6, 2008
- I feel like I have TOO MUCH energy these days, I know I am definitely burning out soon! It won’t be pretty, especially if it comes along with bad news… I just hope my mom won’t be starting her own campaign of “how to teach insomniac a new lesson about responsibility” then because I plan to SLEEEEEP off the burning-out phase in order to avoid worse consequences!
- My palms are sweating LIKE HELL! *Major EWWWWW*… my allergy doctor once prescribed that medication which you apply on your hands and it has that dehydrating effect, I would ask whoever is coming to Egypt to bring me some, only I have been hearing horrors about how people get skin cancer when they mess with their sweat glands, so I am being thankful its just my hands… my sister tells me it’s anxiety related, duuuhhhh!!
- I have an appointment at the Family Affairs Court in a couple of hours; why do I still get nervous about that even when I know it’s routine procedure? Yeah yeah I worry, but this is not about worrying; it’s more like I am reminded of my unfavorable status I guess. If it gets too disappointing, I am dropping by the guys at my previous job; they make me feel like something about the past few years was worth its while… and my kids of course :)
- Awww, Beem kept laughing and giggling in his sleep yesterday; I kept kissing him and he held on to me; moments like these make me feel all motherly and stuff! Mocha on the other hand was having too much fun sitting on his sleeping brother’s head and laughing his heart out when I pull him away, the little devil! They both ruined the few hours I slept by kicking me and one another… how on earth do they get jealous of each other during sleep?! Two words, separate beds... soon isA
- After dropping Beem at the nursery I realized that I lost my access card which was clipped to my pants, so I stepped out of the car and kept looking underneath the chair then drove back home to see if it had fallen where the car was parked as I was getting Beem beeh to fasten his seatbelt… no luck, so now I have to call the security company and ask how to deactivate that card and set a new one for myself…
- When did clothes get that freakin’ expensive in Egypt?? I mean those that are of quality that can be compared to non-Egyptian made! It hit me real hard as I was shopping for maternity wear with my friend; I was telling her the stuff looked as good as online catalogues, and then checking the prices I was like “but that’s for more than double the online prices!”… I didn’t say it out loud though, no need to make her feel she’s being ripped off.
- And now he is calling non-stop, WHYYYYY? Did I mention he called the other day saying he got a job offer in Iraq (he loves drama) and he was like “mesh 3ayza menny 7aga abl masafer”, and when I said “enta 3aref ana 3ayza eh”… and there it was “ok, yalla neroo7 lel ma2zoon”, now I was on my way to my cousin’s engagement, and I didn’t trust him enough to meet up before going, so I said I would get back to my dad… My dad had a good point, he does not need me to go to el ma2zoon, he can do that on his own, right on baba!
- So now I just answered him, just to not mess with the slim opportunity that he might actually let me go; he’s like “go get Beem from the nursery, there’s a strike and it’s dangerous for him to be out!”… Father-of-the-Year Award here people!! Again, I kept my sarcasm to myself; I really don’t wanna mess the chance of him actually meaning the whole divorce thing… H tells me it’s a huge ba3ta from his side, deep down I know she’s probably right; what can I say, I am a freakin’ optimist to an unhealthy extreme!
- So now that he brought to my attention the whole strike thing, I am more concerned about whether I shall drive to Down Town or take the underground. I really don’t wanna be poked and groped on this particular day thank you very much. I think I would bark my voice off if that happens; and given that I am too emotional lately I could also collapse on the sidewalk and burst into tears! So I am taking my chances with my car… something tells me I will so regret this.
- Why are they keeping me in charge of the Petty Cash?!!! WHY? I am bad with numbers, I am even worse with money, why does the accountant dude feel that much victory every time he senses my confusion as I try sorting out the receipts… I know, I know, I am a priceless piece of entertainment for people who work with numbers… this is why I hate stepping into banks.
Too many thoughts… TOO MANY THOUGHTS, my head literally hurts. And given my messed up sleeping pattern, I am living on double shots of Turkish coffee and Panadol Extra (God bless Glaxo, I think it’s Glaxo, no? I am too lazy to get the tablets from my purse to check—not so much energy after all I suppose!)
April 2, 2008
The dentist who performed the root canal on this particular molar and has been preparing me to have a crown like five months ago (yeah, I am the worst patient ever!) is a family friend of my in-laws.
It took me all my years of marriage to actually let the man take a look at my teeth, because 1) I generally have very limited trust in doctors, 2) I have almost zero trust in my in-laws’ standards on which they choose doctors, 3) I am the worst patient ever, I wait until I am in severe pain; in this particular case, I waited until that molar was chipped while I was eating 3asaleya
Other than him being friendly with my current in-laws and his limited use of anesthesia, this very dentist is brilliant! He’s the best dentist I have ever been to, especially that we reached an agreement that it’s ok to drug me all he wants as long as I feel no pain :)
Now, my molar needs that crown pronto because it is getting even more brittle day by day, and I am not sure if the gum hurts or the molar itself; all I know is that I should have had a crown five months ago and I chickened because Dr. M started talking to me about getting back to the X!
Yes!! My great husband told the dentist that I am a crazy delusional woman who thinks he’s having an affair and acting all hormonal and stuff and leaving the house. He would have claimed I ditched the kids too if he had them for a couple of hours! NO, he has no shame. So, I did not explain to the man anything and instead, I never went back and ignored my poor molar all that time.
I don’t wanna ask around for another dentist, I really like that man, and I really trust him with my teeth. But if he starts telling me the things he did in my last visit I will probably burst into tears right there, which is just wrong!
Soooo, does the X and his family get the dentist in the divorce settlements and I should go on a dentist hunt? Or the hell with it, I should get the proper medical attention from the doctor of my preference?
Consider it a vote people! And yeah, if you think I should go to a different dentist, do recommend one, given that I need extra pain killers and that I keep looking at whatever reflecting surface to see what’s going on inside my mouth and I freak when I see blood that I might start crying… oh oh oh and most importantly, I HATE WAITING; I make reservations via phone, show up on time and expect to get in on time; otherwise i turn into a total biat$#.
April 1, 2008
So when you called and told me to akhbat rasy fel 7eet two days after begging for reconciliation and making me thinking about how it would be if I consider it... it didn’t get to me.
Your plan to dodge the next legal procedure by expressing fake guilt would have been brilliant if I were that 20 year old shmuck who thought the world of you; now, it’s more like a silly April’s fools that made me shake my head and say “touché”, or like the sofaaj me says “bala waksa”
From now on, the joke will be on you.