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!

Another insomniac night…

23:00 (or so) – I go to bed so that I can wake up at six and drive to Cairo, and be on my desk on time.

01:10 – I open my eyes for absolutely no reason… I toss and turn in bed until I dose off.

02:20 – I open my eyes again! Could it be the headache? I keep trying to convince myself to sleep again until all of a sudden, I burst into tears, too many tears! I barely walk to the bathroom, splash cold water on my face and go back in bed and dose off again.

02:45 – Beem screams in his sleep, so I reach out to his bed, and tell him “ana hena ya beem”, he says he wants to go to the bathroom, I switch the light on, and wait for him until he’s back and tuck him in bed, then I fall asleep again!

03:30 – I open my eye again to realize that I was just having a nightmare of someone trying to get into my hotel room, and that Beem was scared. I feel like someone was literally pulling the headache out of my eyes and nostrils and that my scull feels like it has been shaken and rattled all night long! Se3bet 3alaya nafsy tany but I couldn’t even cry; I was too tired! I take off my sweatshirt, and sleep in my t-shirt under the covers.

06:00 – I hear the humming of Manha de Carnaval, my alarm is off, I snooze and stay in bed trying to convince myself to get up from under the covers. I finally reach out for my sweatshirt and put it on. As tired as I was, I just didn’t think I could sleep one more minute and get startled that way again!


I made it to work on time; actually, I am never on time when I leave from home, which is in the same neighborhood as my work!! All through the way, I listened to music and kept the windows of my car opened as I was driving at a 120km/hr speed!

I am just realizing now that I am both sleepy and hungry, and the headache is coming back! My boss told me I could go home, but I know I won’t get any sleep with that insomnia! Oh, and that night was after an entire coffee-free day!!!!!!

I think this sums it up!

I bought my beautiful red laptop almost two years ago. I call it DelLayla (because it’s Dell, and because I wanted to have a daughter and name her Layla – and I am not having anymore kids khalas). DelLayla is around a year younger than Mocha, she has a scratch on the mouse left button and the letter ‘A’ and it hurts my eyes every time I see them. I thought of selling her and getting a new one, but when I checked the ones available online, I didn’t find one exactly like her, so I promised to keep her until she’s obsolete… oh, and she still has some time, I made her long lasting.

Less than two months after I got myself a new phone for my own birthday, Beem bruised its speaker. A couple of weeks ago, I slipped it inside my purse loosely inserted in its pouch and my keys scratched a part of its screen. Every time I look at my cute red E71, I can’t help but feel the urge to either fix it, or get a new one! Ironically, I only want one exactly similar to it!!

Since the mirror thing, and after enough sanay3eya have tampered with my car during the past week, I can’t stop thinking about selling it and getting a new one. I am not big on the color, but I want something as convenient and within the same price range, only the upgrade of the same model doesn’t attract me the least bit!! I’d go for the older model if I find it in a different color!

It’s exactly the same with my life! It has too many bruises all over, and I constantly want to change it, but I can’t seem to find a different one that suits me! This life is MINE, with all its sad drama and its inconveniences, it still holds my memories, the good ones and the bad ones that shaped me… it holds my kids, who whether I like it or not, remain the one thing that keeps me together even when I no longer have it in me to care! It’s my life, and I do not get another one, and I constantly feel that I’ve messed it up beyond repair; I feel like I’m just waiting until it ends, just like I wait for DelLayla, my phone, and my car to stop functioning so that I won’t feel guilty about throwing them away.

My life is a mess beyond repair. I know it, and try as I might; there is no way of fixing it! Trust me, I’ve seen all the angles and considered all the possibilities, none seems to fit.

Can I just get a new one? I wish I could; I can’t even daydream of a new one because this one keeps haunting me every single minute!

Oh well…

Let this find you wherever you go…

I wish you’d cry in blood all the rivers that gushed from my eyes…

I wish you’d taste manure in your throat for every time I tasted blood in mine after every nosebleed you caused…

I wish your guts would be filled with puss just like you filled mine with fear,anxiety, and desperation…

I wish you’d feel that painful rage stiffening your neck and wrecking your nerves for every time I couldn’t breathe because I was too angry…

I wish nightmares would haunt all your sleeping hours depriving you from any peace and quiet, just like you keep taking mine away…

I wish looks would kill, and that would have you taken care of…

But most of all, I wish you’d disappear, like you never even existed, and that my kids would do well without you…

This is not hate, this is anger, and I hope it burns no one else but you, for it has already gotten to me! I just hope it would be inflicted on you multiplied by millions…

Oh, and in case none of that ever happens, I wish I could find the ability to use all my curse words in one long abusive sentence that would insult you like you’ve never been insulted, badal ma batahteh zay el habla every time you get on my poor nerves…

It’s just hard to explain…

What is happiness?

Is it laughing your heart out? Is it your face blushing with the warmth of those around you? Is it smiling from ear to ear with bright and shiny eyes? Is it contentment and gratitude for everything you have?

I always thought the above were signs of happiness…

Then what is missing? What the hell is wrong with me?

I am laughing my heart out most of the time, my cheeks are all red and my eyes are all shiny and I am growing dimples because of all the smiling! I keep whispering to myself “alhamdulilah” because of how everything just happens!!

But I feel rather sad!!

The kind of sad that creeps inside your heart and makes it afraid of beating!!

It makes me angry at myself for not being able to enjoy all the blessings.

Yes, I am doing my best to overlook that feeling and live each and every moment to the fullest; I literally drag my body to every single experience so that my mind wouldn’t take over with that unexplainable melancholy. But even then, in the midst of my so called “happiness”, I just don’t feel happy!

I am extremely vulnerable to all the little inconveniences, the ones that I know should never bother me, the ones I know didn’t bother me much before because I can always justify them. Now, I just see them loud and clear and I find my face shrinking with disgust!

I try to analyze my moods according to all the colors I buy, but it’s really hard; I keep choosing purple, aquamarine, blue, and then I have strong brown and beige urges, but then I try to focus on pink and coral shades because they bring out my natural blush! When I think of it, I realize I am only choosing those colors because purple matches my new shoes, aquamarine is the closest shade to green that’s not green, and I need to have green to get over my dislike of it, blue, I am just missing blue; it’s familiar, and no matter what I do, I never have enough brown and beige; like I do not belong to earth that way, as for the pink and coral shades, I am just living up to what looks good on me!!

But what is it do I want??? It’s not just about the colors; it’s about everything else I pick!!

Which color? Which mood? Which activity? I find myself choosing everything for a reason, but I never really do anything just because of the utter urge!!

Have I become addicted to sadness? Have I gotten used to resentfulness of all the things I don’t like?

Right now, I have some hole inside my heart aching because I can’t stand certain things that just suffocate me. I wish I could just scream them out and let them fester somewhere else other than my heart, but I am too aware of the potential and unnecessary damage it would cause, so I am taking the chances of harbouring them! I am not even sure I will feel better if I do otherwise.

I found out a couple of things about me though… I am a control freak, at least inside my own head; I want things done in a certain way and I get really angry when they’re done differently even when I don’t show it, and to make it worse, I am usually right, which adds up to my frustration. I also have serious confrontation issues; I’d rather be passive aggressive than point out my dissatisfaction, sometimes out of being considerate to others and sometimes just because I am aware of the futility of acting on my anger!

Speaking of anger, one of the main reasons why I’m angry is that I don’t get why it’s just me who sees all those inconveniences and get annoyed by them the way I do! I hate how my parents made me that way, I am really angry at them for exerting that much effort to teach me to be aware of my behavior so that I would not offend others! I am angry because I am offended by certain people acting on their rather dumb and extreme impulses while I have to hold back my opinions about that because God forbid my opinion would make them uncomfortable!!

Perhaps some day I will just say it and walk out without ever having to look back, just like how I no longer feel a thing about the x! I guess it’s part of who I am; either I care too much or I just give up and replace that built up repressed resentment with indifference, regardless of the person and how close they might be to me!! It’s how I mend my broken heart and my big disappointments; and the scary thing is that I know I would do it with anyone, even my own babies if they ever push that far!!

What kind of person is that who just punishes people by banishing them outside of her existence instead of dealing and talking things through???

I guess the kind who does not pretend to feel things she doesn’t feel, and find it hard to express her gratitude in words, and the kind who has it in her to leave her own babies to go on a much needed vacation.

I am tired of all the judgmental questions. It hurts that my feelings and my pain are taken for granted the way they are just because I guard them so very carefully with all the smiles and laughter and sarcastic comments. It hurts to be viewed as the cold-hearted-ice-bitch I know I'm not but would never admit to it. It hurts to be that sensitive and have people think of me as the other extreme, and it hurts even more that I force myself to fit into the role of that other extreme just to preserve my pride!

It took me two pages of rambling to get a big part of it out… there is more, but like I said, it’s just hard to explain.

P.S. I may not be feeling the kind of happy I wish I’d feel, but I am surely having fun, aside from all the enforced guilt… and I am grateful, for everything… alhamdulilah.

In theory and in practice…

As a child, I remember being called “noisy”, “restless”, and “smart-mouth”; I distinctively remember fragments of incidents where people asked me to “pipe down” or “be quiet”, or the infamous “shhhhh”. Yet, I don’t recall being hated for it; I was the apple of my late nana’s eye, my uncle spoilt me rotten, actually all three from mama’s side, not to even mention my youngest two aunts!! I was the grandchild for mama’s side, except for my late grandfather, we disliked each other! As for baba’s side, I distinctively remember how kind my late grandpa was; I can fairly say I loved him. The rest of baba’s side is on the usual good and sometimes not so goodd terms, which is normal given that we live in two different cities.

Probably something changed along the way when I was a teenager. I became more observing and less noisy for I didn’t have any significant mishaps at school that would require my parents showing in for any explanation. I was the kid no one noticed really, but I had an opinion about everyone I’ve encountered. When I tell people that I was rather shy at school, they roll their eyes as they say something like “ya moftareya, you, shy?!” And it never feels like compliment by the way!!

I remember whenever we travelled abroad during those times, my dad would push me out of the car (by yelling at me) to walk to the convenience store in the gas station and ask for directions, 2al eh “khaleeky garee2a”. Of course, until now, I am still sure that it was about the whole men-don’t-ask-for-directions thing. Bottom line, my dad always insisted that I should be roughened up, mostly because “al ne3ma tazool” and secretly because he did not have boys and I was his first born.

I never realized I took so much after him until a prof atcollege who happened to have have graduated from the same college as my dad said “fe3lan, man shabah abah...”! Turns out that my dad was a real trouble maker –like I was in college-, the kind who stands up for what he thought was right and never backed down until he got what he thought was his, except that I did better than he did academically!

Everyone I know who happens to know my father says that I take too much after him, I must have mentioned that quite a few times. Even the things, I don’t take after him are pretty much influenced by him; a few people told me I am that strong because of the way he raised me and I am that tough on myself because I don’t want him to be tough on me. Possibly true.

In summary, I am strong, opinionated, stubborn, proud, kindhearted, responsible, ethically and morally aware, hot blooded, emotional and passionate, capable of using logic, socially smart because I am what he made me. In theory it is like the perfect result for an equation that took 28 years to balance.

In practice, it means NOTHING.

I am strong, but I have deadly weaknesses. Actually, my strengths and weaknesses are very hard to separate; I am deadly stubborn for my own good, but it is how I manage to stand up and not fall, I am borderline masochist in a rhetorical sense because I am too proud to be caught in fault by other, so my conscience (the big bully) takes it all out on me and no one else!!

I am opinionated, but I can lose my focus sometimes because of my kindheartedness, not to mention my stubbornness and my ridiculous pride.

I am forced by myself (and my obligations) to act responsible 80% of the time, which is really hard because I am a 28 year old who still refuses to see anything but a 4 year-old in her mirror image.

As for my so called sense of logic, it’s a joke when faced by my blind passion when I am emotional about something. Don’t I have my dad’s passion after all? I can cry when I am talking about someone I love, or imagine what it’s like for someone to lose a loved one! Isn't death one of the most logical things! I have my dad's crippled-emotions syndrome; until today, I don't know how to just lay in father's arms and cry when I am in distress.

And my ethics and morals, they are challenged on daily basis living in this world and having to deal with things I was never subjected to. things I never thought existed!! Turns out, I only have those ethics and morals because I only lived in my dad’s bubble where it was so darn easy to practice them!!

And socially smart is the biggest joke. It goes down the drain the moment I step out of that bubble; I am constantly stuggling in my head trying to figure out people based on their reactions and lies and pretenses, as much as they’re probably baffled by my honesty and unexplained friendliness or rudeness, not to mention my ever changing moods.

I am a big mess that my father made, and I love him to pieces for it, and I am rather grateful on my good days.

But today, I feel like I was asked to change all that, for him to have more peace of mind because he worries and he would hate for me to get hurt again because of the nasty world we live in, the nasty world he never told me existed or prepared me for!

I love my daddy. I generally love my messy self most of the time. I would change some of who I am for my dad or for the people I sincerely care for, but I would never change for a society for which I have no respect.

I know, not exactly wise, but who said I had one ounce of wisdom in me.

The only reason I could possibly (and very remotely) care about what people think of me is because now I know how badly it affects my dad when people say anything less than how amazing and great I am!!

It makes me want to cry when I think of how disappointed he might be at me because of an insensitive word when I know that deep down he is actually proud! It breaks my heart to even think of all the things he would feel when he is reminded that I am not that perfect. The thought of upsetting him horrifies because I know I'd want nothing but my own death the moment he leaves this world even if I leave my boys behind (like a 4 year old, I pray each day that his day never comes).

That’s why I keep crying like a baby when I remember how he asked me to act more like a divorcee and mind what people may think of me. He said it while affirming that he knows I do no wrong. He said it admitting what he never exactly acknowledged before “da mogtama3 qazer”. But daddy, you never told me how rotten this society is and you left me to find that out on my own in the most scarring ways, and I know I have a lot to yet learn that I wish I wouldn’t .

I don’t know how to practice all I know is right in theory, yet keep my head held high when I worry about you daddy holding yours high if you worry that much about the scum of our society! We Kaman ana lessa ma3amaltesh 7aga astahel 3aleeha kol da!

A Quote that got me where I started!!

"لو أن كل انسان عرف متى يمتنع عن اتخاذ الخطوة الأولى، لتغيرت أشياء كثيرة"
(موسم الهجرة إلى الشمال لـ الطيب صالح، على لسان (مصطفى سعيد -

I had a task to finish that book today. I actually locked myself in my room and began to read so determined not to lose focus in my surroundings or drift to something else while reading, like I usually do.

Until I came to that phrase…

I stopped to read it again, and when I was done, I read it again. it was captivating how that phrase echoed in my mind, how I could relate to it. I am sure everyone does, but it was one of the millions of thoughts that were haunting me lately and the words describing it were right there mocking me in a book where I didn’t expect to find it.

For a while there, I sat and tried to trace all my first steps that led me to unfavorable places. But then, I shook my head and decided that I would think about it some more when I’m done reading the book.

I went half way through the book until I felt rather tired and sleepy, so I decided to take a break and nap.

I woke up an hour later, having almost forgotten about that phrase. A while later I decided to resume my reading and as I read some more, I noticed how baby sis marked her favorite quotes, ones I liked, but they got me back to that one immediately because it was the quote that touched me the most in the book.

The book did not exactly fascinate me, not half as much as the quote anyway!

I can’t seem to get my mind off my first steps, at least those I remember…

Is there a way we can identify those first steps before taking them? Apparently, you can’t really take them back, it takes a lot of effort to fix the consequences, and it’s just draining! Why is it so hard? Why can we only see them in retrospect instead of in advance? Silly naïve me!

I finished the book in an attempt to focus on one thing and stop thinking about the millions of things that don’t do me good, but somehow it got me where I started… I am still mad at myself and completely unsettled.

Okay, I’ll try another book, but not today, I think it’s time to go to bed and struggle with my insomnia.

Evidence that I shouldn’t be left alone with the voices in my head…HELP!

*stupid stupid stupid*
-ok I am stupid, no need to rub it in!-


*ya ghabbeya*
-we ba3dein ba2a!!-


-I’m bored-
*don’t do something stupid*
-ufffff-


I sit and overanalyze…
The why’s and the how’s and what the hell’s…
I hide from my mirror image; she knows too much!
Yet she follows me every time I wash my face, and her eyes stare right into the thoughts I hide, humphfff!


Flu bad…
I don’t need more time resting, not that way;
I’ll have more space to overanalyze some more, ehe2!!!
I lost my voice, I am not even sure it will be back…
I don’t have the energy to talk, ME!!!!
I sit back some more…


I sit an observe…
Are those mistakes similar to mine? Was I like that?
In my heart, I know I wasn’t…
Damn you self doubt!!


*you know it’s not the same, stop it*
-I’m bored!-
*and hurting yourself is entertaining?! IDIOT*
-uffff-


I stare myself in the mirror…
My eyes are red, blood red, and they hurt…
A7san bardu, I didn’t want to see whatever it is I was looking for!


-I miss…-
*shhhh, sleep! It’s the time when you’re of least danger to yourself, etkhemdy*
-but…-
*shhhhhhhh*


I keep coughing in my sleep, I can almost feel someone is snatching my throat out and tearing into it with a coarse knife…
It’s too hot and I can’t seem to have any good sleep, I lower the a/c temperature…
I go back to bed and fall into a comma that ends with a nightmare of the x going all coocoo and trying to kill me and the boys…
I wake up to find the scratches on my arms and my neck…
My eyes are still red like I’ve never slept in my entire life…


-I don’t care, I miss… I don’t know, I am missing something, having a goal perhaps, doing something I enjoy, anticipating something I want… I feel restless despite being sick and I wanna go out and do something about it-
*etweksy*
-na3am!!!-
*aywan, etweksy, need I say more?*
-uffff-

Mafeesh Fayda!!

I'm joking and laughing as if there were no tears a while ago!

I'm telling myself that it was no big deal and that I better stop obsessing and move on already!

I'm too stubborn to allow myself to ache and take time to heal, God forbid I would collapse in the healing process, hasn't he said that in my stubbornness lies my strength!

So I lock it in, stand up and pretend nothing ever happened, it's easier, comme d'habitude!

I do it knowing that I am just burying something that will rise later to haunt me, and I am saying it's ok; I'll be stronger by then!!

But I know it will hit me when I need to be strong to make me weaker...

Yet I'm doing what I do best, I laugh and change the subject with a witty joke!!

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…

Arms that once held me…

I remember arms that held me so tight, arms where I found warmth, love and unconditional love, arms that felt ever tender, arms where I wish I could have stayed forever. I miss those arms, I miss how they smelled and how loved I felt in them, every night before I sleep, I pray I’d have those arms around me in my sleep like they held me long ago…

I remember other arms, arms that felt like home, arms that I missed for so long and lingered for with tears only to be wrapped in them for brief minutes before yet another separation, arms that disappointed me like no other. As genuine as it was then, it lost its meaning now for I didn’t know better. I miss those arms, I wish they lasted, but I would never want them back…

And there were arms I thought were mine, arms I thought would never forsake me, arms where I thought I felt safe and loved, arms I mistakenly thought would protect me, arms that squeezed life out of me. The memory of those arms makes me noxious and sick and I find myself gasping for air when they come to mind…

And there are those arms, arms I know are loving and sincere, arms that I know would keep me safe and protect me from all harm, arms I really need, arms where I long to be, hoping I would be able to cry my heart out without losing my pride. I love those arms, yet I am too scared of surrendering in them; I’m afraid they’d get tired of holding me, and I am more afraid of ever losing them that I force myself to do without them. I wish I could melt in those arms… no, I wish those arms would be there forever even if I never let them hold me, but I need to know that they’re always there…

There are also those little arms, arms that barely wrap around me, yet give me a sense of happiness and joy mixed with traces of sorrow and hurt, arms that fill me with hope and yet fear, fear of the unknown. I love those arms…

And then, there are my arms…

Arms that are only capable of holding those I love so close to my heart, hoping it would be enough to ease away their pain… Arms that want to be warm, safe, protective, and loving… Arms that are terrified of being cruel, hard or disappointing… I think of how much love I need to channel with those arms every time I hold my kids, I need them to know the things I can only say with my arms as I hold them…

On Boundaries…

Almost a year ago or something…


Looking into the random scribbles and smiling without looking back at me…

“You’re very aggressive. Thing is, you have every right to be; you don’t just burst for no reason, you hold it in for too long until you can no longer handle it and then you become too aggressive, it comes from pain”

Looking at me…

“Why is that??”

I smile and I shrug…

“It’s just who I am I guess!”

Still looking at me…

“It’s not ok because it gets to you more than it should. You let people abuse you in a way because you don’t want to acknowledge that you’re not ok, they push you far beyond your limits and you still try to pretend it’s ok until you no longer can… at that point, it’s pretty much too late for them to fix things and also very late for you to forgive them for messing things up… you’re already too hurt and you burn those bridges with both pain and rage”

Avoiding eye contact…

“I don’t know what else to do; I expect people to understand me well enough to not cross my boundaries!”

Still staring at me, yet maintaining the quiet tone…

“Do you know your boundaries? I don’t think you define yours clearly enough although you're very aware of others'; it’s a loose term when it comes to you because once someone gets close enough; there is almost nothing you wouldn’t take from them … isn’t that what happened with your x? It does not change that he was not a good person, but you let him get away with a lot of things he shouldn’t have until you no longer could, right?”

Nodding…

He resumed…

“You should make boundaries, clear ones, especially for those you love and care about because those are the ones that hurt you the most. If you let them know in advance that you’re not as strong as you come off, they’d be more careful… and if they don’t, at least it would be early enough for you not to hurt. Be as assertive as you seem to be”



He was right. Boundaries are such a loose term for me, not just with the ones I care for! Once I feel comfortable enough, I sort of let my guard down and make room for jerks to take me for granted.

Problem is, there is a nice-gene in there somewhere that doesn’t recognize harassment or abuse even if it hits me in the face! No not a nice gene, I’ll call it stupid-naïve-gene, and it keeps causing me emotional trauma and my mind keeps blocking it somewhere until the next one!

Ufff, when did people become so damn evil! I feel like an idiot just like my friend kept saying yesterday… no, not utopian like I kept correcting him, a complete idiot.

And now, I will try to figure out how aggressive I will have to be with that one! Given the circumstances, passive aggressive is the way to be… and complete avoidance, like the couple of ones before him. I see a pattern, one that I do not like, and I am thinking it’s also me, not just them.

Pending Reflections…

At the Physiotherapist’s…

“Just relax, let go!”
“I can’t!!”


At my Birthday Party…

“I am just too happy that I have nothing in mind that I can possibly wish for!”


My friend…

“Well sounds like you're surrounded by ppl who love you”

“What would you wish me?”
“Happiness, eternal happiness”


Will…

“Life is treating me well since my BD!!!”
“I think life thinks you've had enough”
“hehe, only it's never smart to actually believe that; life usually waits till u completely let your guard down”
“Well sometimes it's smart to believe that for a while”


At the Hairdresser’s while having my nails done…

“enty betsheddy a3sabbek awy!”
“haha, ma3lesh asfa, asly wakhda 3ala keda!”


So to sum up what I had in mind…

I am incapable of just relaxing and enjoying the good stuff that life gives me!

Yet, apparently when I am happy, my friends seem to wish me more happiness because I am such good company that way!

I worry… and I am too afraid of letting my guard down; it's understandable given all I've been through! Or so I would like to believe.

I am too tense, even when I am supposedly relaxed!!

What can I say, I’d rather be hit to the face as painful and humiliating as it can be, rather than being stabbed in the back; at least I can see it coming.

Today I was slapped at the face, and it still felt too personal and as painful as a stab in the back!

Bounced back instantly though; if there is anything for me to have learnt during those past few days was that happiness is too precious to be lost over such a jerk, or any other jerk for that matter!

I have a couple of things to learn… keep on my exercises so that my back wouldn’t relapse… and learn to bask in my happiness and enjoy it to the fullest; let my guard down and hope my happiness will protect me!

Still, hold on to the things that make me who I am because these are the things that make me deserve the good things I have…

So change, and yet remain who I am!

And I thought it was gonna be hard!

A not so welcomed déjà vu!

Listening to Nina Simone’s strong deep blue voice, I lay in bed as I try to recall the day and figure out what it was that got to me that way.

So what? I spent yet another day unable to avoid him as we took the boys to the pool. As usual, he tried to say and do all the things that he knows get under my skin and I pretended not to be bothered as I shot back my share of insults at his character. Pretty much an average Friday out with him!

I am grateful to how he keeps ensuring me that I made the right decision choosing to leave him, but I wish I never had to see him again and I honestly wish my kids didn’t need a father. I feel like I did something horrible bringing them into this world with such a person, he doesn’t deserve them or the way they love him! Touché!

I keep remembering everything trying to point my finger at what shook me so hard…

We drove by so many places that held not so pleasant memories; it made me more receptive to his attempts to ruin my mood. Or was it the other way around; perhaps he he said or did something that made me receptive to remembering all those bad memories!

He was mean to her on the phone. I don’t feel the least bit sorry for her. He said he was into someone else now, someone new! It made him see how he doesn’t want to be with her.

He made me hear him talk to her as he implied those meanings so bluntly and so coldly… and I remembered. I remembered the resemblance between the way he talked to her and the way he talked to me, I remembered.

I didn’t feel sorry for her, but I felt sorry for me, all over again! And I hated the way I felt back then, and I hate it now twice as much.

Later, on our way home he said he was not in love with the new one. He said he was drawn to her because she was “angelic” and that he knew she’d make a good wife. He said he knew he wouldn’t have her outside of a marriage. It sounded familiar.

I found myself those words when he asked me what I thought of it all “you don’t deserve angelic, if she is really as good as you say, then I hope she sees you for who you are soon enough, lest you will only ruin her chances of having a good life with someone who actually deserves her… otherwise, I just hope she’s like you”

Yeah that’s probably it; he ruined my chances as well as my kids’.

I wish him no happiness and no peace for he simply denied me mine.

Ignorance and Prejudice, two sides of the same coin!

That happened around three weeks ago, and it popped into my mind today as I was driving to work. I just had to rant about it before it festered and gave me emotional poison!

“you know them, you know how they think 7egab is bee2a” said by my good friend of 16 years!

She’s been married for a while now, her husband is more on the religious side than her mother’s family; he had asked her not to wear swimwear where men could see her and not have her hair cut by men. He also said he’d love it if she gets veiled but he’d never really ask her to do it because it’s her decision.

She started dressing rather modestly; no more shorts or sleeveless tops to put his mind at ease. Her mom noticed how she’s been dressing up so differently and told her point black “enty mesh hatet7ageby, mayenfa3sh, ana olt mesh hatet7ageby”.

She was telling me how she wants to get veiled to please her husband and to stop her family from asking why she no longer swims when they go to the beach, but she’s dreading their reaction because they think veil is not classy!!

It actually felt a slap to my face in so many ways! Not from my friend, I know where she stands from veil; I know she respects it but just doesn’t think she’s ready to wear it. She’s one of the most tolerant people I’ve known and most of our mutual friends are veiled… hell, I am veiled and I know she proudly refers to me as her best friend.

I just resented her family twice as much as I already did. Those people have been pressuring her into a life style she was never able to keep up with because they view everything religious as “bee2a”! I am not saying they’re ill mannered or generally unethical; all I am saying is that the only way they’d positively judge a “religious” group of people would be if they were filthy rich, but in a classy way, whatever that’s supposed to mean!!

I’ve always known her mom never liked me because she first heard of me when I had gotten veiled; you see, tant lived away from my friend to make the money which she keeps bringing up whenever they quarrel, so she never had the chance to know about her school friends!

Yes, I am being judgmental because that woman had done nothing to make her daughter’s life easier except send money and then rub it in her face!! Yes, I am being judgmental of that same classy woman who kicked her own daughter more than once for the most trivial of reasons! The woman didn’t even see that my bee2a veil had never influenced her kid in anyway, that her daughter and I manage to go out together and have fun despite how different our attire is! How shallow can one be?!

And don’t get me started on her brother! I’ve stumbled on the guy so many times and he never recognized me, not that I'd stop and say hi! To him, I am invisible. Of course I didn’t make it easier for him to recognize me because my defense mechanism had picked up on his prejudice and I ignored him back twice as much.

The same guy –to whom people refer as sociable and friendly- had small talk with the x when he met him in a business presentation because the x drives an expensive car and does the “classy guy” talk (Rasha, please try to not throw up!). When he told him he was Inso’s husband, the guy sat there trying to put a face next to the name and he couldn’t until the x said “your sister's best friend”, and I bet even then he didn't remember my face. I asked my friend if her bro had actually met the x and she laughed and said “you know my bro, he’d talk to an ass wearing a brand and driving an expensive car - he is sort of the ass who wears a brand name and drives an expensive car, only he’s my brother and I love him, and of course if he was trying to land a deal with your ass of an x, he’d be even nicer!”

Now, I am not judging people who do not practice religion; I am not the best practice-r by any means, I don’t even consider myself religious enough. What’s pissing me off is the ignorance and the prejudice over something that’s supposedly no one’s business! I’ve known people who live in the least “religious” ways, yet somehow have it in them to respect those who practice their faiths! I know of atheists who remind their religious friends of prayers! It’s called tolerance!

And for whatever it’s worth, I resent the idea that hegab is in anyway not classy! I mean, I believe I dress nicely, and I am very particular about how my scarves match what I wear not just color-wise, but also style-wise and fabric-wise! When H got veiled and people asked her why she did it, she said “I always thought of wearing it, but I was held back by the thought that it would be hard to dress as nicely once I get veiled, but seeing who Inso does it so easily, it made me feel silly for ever thinking that way”

I won’t say that all my friends do not wear hegab, but I will sure as hell say that I have friends who do not wear it whom I love and respect for who they are, not what they choose or do not choose to wear!! We like/dislike people based on their personalities and how they treat us, it is that simple, and why do people insist on complicating it?!

And again, it is always those people; the ones who are always speaking religion, or those who are always blabbering about liberalism! AGAIN, you guys suck!

And to my dearest friend, do not wear hegab just yet; I think you should only wear it when you’re not worried about any reactions be it the happy husband or the mad mother, brother and aunt! Either way, you’re a beautiful person who makes my world a much better place and that will not change.

Would someone bother explaining!

So I already realize people do not respond to me and that I am not in charge of making sure they behave up to my liking.

That being said, would anyone care to explain the following so that I’d stop obsessing and move on…


First, here are the facts that apply to me…


I do not know how to ask for favors, and even if I did, I HATE it… it’s really hard to ask favors even from those I love and cherish…

When my friends, even those who are not close enough ask for favors, I automatically do them without even recognizing them as favors; I only recognize them that way because it’s the word they use when they ask for stuff. I personally don’t believe that I am capable of favors; they are usually trivial stuff I think anyone other than me can do, so why not do them as long as they’re not much trouble for me, I am not a hero!

As for those I do not like, they are more or less eliminated from my calculations when I want stuff; I only think of whatever obstacles they might cause out of their utter dislike of me. Bottom line, I make sure I burn bridges with those I don’t like at all, and I am hundred percent sure I will never look back and wish I hadn’t; I am not a believer of “اللي ماتحتاجش اناهردة وشه، يمكن بكره تحتاج قفاه”, I’d rather die before it happens actually!

It goes without saying that I do not expect those I don’t like to ask favors of me; it doesn’t even cross my mind that it’s possible that someone who is aware of my dislike of him/her would be that delusional to think that not only am I willing to talk to them, but also I’d be willing to go out of my way to do something for them!!


Now, explain that to me…


How could people do all the things, the wrong things that would put me in the place where they are eliminated as explained above, yet have the nerve to ask favors of me!!!

Yes, I can understand that they might not like me yet have it in them to ask something of me… ok, not really understand it, but at least I know it’s possible to happen since people don’t have to do by my own code of ethics.

But to have already burnt most of the bridges, and to have done that knowingly, and then ask for things that require me to pretend nothing ever happened, and act like my usual decent and nice self (kinda), that’s beyond my understanding!!!!


The reason I am wondering...


He called saying he wants to take me and the boys to his family in Zamalek on Friday to celebrate his aunt’s birthday which is one day before Mocha’s. That way, he’d be giving them a chance to be there for Mocha’s birthday since as assumed they’re not on the invitee’s list (he barely made it himself), and to make it look like he could make me forget about the grudge I have for being kicked out and testified against!!

I just can’t believe the nerve, and neither can I find the right words to insult him for such request, which was by the way proposed as a suggestion!!!!! THE NERVE!!!

A Taste of Fear…

Disclaimer: This post is grim; however, it is not about being depressed or down, it is simply me trying to find/make up reasons for the unexplainable gut feelings I have!

Due to recent events, I am shaken. I am not the same me who was there three weeks ago. I realize it is temporary, I hope it is temporary!

It started with some things the x said and did, which until now I am fully aware are only half true, only I do not know/care which half is true. Yes, he gets to me in so many ways and that fact messes me up. I tell myself it’s because we share kids and because like it or not, he was the first man in my life and I married him for love so the shock can have the effect of tides; it washes off only to revisit, may be I should be prepared for that rather than fight it.

Earlier this month, I had two panic attacks, or whatever close enough to that! I only read about panic attacks long time ago and I always thought I am very unlikely to have any given how I handle my fears. All I know is that some Sunday ago, as I was scribbling to get ready for my Art Therapy session later that day, I rushed into the meetings room and started crying! I was so afraid, I felt an obscure fear inside that I couldn’t explain; I called Rasha in the midst of my tears, until I could finally pull myself back together and go back to my desk to ask my boss for an early leave.

Later that day I went to Dr. Magdi’s (may he rest in peace), and for the first time in a long time I felt close to crying in front of strangers; you see, I have shy-tear-ducts syndrome or something! Anyway, it took Dr. Magdi around three hours to make me a bit calmer enough to smile; he suggested solutions and he reassured me that I am on the right side of things and I should not doubt that. That was the last day I met him, and for some reason I completely miss his presence; you know, the idea of knowing he’d be there if I need some more reassurance along the way. It’s such a harsh thing to lose that feeling.

Even later the same day, after being confronted by how uneasy the suggested solutions were, I collapsed into another episode of panic and tears. I was too afraid to cry in my dark room all alone; I curled in bed and called H. She did everything she could to soothe me, she even said she could come take me out only I told her it was too late and I was too tired to get dressed anyway. I was babbling so many incoherent sentences about the things I’ve been told all through the week, by my mom, by the x, by the people I know, and finally by Dr. Magdi. I say it again, H did a great job to put me back together, she reminded me all over again that it shall all work itself out if for nothing, only because I never intend harm. Thank you H dear!

I pushed my way through that week only to be provoked further by the x; that guy couldn’t be anymore creative when it comes to pissing me off, and he has such a strong leverage, my babies! I am not sure if it’s that motherly of me to say it, but I’ll do anyway; I couldn’t stand being around my kids those days. I love them too much all the time, but being around them those other days felt suffocating. Ironically how every time I feel that way one of them falls sick! It kills me inside and serves as such a painful reminder of how much I hurt when they suffer!

To end the week from hell, after I had an attempt to shake off the bad mood with Rasha, I went home to know about Dr. Magdi’s death. I’ve never cried that much so instantly over death; death usually takes me too much time to process and react! It could be that I had just received help from that man earlier that week; it could be that he died in a sudden car accident, not due to an illness with an expected death. All I know is that I’ve never realized the profound meaning of “إثر حادث اليم” until I read it in his obituary! I found it really disturbing because the other day as I was driving I was thinking how Dr. Magdi was a God-send and how I could always turn to him for mental reassurance and peace, and there was that dark thought of him dying that I instantly shunned away, only the thought became a reality too suddenly for me to process.

I woke up the morning after feeling like I just had a long painful nightmare and that perhaps things won’t be that bad. After all, the x had stopped harassing me when he called me during my episode of crying over Dr. Magdi and he behaved in a “sensitive” way to an extent. Moreover, my mom stopped harassing me when she called me at work to find me still sobbing over the same matter! I never heard my mom saying “ya 7abibty enty 7assasa awy, we ana ma3rafsh Dr. Magdi bas ana 3arfa ad eh konty betesteraya7y lama terga3y men 3andoh” I never even told her my whereabouts when I was there because I didn’t want to deal with “therapy eh we habal eh”!

I guess I cried for as long as I did because I wanted to hold on to his memory for as long as I could by holding on to my tears over losing him. I am fully and regrettably aware that given time, his place in my mind will keep shrinking until it is rarely and randomly recalled; that's the way our souls handle loss, by forgetting. I just didn't want to surrender to forgetting him so soon, or ever for that matter.

I went to Dr. Magdi’s wake the next day with a friend. My tears had already dried and I was back to my rather cold and indifferent self. I sat next to a girl who asked me if I was a student of his, I said I wasn’t and that I went to his center; she nodded and said that so did she! It was amazing how a lot of familiar faces whom I’ve seen at that center were there! That man did touch so many lives; I wish him all the peace there is!

I sat there thankful that I was neither my friend who drove me there nor Dr. Magdi’s assistant! Those two knew him much better than I did and had to deal with more issues and grief than I could possibly endure, at least not at my current state! I almost began to find tears rolling on my cheeks as I realized I was there at the church bidding that man my last goodbye! That was when my friend approached me and said we better leave now. I felt my whole body aching as we walked to where my sis was waiting to drive me home.

Three days now after the wake, I still feel the same on daily basis; I feel strange unexplainable fear in my guts! I shiver occasionally out of both fear and cold, only I am not afraid and neither am I cold! I sit with people and laugh too loud and hard about things that wouldn’t normally even make me smile! I am trying to fight the blues that are creeping into me by singing happy happy tones.

I gave my color box to my son because I couldn’t stand looking at it anymore. I won’t be coloring anymore; what’s the point if the one man who made sense of things I subconsciously said with my colors is no longer there! I will have to fight in order to find the right words and hope they will reveal a little bit more than what I am capable to say, yet remain as properly understood as I’d want them to be.

I am afraid of death in so many ways now…

I am afraid of losing the people I care about and it’s too darn painful! I have always managed to pretend like it was not likely to happen or that when it will, it will me like when my late nana died; expected and wished for to end a prolonged pain and agony, but I am aware of how devastated I was over losing her even then.

Now, I look at my dad and I want to hide in his arms and tell him to never leave me, but I am the girl who finds it emotionally hard to run in his arms as he returns from Alex every weekend!

I see my boys playing and I wish that if I am meant to die anytime, better it be soon so that they wouldn’t hurt the way I would if I lose them at any point!

I guess what scares me about death is that it is a fact that can never be dodged or postponed when it’s time; moreover, it will always be sudden and painful no matter how we anticipate it and think we're ready for it!

I always said I wanted to die young because I was afraid of growing old and incapable like my late nana. Until I had kids and then the responsibility overwhelmed me and scared me of death. I remember Dr. Magdi’s look as he said “… but the responsibility is crushing you and driving you crazy, you want to be selfish but you’re too responsible to be…” he couldn’t be more right! Now I am afraid of dying because of what could happen to my boys if I do!

I try to go back to the simple view of things; “قل لن يصيبنا الا ما كتب الله لنا” and remember my dad’s phrase “عمرك و عمر اى حد ما هيكون أحن من ربنا على عباده” I try to hold on to those two phrases and I try to hold on tighter to my faith and pray, but my prayers are irregular and they lack coherence; I murmur words without even hearing myself as I do, and it’s making me feel even more afraid!

I am not accustomed to fear, and I hate it!

Art Therapy Revelations

Those were drawn through three visits to Dr. M (one amazing man!), but I didn’t get to discuss them with him until earlier this week. Although those were not discussed in the same order, I’d rather discuss them in the same order I drew them.

01- A Weekend, around a month ago with baby sis… I was not even in that much distress; I thought it was a skewed drawing of a tulip!

Dr. M.: This reveals too much pain and agony*silence* This looks like *pause*an abortion! *looks at me* Suffering and trauma like one feels due to an abortion! Are you ok? Is it true?

Me: *smiling* la walahy, da I was in a good mood 7atta! That’s a tulip!!!!

02- Same day as 01… I love the moon and the night and it was all I felt like drawing. There are black edges but the paper was too big to fit into the scanner! It was the first one she held after looking at all the other stuff and wondering if they were all drawn by the same person!

Her Suggestion: This says it all, *pointing at the other drawings* it wraps up all those. She has hope, but she’s surrounded by too much darkness; she keeps surrendering

Dr. M: No, it’s fake hope, or a wish for something better and brighter, you painted it white, you didn’t just leave the original white of the paper; you want certain kind of things. Did you start with the white or the black?

Me: White

Dr. M.: *smile* you want too much but it keeps hitting you hard, the darkness until it fades to black; you feel desperate too often after being too optimistic!

Me: *laughing* yeah it starts with white, then te3’ma2, then teswad, eswed eswed eswed!!!

03- Same Day… I was wasting my time; it started out as a butterfly and ended to look this way!

Dr. M: This is so dead! It looks lively and colorful, but it’s too dead, it barely has any life within. It’s only held together by a spiritual bond.

Later during our talk he said: so this is why your “butterfly” is so dead; you seem to have it all, the life a lot of people want, but no one knows your marriage is ending, has been ending for two years now, no one knows about your daily struggle with those you communicate with on daily basis and the responsibility that burden you day and night…

04- Was drawn two weeks ago, I went to get interpretations on the previous ones and I felt like I needed to get a glimpse on what was in my head due to the pressures I knew were coming my way. I needed insights and I needed help…

Her Suggestion: *pointing at the orange circle and lines and their yellow shadow* That’s her, right? She’s trying to find peace but she’s not able to reach for it; mesh wasla lel ard? We elly foo2 de mashakel we 7agat bedaye2ha, attacking?

Dr. M: *nodding*




05- I scribbled it while talking to my friend and waiting for our turn. I got a call from mama and decided to give her hair, something to do to get my anger out!



06- I drew that on the same day I went; I was sitting at the office overwhelmed and I decided to go to the Art Therapy that day, so did my drawings right then to save time…

Her Suggestion: *about #06* that’s her, she only sees half of things, the half that upsets her, she’s too focused on it *pause* or perhaps she wants to take a peak of something*about #07* That’s definitely drawn on a different day…

Dr. M: Definitely! She wants to yell in anger, 3ayza tesrokh *about #05* hena heya confused, shakka fe 7aga we mesh 3arfa heya e, she’s worried and curious and does not trust what she’s being given…

07- I wanted to put it all in one place, the green felt like bad stuff as I drew them, like poisonous weeds! I know I wanted the sun, I drew it first!

Her suggestion: *pointing at the red blob*that’s her; she’s bleeding, she’s in too much pain, she’s silent *pause* she’s in the darkness, but she strongly hopes for the sun and the clear skies*looking at me* your tendency to hope is amazing! I miss that feeling hoping for something and telling myself it will be good the way you keep doing! *pointing at the green* see it will all be good, you know it in your heart…

Dr. M: But the green is superficial it’s on top of brown from the surface; it has no roots*looking at me* the brown is an abandoned place, you in a way, you need care and nourishing but you pretend to have it, only it’s on the surface; the green is not real, it’s not making you happy, walla eh?? El ard el teen de me7taga care we tetzere3?

Me: *laughing nervously* la2, 3agbany be tenha, I am fine without the care, I just need to be left alone, perhaps it would turn green on its own someday!

Her: but it’s a good feeling in general?

Dr. M: actually no *pausing* it’s too much to be put in one page; she’s contantly divived… law baseety lel soora 3ala ba3daha, te7esey ennaha te2eela 3al 2alb, mesh adra tetnafesy *looking at me* malek, eh elly khan2ek awy keda?!!

I almost cried right there!

08- Those were my thoughts as I was scribbling this… “I wish I were talented; I feel like I have a lot to express, but I am not talented enough to get it out the way I would want to” I was provoked and I was angry and I felt desperate. FYI, it was the second one discussed, the first one was the one with the mood (the bright spot with darkness all around)

Her suggestion: *asking me* do you play any instrument? *I shook my head* *she looked at him* She wants to scream, so loudly, in so many ways but she can’t! and there are voices that are driving her crazy and hurting her??

Dr. M: not just scream, she doesn’t want to scream about what’s really upsetting her; it’s indirect *looking at me* how true is that to you?

Me: *gasping* I was feeling the exact thing, I wish I screamed! And yes, I don’t want those who cause my anger to know how angry I really am but I can’t find an outlet! And I am being subjected to words of other people that get to me more than they should, I know but I can’t help it…

I sat there for three hours!

I don’t know why I’m sharing this!

I realize he didn’t exactly tell me things I didn’t know; but he managed to understand what I did not say and validate it, I needed that.

He showed me that even when I was ok, I actually thought I was; I was just piling it under hope. That’s why I keep relapsing from good moods back to bad ones.

He said something about starting to do something instead of just hoping, doing something to make my life better and more independent so that I can start being myself for a change.

He said I was full of extremes and it was exhausting to be me!

I don’t know why he insisted that I was mentally stable nonetheless!! At that particular point, I would have so much settled for “enty magnoona”!!!

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…

I could listen to this all day!

I first listened to this song when I watched Love Actually. I like this version from the movie better than the original one with the perky guitar; I feel it, I relate.

I give you Joni Mitchell's Both Sides Now.

Bows and flows of angel hair
and ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere,
i've looked at cloud that way.

But now they only block the sun,
they rain and snow on everyone.
So many things i would have done
but clouds got in my way.

I've looked at clouds from both sides now,
From up and down, and still somehow
It's cloud illusions i recall.
I really don't know clouds at all.

Moons and junes and ferris wheels,
the dizzy dancing way you feel
As every fairy tale comes real;
i've looked at love that way.

But now it's just another show.
you leave 'em laughing when you go
And if you care, don't let them know,
don't give yourself away.

I've looked at love from both sides now,
From give and take, and still somehow
It's love's illusions i recall.
I really don't know love at all.

Tears and fears and feeling proud
to say "i love you" right out loud,
Dreams and schemes and circus crowds,
i've looked at life that way.

But now old friends are acting strange,
they shake their heads,
they sayI've changed.
Something's lost but something's gained
in living every day.

I've looked at life from both sides now,
From win and lose, and still somehow
It's life's illusions i recall.
I really don't know life at all.

P.S.: Looks like this will be a radio station until I figure out a way to let it out!