Trouble in mind…*

Trouble in mind, I'm blue...

Too much of that in my poor head; thoughts that battle with me one after the other, they mingle and tangle until I’m too tired to take any of them or figure them apart one at a time!

Trouble in mind, that's true
I have almost lost my mind,
Ain't never had so much
Trouble in my life before

In a futile attempt I try to trace everything back to where it began, hoping that by doing so I’d be able to understand, and perhaps find much needed solutions. Unfortunately, it’s too far behind; so I just take the lead from the here and now.

I am a 28-year old single mom who is basically judged by her own family whether they admit to it or not. Until now, my parents try to dodge being asked about my marital status and when they’re left with no choice but admitting it, they say it in a low tone of voice and while looking away! Instead of being referred to as the rebel and the trouble maker like before, I am rather the failure or the shameful disappointment, although they acknowledge and explain that it was the best thing to do!

My motherhood is questioned each and every day, not just by me, but by those who should know better about my needs and know nothing about motherhood! I mean, my dad’s job was to provide, I’m grateful he did more than that and shaped us in a way my mom would have never been able to… but I provide too, and I try to find the patience and the energy to shape my boys, problem is, I am still not exactly shaped myself!!! Ma, I… well… I see mothers in a lot of other women her age, but in her; I saw it in my late nana (Allah yer7amha), I saw it in S (Allah yer7amha), I see it in so many of my tants who perhaps think I am an ungrateful daughter because she complains all the time and because I get hurt silently and let my pride handle it by walking away. My sisters know nothing of responsibilities and living up to them; they want to chase their own butterflies, but they just don’t get that I was denied chasing mine. I am not envious, but they don’t get to tell me I should spend more time being a mother, because may be I need the previous butterfly-chasing experience to be a mom, and until they're better mothers themselves, they should just stop with the insulting advice and implications.

I did marry too young. I thought marrying someone for love would be the best way to escape all the control and suffocation at home and have a lifelong companion with whom I could just live my youth before I settle and build the family. It never happened, not for long enough anyways, because unlike me, he wanted to live up to whatever this society dictated, and well, we react differently, and his reaction sucked big time. Unfortunately, it gravely affected my life and changed it beyond any attempts to undo the change!

I wish I could just explain that forcing me to grow up will not make me a grown up, at least not as gracefully as I would like! But hey, everyone knows much better about that, even those who never even tried on my shoes! The arrogance! Why do I have it in me to listen to those who choose to block their ears to my explanations?!

I still can’t believe I’m 28! I still feel like 19 most of the time; my dreams since then never exactly came to reality; not that I want the same dreams, but I lack the fulfillment of having changed my mind because I chose to, rather than adjusted to the changes that took over my life.

I have the remains of a teenage-anger and the need to go all over the place and make things happen. I have a dreamer who’s constantly being told it’s too late to dream and it’s time to check in with reality and do as requested. The free spirited rebel refuses those words but it’s tied down and has nothing to show but anger and resentment.

Trouble in mind, I'm blue
But I won't be blue always…

But then, the optimist in me keeps repeating that all can be done; all can be achieved given time and patience.

I so want to believe it because otherwise, I will just lose… lose all the losses I have already lost over and over again!

'Cause the sun's gonna shine
In my backdoor some day.

In the midst of all my thoughts, I realize that tears are overflowing from my eyes like they haven’t in a long time. I touch my eyes and my face in the dark, and I pat my own cheeks as I whisper “it will be ok, it will be ok… no, it won’t be ok… but you will be ok, you will be ok”

Well it's trouble, oh trouble,
Trouble on my worried mind…
When you see me laughin',
I'm laughin' just to keep from cryin'

I keep telling myself “you’ll be ok, you’ll be ok”

'Cause the sun's gonna shine
In my backdoor some day.

* Song Tribute: Trouble in Mind by the amazing Nina Simone; I couldn’t find the version I have with all the lyrics on utube, but this is the one with the best piano by Nina, do check it out; it’s inspiring!

Homeless…

I was running an errand and I had to go to a home appliances and hardware store, and it hit me right there…

I am homeless.

I have been since I gave birth to my Beem! Since then, I lived with my in-laws and my sense of belonging to my own home vanished one day after the other; I couldn’t do my laundry whenever I wanted, yet I had to do it before anyone else beat me to it, making me look and feel like an incompetent wife. My life became even more stressful because I felt like a guest in addition to dealing with being a new mom. I kept failing one task after the other because I was spread too thin.

After I gave birth to my Mocha, I was back to my parents’, and until last May, I was struggling for my divorce. I have a room separate from the rest of the household, it has its own bathroom and it’s own “living”. However, I could never really do any of the little random purchases for none of the things I bought matched or belonged to my parents’ place, just like I no longer belong.

I stood there, staring at the laundry hamper trying to figure out if I shall buy it and keep it in my stuffed room anyways! The thought led to how I need to re-paint the damn room and get a closet to fit all our stuff in it, one thought led to the other and the final conclusion was clear, I do not have a home.

I know it’s a roof above my head and my kids’, but it’s not a home, not my home. I constantly feel like I have to abide by rules I supposedly outgrew just because I live under that roof. I am forced to go to Alex whenever there’s a family event, I am forced to go on vacations, I abide by dumb curfews because I do not want to upset my dad and because I owe them that little for taking care of me and my kids! Well, day after another, I feel less loved in this place, and it is most likely my oversensitivity, but I constantly feel used and disposable in a sense, and I don’t have the right to object because it’s not my place.

I need my place. I need to sit down and write how much it will cost me to move out and start making a plan, and follow it. I have no idea if it’s the right thing to do for either myself or my kids, but I am no longer sure what’s right; there are no guidelines, and every freakin’ thing is relative and all I know is that I can’t go on like that anymore!!

In retrospect

The movie…

He looked like him. In real life, he doesn’t; just the petite structure and the haircut and the little beard.

He behaved like him. Not exactly, just the humor and the charm and the selfishness, only in real life he showed more kindness that hid the selfishness, kindness that made all his mistakes forgiven.

He reminded me of him when he shaved off that hair. Only in real life, he had bigger brown eyes, and higher cheekbones, the features we share.

I cried because under layers of years that hold anger, contempt and disappointed, I realized that I missed him.

The club…

I needed someone who would charm my boys and play with them like he did with me, I thought of him.

I needed someone who’d throw a punch for me without thinking of consequences, I thought of him.

I needed someone who’d hold me and tell me that it will be ok, and I realized I needed him, not him him, the him I thought he was.

The restaurant…

I finally talked about it, it was too clear in my head that I missed him and I needed him. I knew I did because I was vulnerable. Alhamdulilah, I had a great friend to listen.

I didn’t say how he disappointed me, I don’t think I really remember anymore, but I still don’t forgive him, and I know for a fact that I would never tell him how I miss him or need him if we ever talk again, not that I think we ever will.

Yesterday…

I kept going back to that little girl; I envied and pitied her for all she had…

She had the warm loving arms that she appreciated…

She had safe arms that she missed and idealized…

She had warm, loving, safe and overprotective arms that she resented and couldn’t appreciate…

She didn’t see things clearly. Like the movie, she needed lots of time to figure things out for what they really are, but in her case, a lifetime…

A lifetime where she stopped hanging around the warm loving arms that she loved until they were no longer there to hold her…

A lifetime of mistakenly believing in the safety of the arms she missed to realize that those arms were nothing but a heartbreaking disappointment…

A lifetime of avoiding and rejecting the warm, loving, safe and overprotective arms that she couldn’t bear, now, all she wishes she could do is hide in those arms and cry all those lost years… but she’s afraid… afraid of all the questions, afraid of the tears, afraid of being overwhelmed… but most of all, terrified of losing those arms the moment she surrenders to them…

A lifetime full of stupid mistakes she did because she never turned to those arms...

Yesterday, all I wanted was to run in those arms and cry, but I didn’t want the questions that I couldn’t answer and I didn’t know how to show my vulnerability, so I didn’t… I couldn’t even cry on my own…

Right now…

Tears keep flowing with every word I type! I am not crying, tears just fall out of my eyes hurting my eyes but not easing my soul.

And I still feel unable to find the words that tell any of it, it’s too hard to describe it to begin with…

I miss when my pain could find its way out without me looking for words, and I miss him and how he could have fixed me… I take a glimpse at my little mementos and try to remember his words to guide me, but I feel too confused right now…

I’m trying to learn from all the things that revealed themselves in the past days, trying to figure out how to fix myself so that I would not repeat any of my mistakes.

I don’t want to compile unpleasant experiences and lock them. I don’t want to pretend they never happened and they never affected me until they find the chance to haunt me and mess up my life like tides ruin sand castles… I want my life to be more than sandcastles, and I have no idea how…

On being a parent, the things they never told me!

I know I am not alone and I surely know I have it a lot better than other people, alhamdulilah.

However, that does not deny me the right to rant and wonder how to make it better, no???

So here is the deal…

I have two boys, ages (almost) 4 and 2, we live with my family (father, mother, two sisters), my father is usually away Wednesdays to Saturdays and the boys see their dad on Fridays.

Anyone who’s followed my blog long enough would know for a fact that the their father is “zay 3adamo” as an efficient father figure; his only job is to spoil them rotten in the sense of “you’re missing out on lots of fun” which the kids do not pick up on much due to their short attention span. Their father is the same guy who calls me on my cell phone around 5 times when I take a bathroom break away from them and decide to sit down and have coffee to help me survive the stressful outing. AND, he’s the very same guy who keeps receipts of clothes, toys and meals he buys them!!!!! Do I really need to say more?!

I love my kids to pieces; I mean yeah, I whine 30 hours a day about how I miss being just myself without worrying about others the way I do... and yeah I run away in outings with friends whenever possible… but when I am out and I see other people’s kids within the same age as mine, I almost cry because I miss them!! I almost feel my uterus contracting like when they used to be in it and kick!!!!! It makes me feel guilty, an emotion I am not that much used to… momken awy la2enny 7aloofa!

That’s still not the issue; that was an introduction because I am a very talkative person…

Beem (my almost 4 year old) as cute as he is, is showing signs of needing tarbeyah, which I think is critical at his age if I want him to be a half decent human being at some stage of his life, hopefully right after surviving the horrid teenage years.

Looks wise, I think he looks a lot like me despite how everyone keeps saying he takes more after his dad. The reason I am mentioning the looks is that I don’t want anyone out there saying that I am emotionally unstable because he reminds me of his dad that way.

But the poor thing takes after his dad; he’s too analytical, he has very selective memory, he LOVES preaching and arguing like there’s no tomorrow, he never takes the blame and when he does it’s ALWAYS justified, and he uses his charm to get away with EVERYTHING!! For the astrological people out there, his dad is Libra and he’s Virgo; these are more or less the stuff they have in common as sunsigns too!

Now, I keep reminding myself that those things are general things about kids, but let me be accurate; he takes them to the next level!!! And I also realize few of those are good stuff if they’re developed the right way, but I don’t know how to, especially that they remind me of his dad a lot which makes me overreact, yes, I am aware that I do overreact and I am trying to control it!

I appreciate Beem’s IQ, and I love how he is so analytical to the extent that he doesn’t miss a single detail! I like how he remembers things I said; it keeps me on my toes keeping all the promises I make him, but it drives me crazy how he would just pretend to not remember my specific instructions, yes I know he’s only 4, but I have lately realized I can be a perfectionist Nazi (and an ethics Nazi like my friend was telling me)! His arguing skills impress me; very few people leave me speechless the way he does, but the kid has to know at some point that it can be annoying like hell!! And I won’t even comment on placing blame and getting out of it with charm, it makes me want to kill him, and then I look at his cute little face and I want to keep kissing his cheeks and eyes; he’s my CUTE Beem!!

And there’s another problem, the kid barely hangs with people from his gender aside from the rest of boys at the daycare! Between my dad being away and being entitled as a grandparent to spoil him rotten and his dad being a spoilt brat, I don’t have a strong authoritative figure who can also be a role model, which leaves me to do that role! Like I needed more reason to be more “man-like”! Now, I yell in thick scary voice when I have to, I do the threatening walk, and sometimes I hit… my heart aches when I overhear my mom telling him “hatesma3 el kalam walla 2a2ool le mama 3aleik” the way she used to tell me “haaaah, 2a2ool le baba!!”; I don't want to be the bad guy to my kids, not that kind of bad guy anyways... I've always pictured us being more like friends, not really happening :'(

I hate it when I am angry at him, especially that he is so sensitive; all I really want is for him to be able to realize right and wrong on his own and stand up and admit it when he’s wrong and be a man about it!! I realize very few men behave that way, and I realize the little thing is not even 4 yet, and I can tell I am being cruel, but I am scared of the alternative!! I don’t want to be one of those parents who bring more jerks into the world and end up defending their sick actions because there’s nothing that they can do about it!! My friend tells me that being too righteous is just as bad because it might actually lead to the same outcome, and the sad thing is that he’s right and I know it, but it’s HARD to figure out a balance, let alone keeping it!!

And that was just Beem!!!

I have double the worry about Mocha because he copycats his own brother and adds up more attitude since he’s the trouble maker!! I also have to watch out for sibling jealousy and be really smart about it when one of them tries to get the other in trouble (Mocha is a master doing it to Beem!!!), and I have to be very subtle about teaching them a lesson and being fair especially with how hillarious Mocha is (I respond better to good sense of humor than I do to charm!)

I feel tired just writing this, I can’t even imagine having to live it day to day, let alone doing it right!

I love them, I REALLY do, but I keep thinking “I didn’t sign up for this, I wasn’t even that enthusiastic about becoming a mother” (yeah not so motherly of me to say it!!)… A friend of my father laughs and tells me “if you do all the things your dad did with you, you’ll be safe; you and your sisters turned out great”, as sweet as it is, it’s not exactly true; MOREOVER, I am not the father in this scenario, I am the single mother and it makes it twice as hard especially when the other party is such a bad influence and barely acts as any sort of support!!
I don’t know how to be like my father when I still feel like one BIG child myself! I don’t think I’m fit to behave like an adult just yet!! I see now why baba did so many things I once disliked, and I feel for him.

When did it become not-ok to cry and kick the floor when things didn’t go my way!!

Overrated…

He said “you don’t get it, it’s not my place to make any decisions; if you think about it, nothing is up to me to do for the time being”

I said “I understand, strangely enough, it is my decision but I can’t seem to make anything happen, at least not to my liking!”

He laughed “my point exactly!”

I said nothing.

I hate it when someone is that right...

I hate it even more when I am finally capable of making up my mind only to be forced to keep it to myself until it’s time.

B tells me I should learn to be patient and that patience is my ultimate lesson if anything!

B tells me to stop rushing everything and learn to sit back and live each day at a time instead of wasting my present hoping for a future that may not bring me the happiness I anticipate.

B tells me to pray for whatever is good for me and to not label it because we humans never really know what’s best for us.

B is my Zen master, my religious friend who always sets me straight when my faith weakens.

B is also right!

Problem is...

It’s much simpler for everyone to see how all I can and should do is let go, have faith and stop trying to define and understand things that are just beyond me.

All of a sudden, I have to fight my nature of trying to make sense of everything and accept the life I never really owned until so recently only to find it already a mess I cannot seem to set straight!

If I were watching a movie, I’d feel sorry for the lead actress, but in real life, I resent self pity and it makes me want to struggle harder to do the exact things I should not be doing.

My only alternative otherwise is to stop wanting to live, lose hope and wait for the day I die; because waiting for the day you live is just like waiting for the day you die, only dying is more guaranteed.

All I want to is to live, doing a few of the things I want so that when my time comes I can say I did at least one thing my way! But it looks like living is a luxury I simply can’t afford, and ironically, neither can I afford dying!

I hope B is not reading this; he’d be disappointed at me for not living up to my potential!! Turns out that my potential is among the rest of the things that are simply overrated!

Can I sleep all this out?

Will you wake me up when it’s my birthday to remind me that one more year was wasted for the sake of God knows what! Just if you do, tuck me back in to sleep off one more year. After all, what's a year? Only another thing that's overrated.

This is what I'm singing to myself...

The Details in the Fabric

Calm down...

Deep breaths...

And get yourself dressed... instead Of running around

And pulling all your threads saying

Breaking yourself up

If it's a broken part, replace it

If it's a broken heart then brace it

If it's a broken heart then face it

And hold your own

Know your name

And go your own way

Hold your own

Know your own name

And go your own way

And everything will be fine

Everything will be fine

Hang on... Help is on the way

Stay strong... I'm doing everything

Hold your own

Know your name

And go your own way

Hold your own

Know your name

And go your own way

And everything, everything will be fine

Everything...

Are the details in the fabric

Are the things that make you panic

Are your thoughts results of static cling?
Are the things that make you blow

Hell, no reason, go on and scream

If you're shocked it's just the fault of faulty manufacturing.

Yeah everything will be fine

Everything in no time at all

Everything...

Hold your own

And know your name

And go your own way

Are the details in the fabric (Hold your own, know your name)

Are the things that make you panic

Are your thoughts results of static cling? (Go your own way)
Are the details in the fabric (Hold your own, know your name)

Are the things that make you panic (Go your own way)

Is it Mother Nature's sewing machine?
Are the things that make you blow (Hold your own, know your name)

Hell no reason go on and scream

If you're shocked it's just the fault (Go your own way) of faulty manufacturing

Everything will be fine

Everything in no time at all

Hearts will hold

Amen!!

Wishing and Hoping

There’s an old saying, careful what you wish for

I have this as my greeting on my mobile to remind me to never wish for things…

To just hope and accept when my hopes do not come to reality, and move on…

Never wish so hard because you spend too much energy and you will always end up disappointed, whether you get what you wished for or not.

It's that simple, or at least it should be!

Yet a wish always finds a way to sneak into my heart and into my prayers…

And for whatever reason, it comes true, as farfetched as it could be!

And it's just never the right wish!

I just wish for once that the right wish comes true for a change! And by the right, I mean the one that would really make me happy even if I don’t see it right now!

If that is not possible, then I wish I could just stick to hoping and learn not to get my hopes too high; one simple thing at a time should do…

I wish, no I hope…

Sick and Tired

Despite all my recent attempts, I am still officially depressed! I am too depressed to even rant about it!

I keep wondering what the point of anything is! Nothing changes for the better; ok, sometimes it does, but it’s for a short while and then it falls apart again, everything!

I don’t even have the energy to feel angry or cry; I am accepting the way things are and I am tired of fighting back, que sera sera.

So for the time being, I am sulking in bed, defying my insomnia and clinging to every trace of sleep I can get even if I can hear my mom ranting or my kids calling for me.

There is simply no point of trying to be better or making things better; if things won’t be better either way, then I can’t keep on trying, it’s too draining and I am all out of energy.

I’m sorry, I don’t have in me to keep pushing myself any further; it’s futile, and in the end, something will always crash and burn, so I better not get my hopes up or work hard for whatever it is I most probably won’t get.

I am not letting myself drown, I am just floating away to wherever the tides take me and I don’t care where that would be.

And there it goes again…

He called today. He called from a number I did not recognized so I answered. I had the same feeling I get whenever he calls; anger, disgust and hate. He’s the same person who makes me feel sick, that I could tell even though his words were different. He wants a civil divorce; he says all my rights and those of my kids’ are granted except for sha2et el 7adana. He said I could consult whomever I want and that it was not a limited time offer like he previously mentioned. He said he wants a clean ending. Call me whatever; I want to believe him… I need to believe him.

His words made me cry. I kept crying as he went on and on over the phone saying the same things he usually says. My friend says he knows me well; I say he never knew me, he just knows how to hurt me, and he’s really good at it. I cried because I saw snippets of my past seven years, I felt them slipping away and I realized my loss when I didn’t feel his. I kept crying, until I could just take no more, so I gathered all my strength to maintain an indifferent tone as I said “khalas, I get your point, I’ll talk to my dad and my lawyer and get back to you”. He said “kol sana wenty wel welad tayebeen wel osra be kheir, salemeely 3al welad le7ad mab2a ashofhom”

I talked to my dad while we were in the car going to his cousin’s for iftar. I told him I needed to go through with that civil divorce he suggested, I told him that we could talk to my lawyer and arrange all the documents that need to be signed in order to make sure he won’t take back any of his promises. My dad was too cynical to buy any of his words, and he was too rigid to let go of the whole apartment thing. He says it’s my right to have that apartment, even though he insists that I do not move out and even though he had already decided I would not step foot in it! He says it’s a matter of right and wrong and that it’s 7a2 adaby!

I usually confirm with such ideal notions my dad speaks of, but excuse me, I am too tired to maintain that status. I need closure, I need it more than anyone could guess. I am willing to waive all my rights, I am even willing to consider waiving those of my kids as well to get it. Call me selfish, but I need my closure, I NEED IT. Why can’t I have it when he seems to have already had his. I don’t think I will be waiving a right; that apartment is his, and I know that in a perfect world, it would be my kids’; but it’s not a perfect world, why don’t we all wake up and smell the stench!

It’s called sha2et 7adana. My right to live in it ends when my custody rights end. It’s a temporary right that I don’t even want; it’s not worth me remaining in this mess one minute longer. I cried again as I talked to my dad. This time I cried because I could tell that his sense of right and wrong was keeping him from seeing my desperate need for closure. At the end of the conversation I made him promise that he would at least discuss it with my lawyer and that the conversation would take place in my presence.

I know my x is one hell of a liar, and I know it could be one of his tricks. But like I said, I need to believe that he meant it when he said he wanted a civil divorce; if that makes me an idiot, then I’m guilty as charged… I am an idiot, a tired and a confused idiot who wants out at any cost.

Hanging in there...

I feel too much weight, invisible weight yet its presence is very much felt…
It’s pulling me down, limb by limb…
My feet are too heavy to lift; I can’t seem to walk…
My arms are too saggy to carry themselves, let alone carry things…
My fingers can barely move to type, not even slowly…
Even ideas, they seem to be too heavy to float in my head…
I can move, but my movement seems to be in one direction; downwards…
I just can’t lift myself up anymore…
Like one of those marionettes hanging by its strings, the only thing that keeps it from surrendering to the weight of gravity and falling are those damn strings...
Only my strings are invisible and there's no way to tell how long they will carry me, with all that weight...
Will I be falling soon?
I wish I were a marionette; at least then, I wouldn't be wondering...


* Picture credit goes to Evaluna. Thanks.

It baffles me…

It baffles me that I keep saying things and contradicting them; how I give up on things yet still hold on to whatever it is that ties me to them. It gets twice as confusing because I barely know what I want to start with.

I say I don’t want the things everybody else wants, but I can’t find it in me to push them away when they come knocking my door. I tell myself that I can do without, but I secretly miss them as my stubborn self takes over and shuns them away. I do it proudly and I tell myself I know better, but do I, or do I just behave that way out of utter pride and narcissism?

And when it gets hard for me to take, I let my mind play its vicious tricks; I consciously project my fears and insecurities into others’ behaviors, my worst and most fatal defense mechanism. I focus on my flaws and magnify them and tell myself it’s impossible for people to get along with me, I build walls to shield me to hide behind them safely so that I can break down and cry away from people’s sympathy. But why can’t I give in and cry now that I had built my walls? Arn't they thick enough? I am too tired to build them thicker.

Why aren’t things simple? Can’t I just want to be happy and leave it at that? Yeah yeah, happy is relative and so is everything, and knowing me, I’d probably roll my eyes at too many things life offers me in an attempt to give me that so called happiness. Why can’t I stop being so picky about every particular thing?

My good friends tell me I am picky because I should be, because I deserve the best, but I am starting to think they tell me that because they ran out of words to soothe me. May be I should stop being picky, or perhaps just stop expecting anything to come my way and give up on all of it.

Sorry for the morbid mood.

One week after…

Ramadan is taking its toll on me; it’s the first time that I find fasting that disorienting! It could be due to the caffeine deprivation since I have been guilty of some serious caffeine abuse during the past year. No craving, just utter disorientation!

I am too tired, exhausted actually. I sleep more hours that any self proclaimed insomniac should, I am too ashamed of myself, and I am even considering changing my name to sleepy-head.

And I haven’t even gotten all spiritual yet like everyone else seems to be! I am not sure my faith is that much intact that way. It adds to my guilt that I’m having terrible music obsession when everyone else I know is listening and/or reading Quran! It feels wrong somehow!!

Too many thoughts are crowding my head and I am too woozy and drowsy to even think or write them out of my system! Ramadan me3aslag ma3aya awy awy, and I can’t get into the whole Ramadan spirit, I am starting to feel so incompetent and that something is seriously wrong with me!

I do not blame Ramadan, I blame the people who overrate their joy and make it seem obligatory to feel the same way. Well, I don’t feel the spirit of Ramadan, so sue me!! And while I’m at it, I almost never feel that spirit, and neither do I feel that of El Eid! To me, it’s all about the social pretenses one has to go through to make loved ones happy (as well as not so loved ones) and it takes away whatever spiritual sense left in me, assuming I had much aslan!

I would wish you a blessed Ramadan, except that obviously it would sound too cliché coming from me, since you know better :-/

A reoccurring thought!

Due to current events, as well as the not so great previous ones, I have been contemplating and trying to figure out a few things about myself using the information newly revealed by my therapist.

Here is what I could come up with…

I know I am hard maintenance and I know I am impossible to make up when angry. I have come to realize it's partially because I usually get too hurt beyond my ability to deal or express my feelings which is due to pushing myself too hard or allowing others to do the honors.

In the past few months, after my yelling contest with mid sis, which caused some piling up until the time that followed around a week before my birthday, in addition to my incident with baby sis, as well as the couple of times I stood before that jerk of a judge and , one thought kept surfacing. A thought that had lingered quite often during my last few months with my x. I could be that horrible I could be that impossible to endure or even tolerate!

I know all my flaws, or at least most of them. I’m proud to say I have worked on quite a few; I learned how to be tolerant and accepting of others and I toned down the attitude, plus a few lessons here and there. However, the truth remains; I am such a highly charged emotional baggage that does need some serious maintenance. I don’t cry a lot like I used to, I don’t even discuss things anymore; I just build thick walls of silence and passive aggression that could erupt any second into active aggression and incoherent rampaging of words.


It’s very unlikely for me now to sit down and say things like, “this annoys me and that hurts me.” When asked, I say it actually takes me quite a long time to be bothered despite how fiery my temper might seem to be. I assure friendly strangers with whom I have casual chats that there is nothing they can say or do that would piss me off; probably because I have no expectations from them; hence, no room for being disappointed if they fail me!

It hit me that this could go the other way around as well! With strangers, we are more accepting of things we wouldn’t normally accept from the ones in our close emotional circle; it’s a well known and acknowledged fact, I remember reading posts written by fellow bloggers who said it more eloquently.

That leaves me to a conclusion; it could be a harsh one, but it does make sense in my head somehow. I am a better friend that I can be a daughter, a sister, a wife, or even a mother for that matter. As a friend, I can still be comfortable, yet I keep my boundaries as much as I preserve myself from getting hurt by not expecting more than people can offer.

I am not a high maintenance friend; I understand about the need for space and I am not curious at all; when D or H subtly imply something and I sense they don’t really wanna talk about it, I let it slide and help them around it without having to get into it, whatever it is. When they call in tears needing support or asking for advice, I instantly use my vivid imagination to put myself in their shoes as well as the shoes of the person bothering them and help them find ways to communicate, which work most of the times to my surprise!!

H constantly tells me I am her best friend and that the times she calls me and I am unavailable, she knows for a fact that I will call back regardless of my non-ending drama. D tells me nothing about how good it is being my friend, but the way she’s been there for me all through the past 14 years means a lot to me and I wouldn’t change it for the world. I would do anything for those two ; they wouldn’t even need to ask, and I would go the extra mile to make something work, and I know for a fact they would do the same for me! Even if they don’t, I really don’t expect them to, because I actually feel their love for me, the uncondional love that I only experienced once and lost when my late nana died, Allah yer7amha.

As for other friends, they are simply great! They might not be as close because we have not yet gone through the same things that brought me that close to D & H, and our relationships may simply not last long enough until we do. Nonetheless, when it comes to friends, I do what I can to be a good friend and I strictly refrain from favors because I don’t want to raise the expectations bar. Yet when any of my friends do something extraordinary, it touches me deep inside and it is carved in my heart until after I return the favor, and I never stop thinking of ways in which I can return the favor!

But I must admit, I have miserably failed when it came to my family(ies). I always knew I was never a good enough daughter, but I thought for a while I was a good wife and a very good sister; I could be wrong after all, and it’s ok for I understand one cannot be great in all aspects.

This brings me back to my above mentioned reoccurring thought… I suck at all kinds of relationships other than friendship. I either disappointor get disappointed. I don't want to do it anymore; it’s too much work and there are no guarantees, not to mention how traumatizing it can be when things fall apart. I’ve been there and I still am and I am sore and unable to deal.

… and the volcano erupted…

Three weeks ago, I went to my art therapist for my second time. I had agreed with him that I do the drawing at home and visit for the analysis in order to not waste time waiting for my turn since it seems to be really hard for my family to babysit my kids.

I remember one of my drawings was done when I was having a fight with my sister. Also, I remember that during most of my drawings I would remember something upsetting and I would try to put it into whatever it is I was coloring! I had forgotten about that until he mentioned it. He looked through my drawings and made a note about how I still seem to have not found myself, and then he said, “Your reactions tend to be extremely violent and aggressive! However, it seems they get that way when you’re really provoked and pushed beyond your limits; otherwise, you’re very peaceful”.

We were interrupted for a while and then when we resumed, I agreed with him. He told me that my anger was basically harming me, not those who trigger it… that my violence and aggression have a negative impact only on me. I commented that I tend to be on the angry side and that i seem to have been supressing it for a while now, he explained that anger is usually a reaction in the form of feelings that need to be expressed and channeled; otherwise, it would turn into depression. He said the optimum thing for me was to learn to channel my anger and express it in the form of being more assertive.

I was shocked to hear he thought I was not assertive enough; I always thought I was! Everyone around me always made not to subtle comments about my attitude and my strong character and how sometimes I behave more like a male rather than the average submissive female!! He argued that it’s different, that I tend to be too nice to those I care for, that I might pressure myself into taking more than I can handle out of my care and out of my tendency to walk in their shoes.

I tried to argue, but I couldn’t find much to say. He proved his point by referring to my x and how I endured more than I should have and waited until I was pushed too hard and simply couldn’t take anymore. He warned me that I should not allow those who love me to push me beyond my limits. He said I should make my boundaries clear and explain the things I am not willing to take clearly enough in a black/white kinda way; that I should be more assertive that way.

I have been thinking about that since that last session. I’ve been watching myself dealing with my family. As a matter of fact, my friends know my boundaries, they have all experienced angry me and they simply know how to avoid her; nonetheless, my family never knew how to avoid angry me although they have had numberless encounters with her!!

In the past three weeks, I have been on the verge of losing my temper with my mom and my two sisters, and I have really wanted to talk to them and practice my therapist’s advice because I did not want to start having grudges with people I care for. I’ve been putting off that kind of talk for until I am calm enough to do it in an assertive way rather than an angry way.

Seems like I have been putting it off for quite a long time… because today I erupted.

I find my mom pretty abusive with her words and her implications. I feel that she always gives me the biggest dosage because I am the one who fails to ignore her. She’s been making not so subtle comments about how much mess and noise my kids are making, how I should be a better mother when she herself has failed to be a better mother for me for the past 27 years! She doesn’t see her failure, she doesn’t realize that my sisters spending time in their rooms or out with friends to avoid communicating with her.

My parents do not understand my daily battle with myself talking myself out of blaming them. I hate blaming people, especially when it has to do with my own wrong decisions… but here are the facts…

My parents were suffocating me since before I have become a teenager; strict curfews, continuous invasion of my privacy, and constant abuse of my social life!! They made marriage sound more like a getaway plan rather than a choice, so finding someone I loved made it even better; I dressed him on a shiny armor and put him on a white horse and jumped with utter joy when he reached out for my hand!! Now that I am back broken, I will resume the life style they once imposed on me out of their protection of me from what people would think of a divorcee!!

Perhaps I would have been more accepting of it if they applied the same kind of treatment with my younger sisters. But no!! they seem to give them more space to do things I was never allowed to and until now I don’t think I would be allowed to do!! It drives me crazy that I actually had to tell a lie about where I was the other day to have a couple of hours with a friend!! I am 27 for the love of God!!! 7aga teksef!! I know my sisters lie and twist facts a lot to get away with whatever it is they want to do; I taught them that, but to do it myself at this age is just humiliating.

I NEED A BREAK PEOPLE… I am sorry if you find my desperate need for a break too much to ask for or think it’s some sort of an irresponsible behavior. If you call this irresponsible, what do you call what my x has been doing!! Ok, strike that, I refuse to be compared to him. But I do need a break, I think I deserve one and I don’t think it’s a selfish thing to have one, no strings attached. I want a peaceful night were I can simply watch the stars in the sky and listen to my music, I need a massage, I need time with my best friend were I can catch up without having to watch out for either beem or mocha and worry about them harming themselves or each other!!

Now my two sisters… I’ve been passive aggressive with both for a while now, but I am sorry gals, you really have been pushing me! Both of you know that I love you too insanely and that the thought of us getting that distant is extremely painful to me… but lately, it seems like you don’t give the slightest care, and it hurts.

You don’t have to be that condescending, you don’t need to detach that way, you don’t need to judge that much, you don’t have to be that insensitive with all the things you say, do and even imply!! You are four years and six years younger than me and alhamdulilah neither of you have done my mistakes and if you still want me in your lives as a friend, not just a sister, I will always make sure you don’t repeat any of my mistakes, but it seems you don’t even care that much for me as a sister.

I don’t even know how to explain it in details because it’s too raw and I am too sore that way!!

I detach when strangers piss me off. I simply act all snobbish and arrogant and stop sympathizing. Lately you’ve been hurting me in so many ways and treating me in this particular way as if I did something terrible, and I am sorry but I don’t see what I have done; if anything, I think I should start acting that way and start detaching for preservation purposes.

And no, I have not started it and yours is not a reaction to something I have done like you keep saying. That day you wrote that you only react, I tried to think of my action so hard but I couldn't put my hand on it! If I had done anything that earned me that so called reaction, I would have taken it better, because I am very aware of my actions and I do take full responsibility for them. And this makes it hurt even more.

My dear family, you think I have been taking enough time to heal and stand back on my feet. In fact, you’ve supported me for quite a while, and I am thankful, but I have not healed yet, and I am sorry if by saying that I seem like a whining b!^$# but I have not healed! I am feeling better; I started feeling better with your help, but now, you’re denying me that help and suggesting that I don’t even deserve it!!

I wanna lash out and tell you that I don’t need your help or your support and that I would rather move out and rely on myself. But sadly, I can’t; and the fact that I can’t makes it twice as hard for me to suck it up and adapt. How can I adapt when I feel so helpless and dependant?! Every time I see things for what they are that way, I resent my life and I resent my choices. I try not to blame anyone but me, and usually I blame no one but myself.

I blame me for taking a lot more than I can handle from each and every one I cared for. I blame myself for walking in too many shoes when the ones I care for did not bother walking in mine when I needed it the most! I am ashamed at myself for that, because I always always believed that any relationship has to be both ways, and that one should never give more than they take unless at other times they take more than they give. Looks like I gave too much and when I needed to take some more than I gave my check bounced.

I am not badly hurt or heartbroken; I am not even that disappointed. I have already talked to my mother in an erupting manner followed by a calmer manner. As usual, she had to misinterpreted some of what I said into siblings jealousy which infuriated me, but I explained that I never wanted anything my sisters had that I didn’t, simply because I am aware than I had other things they never had, she will never get it though. But I decided to talk to my sisters; if not today, then perhaps when they read this… they’re welcomed to come discuss it provided they don’t do it when I am in one of my pseudo happy moods, I cherish those and I would hate to have them ruined because they are the closest I get to happy.

So there, the volcano erupted, and alhamdulilah it wasn’t that bad. It was much worse in my head.

Close enough to craziness...

I’m tired
I know it’s only natural, but that’s not what I meant...
I’ve been tired since before it had started!
I’ve been disillusioned and disappointed before I had made up my mind; and that was tiring
People have no idea what their words can do, or even their silences...
No one knew how tired I already was before it even started...
They assumed I was ready and prepared just because I insisted on saying I was...
Sometimes they would say but you’re too young and weak, this will be too much...
Some other times they shoot me with their condemning looks for being too strong for a woman!
But I am neither that strong, nor that weak...
I am just tired...

I could use a break, but I don’t seem to be getting any!
It’s not about whining or complaining; I am aware of my blessings...
I count them everyday, I promise...
But when I feel that tired and sleep deprived, my mind plays its vicious tricks on me...
I realize how decayed my social life is...
I am confronted by my dead-end life...
The numberless responsibilities and decisions I have to make...
And I’m overwhelmed, scared, and mostly tired...

Sometimes I pretend it never happened... any of it...
I did not find myself where I am; in fact, I am still at the very beginning...
One look in the mirror ends my pretences, one look!
Whenever I walk past a mirror, I see her... me
She’s different from how I remember her, everything about her is different!
Yeah, the same hair color, the same eye color... but not the same face!
I catch myself lingering at that person in the mirror trying to figure out how someone who looks exactly the same can somehow look so different!!
People could simply mistake it for vanity... I wish it were!

Every night before I surrender to my insomnia and settle for whatever half-awake sleep it allows me to have, I dream of a better place... better times...
In the past, present or even the future...
I think of one moment of peace and happiness and focus on it, hoping I would be able to expand it and live it over and over again
I overlook the mark his ring left on my finger that for some reason itches from time to time
I pretend to forget the scar left by my c-sections that hurts in my head despite it being dead tissue!
I forget the calls that get me out of my very few fun moments out with friends reminding me I have responsibilities...
I forget how vulnerable my kids are and how much they need me to be a mother, not this

Then, all my attempts of finding my own fantasyland are interrupted...
By a screaming baby, the callings of a child, the yelling of a parent, or simply an unwelcomed phone call
Denying me my dreams, the little sleep I was about to have
And even worse, reminding me that I won’t be having much from now on
Now, how can I not be tired?