Every freakin’ time…

Me: but do I really have to come? Can’t you just go and leave me with the boys??

Baba: *in a firm tone* no, we’re going with friends, you need to be there for them; moreover, you and the boys could use a change of scenery away from the daily routine.

Mama: why are you so upset? you could use the fun…

Me: *interrupting with utter frustration* but there is NEVER any fun, I drive long distances while everyone else other than baba and whoever else driving gets their share of rest. We arrive and the kids are too active while I’m drained. Everyone wants to go discover places that are not necessarily kids friends, so either I am stuck ALONE with them in the room or a play area, or join to a place where I have to keep chasing them while screaming at the top of my lungs. No fun for me. And when we have breakfast or dinner, everyone keeps looking at me like I’m supposed to put them on leash and muffle their little mouths with food or go entertain them elsewhere so that everybody else can have their meal quietly! At the end of the trip, everyone had their fun, EXCEPT ME; and neither have I kept company of my friends, enjoyed a quiet night scene by the pool or the beach, and sometimes I don’t even get to see the beach because my kids would jump there and no one would help!!

We have this very same fight every single time friends visit from out of town and we go vacationing! In every single trip, comes a moment when my mom yells at me in front of our friends, pointing out that those are my kids and I should not be having any fun or ME-time until they’re old enough! And every single time, I end up in an empty hotel room faced by how tired I am of it all, and I sit on the very same edge of the bed and stare at the half-opened luggage as I fight the tears from pouring out of my eyes!!

Am I the only one who sees it? There is kids time every weekend when I take them out with or without their dad, there is ME-time after hours with friends alone, which by the way, I seem to steal away, or worse, when my friends bail, I end up trying to spend it and enjoy it on my own because that’s the only break I get!!! And those vacations freakin’ suck…

And mama and her hurtful ways as always… ok I get she wants to be with her friends bla bla bla… but hello, this woman barely kept any of her friends to begin with! The only ones she has are the wives of baba’s friends.

And yes, I know those are MY kids, I should be responsible, not her. But who is she to judge, ever since I can remember it was always “inso, take care of your sisters… don’t let them stray… take them with your friends…” and I am four years older than my sister, and 6 years older than baby sis!!

AND, on our last vacation, I left my kids with my parents and they left their with me. Normally, there would be no comparison since my sisters are old enough to take care of themselves, BUT NOOOOOO, she would call me and ask me about every single meal they had, and whine about how mine are driving her crazy. For the love of GOD, I cried so many nights on that vacation because of the stress she caused!! And when baby sis decided to take off to a different city on her own, I was the one who was left to take all the blame from every family member who had my number!! I was the one who managed the luggage, and paid the difference for the extra weight (because “you have more money”). So I was forced to take charge because “enty el kebeera” just like I am expected to act all responsible 3ashan “enty mamethom”

I look back and I can’t stop thinking that I never had MY TIME where I was the one to be taken care of, and it feels so freakin’ unfair, and yet no one else sees it and no one wants to give me a break because “it’s her responsibility and her role” what a load of BS!

So now, I am in an empty hotel room, both of the boys went to prayers with my parents and their friends after mama made the usual scene in front of a different tant and uncle and baba decided to just wrap things up.

I could go to the beach and have me-time, or join the girls (my sisters and my friend), but my mood is all ruined now and my back still hurts from a very exhausting week. I will just sulk in bed until I feel like I can put on my smile and my friendly posture, or until they’re back.

I really wanted to have fun, but it’s too much effort when no one understands what it’s like to be you!

Fallen

I admit, I was righteous, a tight ass according to many, but in my righteousness I found my comfort. Even in my constant struggle to live up to my own high standards, I enjoyed my pride enjoyed winning every ethical challenge.

In my own utopia oblivion, I always believed that the one thing I should always do is what I think is right; I believed in the notion of “wrong is wrong, right is right” religiously; I never accepted any justification for wrong and I never thought people would disagree on what’s right. After being slapped around, I learned to tolerate wrong from people and have it in me to see their “false” justifications, but never from myself... condescending perhaps, but in the most tolerant way I knew!

This was how I nourished my pride; this was also how I kept my faith. I always believed that if I could live up to those standards with every challenge, I would definitely have it in me to accept all my misfortunes and I would be able to pray for God’s mercy in times of crisis. This was how I managed to be patient, strong, and confident; I used my pride and my stubbornness to hold on to who I thought I was, and when everything fell from around me, I held on even more tightly and stubbornly.

Until today.

All my righteous notions and phrases haunted me so mercilessly. Today, I learned the hard way that sometimes what I should do, is not what I think is right. I saw first hand how what I should do, as not-right/wrong as it is, is still justified and somehow right! I was shocked and hurt and confused and… hurt, majorly hurt.

Today, stretching the truth to its maximum was not a lie. Today, the thing I took pride in the most, my truthfulness, was compromised because that was what I honestly believed I should do. I stretched the truth because that was what I should do for the one I love the most. I could not look him in the eye and beg him to spare me because it would have been selfish of me to serve my pride over him… meh, I guess I am too proud to feel selfish anyway.

I shivered inside out… and I felt cold inside out… and I could see my surrounding blurry doing as I was told. I tried to block the feeling and its humiliation by remembering all the reasons and all the justifications; I held on -as tight as I know how- to the context that brought me there as the words rigidly got out of my mouth. I did it when in my heart I knew I will never look at myself in the mirror and feel as proud... and it still hurts too much that I will be too ashamed to ask my God to bless and protect me and those I love, because today I took it on my own to do so, and I know I am not half as strong as I ask my God to be for me.

“some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall”

I just wish I fell… I would like to believe that if it were really my choice and if it were only me who’d deal with consequences, I would have chosen to fall.

Today was a bad day for me, for my stupid notions and my foolish foolish pride. Today, I only felt fear and shame, and that was a worse fall.

Angry Mode Alert… and time to kick some a**

I am so pissed off on so many levels to the extent that I am screaming in my head with obscene words I am not even sure I understand!!

I could write about five posts at least discussing each –different- reason behind that anger and ranting nonstop about how things are just not freakin’ right! But I am too angry to be coherent…

Now dear blog readers, I need more than your moral support (which I always ALWAYS appreciate) on this one… if anyone who reads this happens to work in the AUC, or knows someone who works there and has the right contacts to make sure I’m heard , please contact me on my email; in case my email is not clear on my blogger ID page, it is myoblivia@gmail.com.

Thanks.

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.

The Futility of the Dance!!

I have high hopes when it comes to people, but when it comes to relationships, especially romantic ones, I am extremely cynical.

After all, I have every right to be, having survived my own romantic relationship that led to marriage, which led to infidelity, which led to humiliation and divorce. I’d like the rest of my life to be of less drama thank you very much.

So to go by, I decided on a list of things to help me survive whatever the years will throw at me… here’s a sample

Love is tricky; you slip in fast, it fills the eye and the heart leaving the mind completely misled. Most tragically, it fades, it always fades, either from your heart or from the other person’s leaving you either unhappily honoring a commitment you promised to maintain, feeling disregarded by someone who wants to honor his/her commitment, or cheating (one way or the other) or being cheated upon.

Before you tell me I am being too hard and bitter on love, walk a mile in my shoes…

I have enough friends in relationships (marriage and/or otherwise), most of which are considering/trying to get out of them!!! And the ones who are keeping the façade of contentment are very obviously trying to convince themselves that they’re facing the bumps on their roads and that this is what relationships are like!! I really wish for the latter that they get through their bumps and find the happiness for which they are searching, I honestly do.

Having heard my share of stories, I have noticed how differently men and women see things; I get to hear the guy’s take and I get to hear the girl’s take and I almost seizure every time I find myself seeing how it’s all a communication problem due to the male/female different perceptions.

And no, I am not wiser than my fellow females, I am just detached from the problems having to hear about them rather than live them. When a male friend tells me his side of the story where his significant other is behaving a way close enough to what I would have done had I been in her place, I tell him how she got there and why she’s acting that way, I say it calmly after I acknowledge his side of the story and confirm that his point is valid!

That’s when my friend would say I am the wisest woman he had met, only what he doesn’t know is that I get to be that wise because I am not investing my emotions on him, I get to be that calm and understanding and let myself see his side because my love and care for him are not the kind that would make me hurt when he doesn’t see mine, while his significant other is blinded by the one thing that makes her want to be with him, her love to him!!! And to complicate things further, being detached doesn't mean you have a solution because in relationships, the only people who can actually make change are the couple themselves!! The irony!

This makes me think that the way couples understand a relationship, at least here in Egypt, they would always need a couples counselor who would constantly referee their relationship and advocate their points of view to one another!! Does anyone see how pathetic that is, or is it just me???

I have always thought of relationships to be like a dance a couple perfect over time; when one of them moves forward, the other knows that it’s their time to move backwards to give them the needed space. Yes, in the learning process, they will step on each other’s toes and probably get hurt from time to time, but the idea of them needing constant coaching is just… scary!

It’s exactly like this: my partner steps on my toe while moving forward, my natural instinct would be telling him he did and at the same time prepare myself that he might accidentally do it again in his attempts to master the moves!! But no one excuses himself from the dance when such an incident happens to go tell the dancing coach “my partner just stepped on my foot!”

I am not denying the need for guidance; I just resent the idea of having to be eternally dependant on it. Actually, truth is, very few people acknowledge their need for initial guidance; as far as each and everyone of us is concerned, we all know best and we don’t need anyone’s help, which is even sadder! Perhaps it’s the reason why we needed that kind of guidance to begin with - damn arrogance!

So to sum this up, in a relationship, being in love does not mean you were born a dancer! There’s a lot to learn about your partner, a lot more to learn about yourself and your ability to adjust and compromise things. Do you know the things you’re capable of doing? Do you know your deal breakers? I seriously doubt any of us knows all of those, it’s a trial-and-error process and sadly you only get to find a few with every failed attempt of a relationship!

I just realized that I have run out of things to say without actually making a point! Truth is, I have none!!! I was just ranting about my constant disillusion at relationships and talking myself out of any future ones because I just don’t have any toes left for a blind fool to step on them!!

*I got the photo off the web some time ago, so I don't exactly remember the photo credits!

Friend of Foe?

Do I see the good in people because it's actually there or just because I desperately want to see it?

And by seeing what could be fake-good, am I setting my hopes too high only to fall after disappointment shatters my silly expectations?

It makes me both angry and confused that everyone else views what I see a nice gesture as a twisted and conniving move.

How stupid, delusional, and naïve must I be? Na2a, at this point, I am not unique or kind or even innocent, I must be plain HABLA, not to mention color blind if I fail to see what everyone else sees in bright colors!! I am still not even sure who’s right, those around me or myself?

Could it possibly be that I refuse to see the bad like everyone else because somehow it might diminish my self-worth – people are playing nice because they want something out of me, not because I deserve it…

Or is it simply because I do by people as I like them to do by me!

I can’t believe I still expect the truth from everyone just because I lay my cards as I promise in my most reassuring tone that I will not flee even if it’s not to my liking.

I have honored my word every single time; I have always told the truth, and I kept a straight face and even a compassionate tonee when told things others would reject, and I never showed any signs of dismay.

As hard as it is to believe, that I’d rather be insulted right to my face than be lied to or used without my knowing?

Why the games? Why the possibility of being played? Ufff!

People ask for honesty a lot more often than they can handle it, and more importantly a lot more often than they are willing to give it…

I will never understand people; how could I possibly when I fail to understand myself on daily basis?!

Mesh la3ba!

I don’t want to understand people, I don’t even care about understanding myself anymore; by the time I do I will either be dead or too old to make any use out of it!

But my question still lingers – have people become that cynical or am I that out of place and the world has gone bad a lot more than I can possibly think?!

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!

Such a shame…

I hear those words a lot, “such a shame”…

When people look at me and realize I’m a divorcee, they shake their heads and very bluntly imply it...

“You’re young, too young to be a mother and a divorcee already…”

And it’s worse when they see my babies; you see, as annoying as my kids can be, they’ve been blessed with some sort of charm that I can’t really understand… it could be Beem’s radiant smile or Mocha’s big brown eyes that steal people’s hearts away!

And when they know they belong to a single mother and an absent father, they shake their heads even harder and say it with such disbelief and disappointment…

“Such beautiful kids, such a shame, la 7awla wala quawata ella b’Ellah”

Those words are not necessarily said; they don’t need to be, they are too loud in their eyes that it deafens me and disturbs my peace!

And the thoughts explode in my head…

It hurts to see my kids loving someone so unworthy, it hurts to see them getting so attached to someone who’s only there for them to get to me and make me pay for breaking free and doing it with my head up high without any sense of regret or defeat that would satisfy his sick ego.

It hurts me that I am not able to fight back and play as dirty to stop him, that I can’t get back at him because I worry about my kids’ wellbeing!

Now that’s a shame…

To have that much anger, hate and resentment for someone and not be able to use it to hurt him and cause him as much irreversible damage as he caused…

It’s such a shame to hold on to my ethics and upbringing, stick to right and refrain from wrong when every cell of my body is screaming “PAYBACK”

It’s such a shame to feel that much rage and yet still listen to that frail voice telling me that everything evens up at the end and that he will pay one day, and that he’ll pay dearly!

Right now, that’s not really enough…. I don’t want him to pay one day, I want him to pay NOW! I don’t want him to wonder what he could have possibly done to deserve the pain and agony I wish him; I want him to know it’s because of what he’s done to me and to those boys and spend the rest of his days trying to think of ways to fix it hoping his pain would stop…

It may sound like I want revenge, but all I really want is justice, poetic justice, the kind they spoke of in fairytales and fables, the kind I should be old enough to know does not exist…

Such a shame!

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.

On death, compassion, and things better left unsaid…

This post might make me seem heartless and cruel. Speaking about death usually makes me sound heartless and cruel, but it could have to do with my upbringing and how somehow I learned in the process that death is something we don’t talk about, it is something we should rather learn to deal with and accept, eventually. I understand it is only true as far as I am concerned and that it does not apply to other people.

Some relatively long time ago, when my nana died (Allah yer7amha), I didn’t cry because I thought it was better for her to pass away rather than live an non-dignifying life with the paralysis that left her unable to move or speak or even recognize any of us at some point. She was a strong woman who deserved to die with her pride and dignity intact, or so I believed.

Around a year after her death, my uncle (who had just turned rather a bit more religious) was talking to me about someone’s death, I don’t remember who exactly, but I remember saying that a short death is much better than a prolonged one. My uncle argued that the prolonged death is sometimes better for the person because it’s a way for them to repent and pray for Allah swt, as well as it is for those around them to earn thawab for taking care of them. He said I was blinded by my pride and life-related calculations, while the bigger picture is about humility, thawab and takfeer zonoob!

That was when I mourned my late nana (Allah yer7amha). That was when I kept praying that the suffering before her death was counted for more thawab and that all her zonoob were repented already. That was when I found myself wishing she had more humiliation in life for the sake of a better eternity. Oh well.

Still until now, death baffles me. it shocks me beyond my ability to cry and it paralyses my tongue from saying the right prayers for the people I know are dear to my heart.

Uncle A died around three years ago, I cried from the shock even though I knew he was terribly sick. I cried his loss; that such a good person was taken from such a horrible life leaving it one good person less, until I went to his wake. Seeing how strong his family was holding up, seeing how peaceful things were where he had once been, it made the peace seep through my soul. And later, I had a very good dream of him, a dream that meant a lot as my mom told me later. May he rest in peace.

Last month when Dr. Magdi died, I was shaken so hard. It was probably the shock of losing him so suddenly and unexpectedly, especially at a time when I relied on him to feel better about all that was going wrong in my life. I cried so hard -to my own surprise- over someone whom I barely knew, yet had such a positive impact on my life. I didn’t want to stop crying over him because it was the only way I could hold on to his memory; until I realized that I had special memories of him to hold on to, things I needed to remember for my own well being. And so I let him go with my prayers.

Two days ago when S passed away, it was another anticipated tragedy. She was badly sick and I knew she was dying after 5 years of fighting cancer that kept re-attacking more viciously one time after the other. I tried to use my previously learned lesson about death to not collapse or cry, I tried to find the right prayers for her, but I just couldn’t. Tears just fell silently without any control when I pictured her walking around us like she always did, right there while I was at her wake. I kept murmuring “Allah yer7amha” and I kept thinking of how amazing she was, and it made me smile even through the tears. Her strength will be missed, but her beautiful spirit will always be there in my head reminding me of all the things she used to tell me.

It could be that I lost a few good people whom I mourn on daily basis as little things in life remind me of them or when their memory just lingers in my heart. But hearing about the president’s grandson dying didn’t get to me at first. It may make me seem heartless like I mentioned, but when you had just lost an idol to death, hearing that someone you simply do not like had lost someone dear to him doesn’t touch you, you find your angry self (at death, life and all the people in it) murmuring “so what, people lose loved ones every day and they hurt and ache and their lives are forever scarred that way”.

No, I didn’t instantly feel any sympathy because in my head that man never had any sympathy for the pain people go through on daily basis; pain I can almost taste when I deal with people until I forget about it once I go by with my own daily concerns. Not to mention the agony and fear caused by the injustice and abuse that you hear of happening to othe people and thank God on daily basis that it is not yet your turn to be that kind of victim and fear the day when you will be.

Until I saw the photo, a family photo one of my FB friends posted with the little kid, the father, the uncle, and the grandparents. It completely changed how my heart felt and I instantly found myself aching. I couldn’t see people I didn’t know or care for; I saw my own son, and my parents surrounding him with their happy faces and I felt my heart clenching had it been my boy who was taken.

And that is compassion, the kind of compassion you feel without any control, the kind of compassion that makes you human, it makes you able to sympathize with people for whom you would normally feel no sympathy. The kind of compassion that makes you feel for people for their own loss rather than refrain from feeling because you’re judging them for their actions that you condone.

But like death, compassion is not something you should talk about, at least not in my book. You don’t walk around parading those human feeling you have just like you don’t walk around parading the tears you cried over a loved one lost to death. You say those things with a low tone of voice because they are supposed to come from the heart and they are not supposed to be for show; they lose their meaning that way.

So watching the Amr Adeeb segment on u-tube, the one with him urging the people to support the grieving family and reminding them of all the good that family did and make it sound like the people owed them that compassion, it made me angry. Sorry, but he was more like beating compassion out of them. Compassion is not something you feel because you’re asked to, and you never feel it out of gratitude, especially if gratitude is barely due!

To me, it sounded like nothing short of a cheap attempt to suck up by using a painful tragedy; if not, then it was just plain rude and insensitive, to all people including the president and his family; because if I were them, I wouldn’t like someone to beg others to feel sorry for my loss and support me.

I was not going to comment about that, or the tragedy of losing a grandchild for that matter out of my respect to the tragedy itself, and out of my own belief that such things are rather private.

Until I was provoked by reading an email a guy on the cultural group I’m in sent as a letter to the mourning grandfather. That letter reeked with pretense and lacks substance, and who the hell is that person and who died an made him in charge for him to say “Mr. President, I address you today not on behalf of the people but on behalf of myself, not as a citizen but as a human being…”! Speak for yourself man, and don’t trivialize other people’s feelings by implying that your words are good enough for them, especially when those words are not even proof-read!

Sometimes “el baqa2 l’Ellah” and “enna l’Ellah wa enna elayhi rage3oon” is much more eloquent than big phrases that give compassion a bad name.

I just couldn’t help myself anymore!

I have no idea if my fluctuating blood pressure is ruining my mood, or is it the other way around! All I know is that I found myself having this conversation!

Him: *walking slowly behind as he was talking to her over the phone and leaving me handle the boys all on my own*
Me: *looking at him and saying in an annoyed tone* could you please help me with the boys and leave that phone for a while!
Him: *giving me attitude* I am on the phone now!
Me: you can call her in 20 minutes after we drop you off, I am too darn tired!
Him: *rather yelling* I am watching my kids and taking care of them that way, but I am on the phone!
Me: *getting too angry and making sure she hears me*you cannot yell at me that way in front of your bitch!
Him: *disbelief*
Me: *walking faster and grabbing the boys as I was getting REALLY angry for losing my temper that way*

As I was putting the football in the trunk, my son had jumped out of the car while I was closing the trunk and it was stuck. For a second there, I thought I hit his arm with the door and I freaked. Meanwhile, he was still on the phone!

Me: *yelling* BEEM edkhol el 3arabeya la teddereb ba2a!
Him: *finally wrapping up the call and coming closer* gara eh ya (my name) malek 3asabeya leh we bettala3eeh 3al walad?!
Me: *trying to contain the temper* malaksh da3wa beya khales!!!

We got into the car…

Him: *in a rather scolding tone* ya3ne enty lama teegy tetgawezy, would you like me to show such disrespect of your future husband?!!
Me: *making sure all our dialogue is in English so that the kids wouldn’t grasp much* if I am ever to get married, he’d know better than to consume that much time on the phone when I am out trying to spend time with my kids!
Him: ya3ne mateteselsh beya 3ashan ento ma3aya???
Me: tetssel da motawaqa3 menha, but you should know better than to let it take that long!
Him: and what’s with the name calling?!
Me: she’s a bitch, here, I said it again!
Him: e7termy nafsek
Me: B.I.T.C.H BITCH!! And that’s the most decent word I can think of given that she was married when she had an affair with you while you had a son and your wife was pregnant BITCH!! Otherwise, her husband wouldn’t have left her!
Him: tetkalem bera7etha, she’s my fiancé now
Me: well then, maybe you should choose between talking to her on the phone and being with my kids at the same time!
Him: telephone eh, babaky is always on the phone!
Me: my dad lived with us all our lives, he didn’t see us once a weekend!!
Him: he spends every weekend in Alex because he can’t stand….
Me: *interrupting* SHUT UP! My father is a much better man than you’ll ever be, so I don’t think it’s in your favor to even mention him…
Him: *with a VERY sarcastic tone* ok your father is a great man, I am not a great man…
Me: *with more anger than I could handle* you’re not a man, period!
Him: nazeleeny hena
Me: *pulling over* enzel

I’ve never been that rude, and I hate that it happened in front of their boys and I hate him so damn much for pushing me that far!!!

I didn’t want to ruin the day for the boys, so I took them out all day and we visited my friend H and they had so much fun with her baby. I still feel guilty nonetheless.

Today’s Lesson…

I got in my car, so angry and determined to vent my anger at the right person. No more suppressing or pushing myself to live up to my own high expectations; I will do what anyone as angry as I am would and give that shithead a piece of the anger he so intentionally causes.

I was lost in my own thoughts and driving too fast when the traffic officer decided to stop the mainstream (where I was), to let the people in the u-turn pass. I was too fast to stop and I pushed the break-pedal so loud and I could hear the tires screeching too loud and my car off balance.

Alhamdulilah, nothing happened. I am not saying I was gonna die if I had that accident; my guess is I would have had a serious dent on the car followed by a nervous breakdown over bad things and only bad things happening to me lately!

I took it as a sign that whatever it was I was about to do was as crazy and stupid as my instincts told me, so I headed back home.

My lesson now is…


When life gives a brief moment of victory - even if a fake one-, ENJOY IT! Even if it’s on the expense of the jackasses who caused you such distress! Bask in their misery because the sad and disturbing fact is, jackasses don’t get hurt so often; even when they do, they’re so thick-skinned, they wouldn’t be half as affected as you do by the smallest of thing!

You “goodness”, or whatever it is that makes you feel bad about enjoying others’ misery will not be affected when you savor a brief moment of justice; God knows they do not come so often!


Now, next time I say I feel sorry for that piece of scum, will someone slap me on the face or hit me with a baseball bat on my stupid head and put me out of my self-inflicted misery!

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”!!!

Stupid Passion

Is it possible for someone who doesn’t know their passion in life to get so passionate over the stupidest of things!!

I guess so; I’m a living proof!

Months ago, my therapist told me I needed to find my passion; that I was lost and I needed to find my soul doing something, and that I had to figure it out. It made m look at him desperately asking for a clue but he kept looking at me and said I should find my passion on my own because no one else would know it if I don’t.

I’ve been thinking of all the possible things I could be passionate about. I replayed my life trying to remember the things I liked doing, the things I was good at doing, and there was the shocking truth…

I never really liked anything long enough to be the best at it; it could be because I was afraid I would never be the best, so I gave up at the stage of it being just a hobby to escape any potential failure.

Wait, it gets better…

The things I was actually good at, I kept them at a distance because I didn’t want to wake up one day to discover I got bored and stopped liking them!

How pathetic is that! Yes, my fickleness scares me from getting too close to things or people because I could either disappoint of be disappointed. Like I said, pathetic!

I decided to stop searching; I told myself my passion will catch up with me and find me.

It kinda did a couple of months ago, or so I thought anyway. It was helping people; helping people gave me a feeling of euphoria I enjoyed so very much. For a couple of days I could sleep better, my diet became healthier, and something about me was radiant, people couldn’t help but notice!

The Caller actually sent me text message saying I should do more work on the other blog because I am good at it; it made me post a couple of times before I went to my ridiculous state of hibernation! Yes, I admit it, I don’t know how to make that blog work, and given what happened next (or below), I was not ready for another disappointment!

So here is what happened next, I thought I should help people!! I contacted my shrink whom I knew started an NGO about creating awareness against violence and providing psychiatric help to those who had been traumatized. I told her I was willing to volunteer and take whatever courses and take a parapsychology degree so that I can do it professionally, no medications involved, just compassionate and professional help to those who seek it.

It was such a disappointment! I know my shrink could read this, and I hope she does because I never had the guts to tell her in the face how disappointed I was at the meeting I attended! It was only about raising money for a party that was supposed to help create awareness to the NGO. Mind you that the attendees who should buy the tickets, you know because of whom that specific singer was chosen (wa7ed aslant masme3tesh 3anno abl keda, but I blame my limited awareness of Arab singers), are upper class people who –according to the people in the meeting- only go there to see who got married and who is still man-hunting!! And don’t get me started of what I think about that! Anyway, all the talk was about sponsors and advertising and the tickets prices! No one mentioned the help we were supposed to give, not even for a few minutes on the side!

I know I know, I am too freakin’ utopian and I expect things to be in a certain way. I’ve heard it all before! Every time I remember how disappointed I felt I almost cry! I wanted to help people; I was thinking support groups and nonfinancial gain and there I was looking at people fighting over the best way to bag sponsors! If I wanted to do that, I would have worked in my field of studies, marketing! Oh well!

Don’t get me wrong, I am not an NGO kinda person; if anything I hate belonging to a bigger group where the goals and motives get confused with other things that have nothing to do with the cause! I inherited by dad’s cynicism unlike baby sis who still believes she can still do good even within a corrupt system. My good baby sister.

Today, it hit me. My passion for helping people is only the positive side of how I feel when I see people doing/accepting injustice! I can’t help but feel furious when I hear a story about someone hurting others with no regard to anything but their own interests and I get even madder when I see the victims accept their roles so submissively and endure the abuse and perhaps even invite some more!

I get so angry I wish I could turn into the Goddess of war and rage so that I can rip off the hearts of those who inflict pain! If any of the ancient mythologies were ever true, I would have loved to be Sakhment, Ishtar, Athena or Minerva who ironically also represent good things like health, wisdom and wealth!!

But who am I to mess with anger; all those myths tell how the Goddesses were blinded by their anger and ended up inflicting harm on everyone equally!! I guess I should just stop trying to think like a God and accept that only Allah swt has the key to all and that we’re all in a constant battle testing our strengths and beliefs!

My dad always tells me after bad disputes with my mother that I should stop behaving as if I were an equal and accept my role and live up to it. As right as I believe he is; I just don’t know how to accept my role if it subjects me to be wronged even if by my mother and even if unintentionally!

Deep breath in… aaaand out…

Maybe I should consider yoga like my sis! Oh crap, I don’t want to be around her anymore than I have to; Zen people get on my nerves. It’s beyond me how anyone can see the mess that happens all around and still be calm just makes me wanna hurt them or something, may they’d get as angry!! Yeah, it’s probably envy talking; I am not envious by nature but it seems that anger visits me bringing all its friends lately as a punishment for not letting it in enough, or perhaps locking it in that box! Kick boxing seems more fitting for me!

Anyway, back to the reason I started writing this…

Yes, I have a misplaced passion! Whoever taught me about right and wrong as a child screwed me for life because they didn’t explain that it’s not up to me to make everything right and that the universe does not answer to me, and that even wrong happens for a reason and hard as I might try, I will not always get it, not even often!

I am so darn angry right now I want to cry! That idiot talks about wanting to marry anyone we khalas as if other people’s lives have no regard as long as he gets his needs satisfied! How arrogant!! And the way he says “at least mesh ha3mel 7aga 7aram” makes me wanna kick him where it hurts!!! I keep yelling at myself “don’t argue, don’t argue; he’s aware you’re getting angry and he feeds on it, don’t argue” I would gladly hope he meets his match, the one who teaches him the cruelest of lessons only to balance his own cruelty, but I learned it will not just be about him suffering, more people will suffer, people I care about!

My only defense mechanism helped a bit! God bless heartless sarcasm! I gave him a bitter taste of it and then told him I had to go.

Only I found myself writing this post….

If any of my good friends called me to rant about something so mundane, I’d try to calm them and point out to them how ridiculous it is to get upset about the same thing all over again when they have absolutely no control over any of it! But here I am, unable to get so angry, so passionately angry I could hurt people!!

Darn!

Where is my art therapist when I need him! I can’t see him before next Sunday!!! And I can’t even just draw it out because my mom is spying on me, thinking she can look at the shit I draw and figure me out, or even worse make up silly remarks about me trying to be a painter! Either that or I am developing a severe case of paranoia!

Note to self: “people can be really sick and twisted, including you! So stop whining, get over the shock and accept that there is nothing you can do to change it; you can barely change yourself! Etweksy!”

What do you know, another incoherent rant!

as incoherent as it is...

When I’m afraid, I face my fears. Unless my fear is about consequences that are certain to happen and which I know I cannot handle, I use my stubbornness to do exactly the thing I am afraid to do. I am not bragging, it’s just how I function, and I admit it had taken me to all the wrong places; it’s not a virtue to live fighting with life and do the opposite of what everyone tells/expects you to do. For that, people who see my strength tell me I am daring and unique; they don’t know the battles I fight with my fear and the crazy things I do to win!

I can’t live without hope. Take it away from me and you'll watch my spirit wither and fade leaving nothing but the anger and resentment I try on daily basis to let go of! Yes, I have those; the scars left by my war wounds, wars where I mostly fought myself! I hope it will all be better once I figure out a way to like myself enough to stop all the fighting. I know I have it in me to be better but I get lost a lot because of my pride.

My heart is so… stupid. It’s stupid among so many other things, but stupid makes the top of the list because its stupidity has the power to take over my brains and make the wrong things seem right! I mistake a lot of things for the right things that way. I let go of my mind and its logic and the sense it makes to follow my stupid heart to where I overly abuse my mind and heart thinking about all the things others might take for granted.

My body is frail when my soul is that weak. And my soul is weak because I seem to take my faith for granted most of the time; how arrogant! My hands are cold and they seem to cramp every time I try to move them. I have a huge lump in my throat and I know I could use a cry but unfortunately I no longer cry the way that would ease my soul, I only cry the way that would hurt my eyes, my blurry eyes!

Every day is a battle to keep a balance that barely lasts for enough time to make an achievement! And I want so much of life, I want to make a lot of things and be a lot of things and sometimes it is too draining to be! I expect too much of people, but the tragic part is that I expect even a lot more from me, more than I can ever be.

And you, you messed that balance for such a long time. It gave me perspective on who I was as I was trying to mend and heal. I took what is probably my first lesson of self discovery and I took it through humility. I am grateful because it was an eye opener to a lot of things I took for granted until they were no longer real. It is knowing that there was something bigger to find and realize that made me find it in me to stop hating you.

Why isn’t that enough for you? It was enough for me! I know we’re not the same, but it’s you who insists that we are!

You just had to push until you made me burst! all you had to do was blame me and ask me to "think of the boys and think of sacrificuing for them before throwing us away" and I found myself saying those words...


Stop it, stop it right there… don’t make me set you straight on this one, don’t make me tell the story again, don’t you dare twist that story, don’t you dare believe your own lies and make a twisted truth out of them!
I was there, not just once, but twice, I let you fool me twice because I didn’t want to throw “us” away and I got my heart broken and I got my ego bruised and I took the time to stand on my feet, so don’t you dare pin it on me just because I am handling it better than you, because I seem stronger…
I am only strong because I resent being the victim but that does not mean you get to become the victim and make me the bad guy! I will not let you.
If you need to know that I have it hard, if that will make you feel better to know you’re not the only one who’ll suffers, let me tell you about my suffering yemken te7es be ne3met rabena 3aleik…
I am the woman in this plot, I get to be blamed by society unless they know the dirty details that you know I am too proud to share…
I am the one who’s either too stupid or too arrogant to a7afez 3ala beity we goozy…
I am the woman most of the other married women will fear that I might steal their husbands, or if I’m lucky, they will pity me because I don’t have a man!
I am the woman who will go to bed every night after I kiss my kids in their sleep hoping that my choice will never affect them in a bad way…
I am the one who tries to smile as I try to accept the fact that no loving fingers will stroke my hair before I fall asleep and no arms will hold me when I am restless…
I am the one who people will always tell me “but you’re too young to remain single for the rest of your life” yet would point accusing fingers at me if I decide to live my life in a way that makes me happy without violating any of their stupid rules, they will assume I am a bad mother and I am an easy woman…
It’s all me, not you… and I am facing those fears by telling myself that for the first time my instincts are backed up by logic and solid evidence… I am telling myself there is hope in a tomorrow, a hope that I’d be killing if I come back to you out of fear…
My heart is overwhelmed and it’s driving my mind crazy, but I know in my gut I am making the right thing yet I have to constantly remind myself of that or I’ll go insane!
So don’t pin it on me and say you’ve tried because it was you who sent me in that direction and I stopped blaming you for it!


And yet, you're still pushing!

Party Pooper

Today I was out with a friend having fun, pure absolute fun after such a disturbingly annoying day with the x checking out schools. I got my end-of-the-week treat; I was sitting in a chair listening to all my favorite oldies brilliantly performed. Some of the songs brought back memories to which I am nostalgic, I closed my eyes and smiled as I put those memories back to where they belong. My whole body was moving with the same rhythm as the music, I sang along at the top of my voice and no one could hear (luckily), I clapped and cheered so loud until my hands hurt and my voice faded! I was genuinely happy.

My friend and I left so that we can go home before we get in trouble, which is sad since we’re both above 25, VERY SAD. Nonetheless, we both found solace in knowing that we had a real good time and that for the hour we spent, neither of us had time to think of our crappy dramas and got to live a life we never really had anywhere beyond our dreams, fair enough, or so we contently compromised.

Until that call!

“Enty fein le7ad delwa2ty? Enty 3arfa el sa3a kam? Da kalam?” and BAAAMM hung up!

Seriously, this is unfair!! I will turn 28 in June, and it wasn’t even 10 yet!!! 10 people!

And my mood was dramatically changed, in those few seconds it took to end that call, how sad is that, how depressing!

I felt like crying. My good mood was snatched from me so abruptly, the sudden switch of moods had a shocking effect that made me wanna curl and cry.

How cruel, how insensitive!

I really needed that evening out; it’s been a while since I went out on a music night and I reeeaaallllly needed the feeling I get after those. The music just makes me forget all about my problems and my issues and I heal for as long as I’m listening, and I know I can willingly go back to my daily fights and struggles without complaining knowing that I lived those few moments. Why is it too much to ask? Is that so horrible?!

I know it’s useless to try and explain that to my caller, or the person who had him make the call. I know it will be a waste of my breath because even if I managed to get my point through, they will still find ways to make me seem irresponsible and selfish and whatever other labels they will feel like using. So as always, the silent treatment is the way to go; long live passive aggression!

Now that I’ve ranted, I will go to bed trying to remember the thoughts and feelings I had as the music was playing and just dwell in them hoping they’ll visit me in my dreams more vividly.

Goodnight.

Some unresolved anger

It’s been a while since I talked about the x or any of his detailed stories! It’s about time.

We’ve been meeting weekly on regular basis, we take the kids out on Fridays, have a family lunch and then he drives us home. To any outsider, we’re a perfect family made of two young parents and two adorable boys. However, if you look close enough, neither of us wears our wedding bands and we do not touch or have any private moments at all; and if you look really closer, you’ll see a dirty look I glare at him whenever he tries to move closer to me or flirts.

Nonetheless, I try to help him bond with the boys; when he gets them stuff I tell Beem “ben2ool le pappy eh?” he’d say “merci papa” and I’d tell him “meen bey7eb pappy”, he laughs and says “anaaaa”, and with Mocha I just tell to give daddy a kiss and he does. I love seeing how happy they are around him and how even happier they get when they get him to buy more toys than I would normally get them; I admire their intelligence and how they pick on how he wants to impress and use it to their advantage.

Between him and I, I tell him he should tone down the whole fun figure and act more like a parent when they’re being stubborn. Of course he doesn’t always listen because he’s tempted by the notion that they’d love him more if he always spoils them rotten, but they failed him the couple of times I disappeared to go to the ladies room or something; both times I found them waiting right outside all cried out cause mommy was gone. I just love my boys they make me feel like I’ve been doing an ok job all this time.

Moreover, I’ve had a chat with Beem’s teacher at the nursery and she bluntly asked me if things were fixed between his father and me. I smiled at her and told her that the decision to end the marriage is final but the procedures are taking some time. I confirmed that none of it shall affect the boys. She said she was happy Beem is adjusting because recently he’s been saying papa this and papa that while before that he used to stop talking whenever any of the other kids mentioned their daddies. So my decision to do the whole weekly outings was a good one.

One thing though, the x has been asking nonstop if he could take the boys to Zamalek where we used to live so that they’d see his grandma and his aunts. Normally, I would have been the softie I usually am and agreed except for a very important detail; last time I went there to pick my stuff two Ramadans ago, I was brutally kicked out and had my purse thrown behind me. That day I swore my kids would never get inside the place from where I was once kicked out. I think my pride is still a bit bruised because I can still feel a bit angry when I relive that day in my head and remember my feelings back then.

Today, I told him over the phone that we will not be seeing him this Friday because we’ll be in Alexandria for the weekend and out of the kindness of my heart, I offered that we’d meet on Monday instead since it will be an official holiday. This is how it went:

Him: ok, mafeesh moshkela
Me: tab ok, ana bas olt 2a2ollak abl mansa, bye
Him: tab estanny, 3ayez 2a2ollek 7aga
Me: mmm??
Him: eh ra2yek nekharaghom fe 7etta maftoo7a, zay el nady masalan?
Me: yeah sure, no problem as long as the weather is fine we mafeesh torab…
Him: tab eh ra2yek nekhaly 3amety teshofhom
Me: X, I will say this one more time, welady mesh hayroo7o beet ana edtaradt menno, and I really don’t think you should keep asking
Him: ana ma2oltesh yeego el Zamalek, net2abel fel nady, 3amaty 3ayzeen yeshofoohom
Me: fffffffffff
Him: betonfokhy leh? 3amaty makanoosh mawgoodeen 7ata yoomeeha…
Me: (annoyed that he’s getting around with a technicality and trying to avoid that my father hates for those two aunts to see the boys because they lied on the investigation reports) well, whatever, if anything I do not like happens, I’ll take the kids and walk out….
Him: ok, law 7ad day2ek be noss kelma emshy
Me: and your cousins will not be there, none of them
Him: ana 2olt 3amaty bas…
Me: if I spot any of your cousins I will not be nice or decent, I will probably be very rude
Him: I said none of them will be there…
Me: (mumbling)

I am very disturbed with that settlement, especially that I have just confessed to a friend of mine –as well as myself- that as much as it seems that I have come to good terms with everything that’s been as far as my wreck of a marriage is concerned, I am definitely not ok on a few aspects, like his family. I know he’s more flawed than they are, but I am also aware that he is the way he is because they taught him one way or the other that he can get away with anything; moreover, I cannot deny my kids a father, but I can keep their distance from his family, no?

There was a time back in my marriage when I lived with his grandma and aunt, and they always did things with my Beem that got under my skin, like feed him too much chocolate, yell at me when I try to discipline him or just interfere with what I choose for him to wear as if they were the parents! I used to take all that for the sake of whatever harmony I thought was there. Not anymore, the slightest criticism and I am likely to say something nasty and inconsiderate; not because I can’t help myself, but rather because I want to be nasty.

I am not proud of myself for feeling that way, but I am sure as hell convinced that I have very good reasons to. Yes, I have displaced my anger and rage at him towards them and I am not ready to deal with them on fake friendly basis yet, if that makes any sense.