Trouble in mind…*

Trouble in mind, I'm blue...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Homeless…

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

I am homeless.

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

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

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

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

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

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!

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…

*teeet*

My phone rings, an unfamiliar number…

Me: Allo
Female Voice: Alo, salamo alaykom, telephone Madam (ana)
Me: Aywa, ana (me), meen ma3aya…
Her: ana (can’t remember her name aslan) men maktab bostet el zamalek…
Me: ahlan wasahlan… *waiting for her to say what she wants of me, I had no clue what a post office employee would want of me!!!*
Her: howa geh le7adretek 7ewala bareedeya be nafaqa mosta7aqa men abu el welad
Me: *rather alarmed at the mention of the x*, ah, azon keda, khelal el esboo3 elly fat…
Her: we mageteesh estalamteeha leh??
Me: *huh, since when do they check if post payments are cashed by phone* umm, asl… mama estalametha we heya ma3aha tawkeel, fa momken 3ala yoom el sabt *surprisingly, I was being as honest as can be, I knew mama received the notification but I didn’t know how the procedure went and I never asked mama for the money, they go to the boys account*
Her: la mesh moshkela ana aslant agaza ennaharda, ana kont 3ayza bas akallemek 3ashan ashoofek yoom ma testelmeeha
Me: *sort of alarmed!* na3am!
Her: asl ana 3ayza atkallem ma3aki washoof eza kan momken nessala7 el denya… *then she paused waiting for a reaction from me*
Me: *both startled and offended* AFANDEM!!!
Her: na3am? *she obviously didn’t get that I was objecting*
Me: afandem!!! *I obviously couldn’t find any other polite word to express my dismay without subjecting her to my ultimate rudeness*
Her: esma7eely, ana set kebeer, 3andy 7aga w 50, ya3ne fe ma2am mamtek (did she just lose even more points??) we 3arfa ad eh el denya sa3ba, ana 3andy 5 welad… we lama shoft el ostaz (the x), we 3ereft eno mettala2 fel senn da (he looks younger than his age according to some, and so do I!) sa2alto 3ando welad walla la2, we 3eeno damma3et we howa bey2ool asameehom… fa oltelo yedeeny nemretek 3ashan akallemek we neshoof ezay momken nerraga3 el osra…
Me: (TEEET) ma3lesh 7adretek, 7adretek abelty wa7ed mate3rafehoosh, wetkalemty ma3ah 3ala wa7da mate3rafehash; 7adretik shofty ganeb wa7ed we seme3ty na7ya wa7da, wana ma3andeesh este3dad a7ky mawdoo3 et2afal le7ad ghareeb lemogarrad eno 3eenoh damma3et!
Her: *baffled* ya habibty ana batkallem le masla7tek, enty akeed soghayara we weladek me7tageenek enty we babahom ma3ahom…
Me: *getting really agitated we eh "habibty" de!!* ma3lesh, ana me2adara sho3oor 7adretik, bas ana asfa geddan, el kalam fel mawdoo3 da entaha we ostaz (the x) 3aref entaha ezzay w leeh, we mayenfa3sh yet7al be mokalmet telephone… ana beggad asfa le ta3ab 7adretik (bent nas ana awy)
Her: *really embarrassed* la ya habibty wala yehemmek, salamo 3aleiko
Me: 3aleikom al salam *and I hung up*

Ok, again *teet*!!!!

I mean is he dense?? We’re divorced; he is still in the place where he thinks we can reconcile and “nerga3 le ba3d”!!!! Moreover, he was not the one who had granted me the divorce, I had it through court, and appeal; I whined and cried on this blog for two years before I got my freedom!!!! And all he can do is make a stranger call me!!!

Not that it matters, but it’s so freakin’ demeaning!!!!

We kaman, el "osool" bet2ool en the right thing to do is for him to come in person, talk to my dad, show all signs of remorse and willingness to fix all things granting all the crazy requests which he should acknowledge our rights to!! I mean that’s what I hear is manly according to this sick twisted society, mesh wa7da ma3rafhash tekalemny tebaketny 3ala welady… eh el *teet* da!!

I am sort of glad though he’s not that kind of “reformed” to behave that way because I still don’t want to have anything to do with him aside from the boys. I just don’t get it!! What kind of a person thinks that’s a way to fix a marriage, la2, to remake a marriage; there is nothing to fix!!

And what kind of woman would think that another woman would want any man back after she got her divorce through court!! I hate those women who think women can’t do without their ex-husbands just because they have kids; they weaken our perceptions and self worth and make shitless assholes think they can dominate us – and no, this is not the feminist in me talking, I am just angry a person thinks all my pain and humiliation are worth no more than a silly phone call! I hate how my strong opinion will be taken as “batar” according to Egyptian society terms… 7aga tesed el nefs 3al sob7!!

A much needed reminder…

So yesterday, I got to my car which was parked right in front of our building to find that some (insert bad BAD words here) – ahem idiot- had broken my left rear view mirror and it was dangling so miserably from the side of my door! I tried to put it back but it was obviously broken beyond my attempts to repair it, so I opened the door to get in and I found that the black plastic thingy (greeda, according to the driver) fell off too!

I kept summoning curse words in my head and I really wished I could see the piece of scum who did that to my car!

Luckily, having personal belongings “hurt” does not get to me that much. Of course I kept thinking that perhaps it’s time I fix this car and sell it and upgrade, but I got over it by the time I had arrived at work; after all, I have an ugly scratch on my pretty phone and a bruise on the speakers thanks to my Beem!!

Only I had a nagging thought all day… WHY?!!!!

Why would an idiot hit and run a car without having the decency to leave a card or a number behind? Why would he/she bump into my car to begin with?! I mean, I was properly parked without any car pieces bulging in the way!! WHYYYY? Ya3ne howa I need more reasons to be in a bad mood masalan?? And I don’t remember owing karma anything recently 3ashan da yetla3 3alaya keda!!!

The thought didn’t leave me alone all my way home driving without a side rear view mirror that I happen to use, unlike most people in Egypt!! And then, while waiting for a retard to let me pass through an intersection instead of blocking it, I found myself bursting in hysteric laughter… things, bad things happen all the time, whether we earn them or not really!! Ya3ne heya de awel marra?! I have lost my fair share of favorite personal belongings, hell, I’ve had my life turned around enough times to stop wondering why such things happen!! They simply happen because they do; they’re meant to happen for whatever reasons I might never really understand!

But I still wish that idiot bumped into a tree or like I publicly wished on my FB status “we2e3 fe asas 3emara” and in case he survived both, I hope he/she might get a bad diarrhea like my uncle suggested!!

I think I need to be constantly reminded that I should take it easy on all the WHY’s I have in mind; the world does not owe me explanation for everything really, and neither do people, at least not most of the time!! If I just learn to keep that in mind and hold on to my smile and positive thinking; at least my car still worked, and alhamdulilah I am in good shape and so are my boys and loved ones.

Ok, it’s alarming how good I rather feel today considering all the crap I have in mind!! I’m grateful, and I’m smiling too!! I think I’m weird!

Music IS good for the soul, at least my soul…

I can’t say it took away all the feelings from yesterday and sent them to oblivion; they’re still inside waiting for a bluer day to haunt me, but until then…

This will ease my soul a bit…

I found it when I learned that it’s the original Portugese version of Shu Bkhaf, to which I’ve been nostalgic since yesterday…

Thank God for music, and THANK GOD it still works for me!!!

Melancholia

I can’t breathe… not exactly; I mean it just feels like the air is too heavy for my nostrils to inhale it into my lungs and then push it back… it feels like a lot of work…

And my heart feels like a heavy stone sinking all the way to my guts and hurting them…

I’ve been having headaches for God knows how long now; the kind that just doesn’t go away when they’re not banging in my head driving me crazy… and I have been as restless as ever despite my constant fatigue; so I sleep a lot, but thanks to my insomnia, I keep waking up to feel even more depressed and try to sink my depression in my pillow (I need a new pillow!)

Not to mention the mood swings… a minute I am all confident and smiling and alive, the next I just want to shut away the whole world and hate my very own existence, let alone others’… bipolar??

I am grumpy, I am impatient, and I feel like I am aching non stop for no apparent reason…

I think I am depressed!

I mean I’ve been to a doctor because of the fatigue and I had all the tests that would eliminate any potential hormonal imbalance or post-viral infection; the doctor eventually told me it could simply be due to pollution or stress… talk about stress, it’s a lifestyle for me…

I can’t seem to endure any of the things I have supposedly accepted as an inseparable part of my life… I am remembering my anger and re-feeling it, only I am not allowing myself to let it out; it’s trapped in my heart and mind like tears are trapped behind my eyes…

I can’t stand the very people I love, and of course those I resent…

I am tired of my dad’s over protectiveness; it’s suffocating me and making me feel claustrophobic inside my own body! Actually, I am starting to even doubt he’s being this way just for my sake; I think it’s more about what he thinks is best for everyone of us, himself, my sisters, my kids and me… it’s too much weight for me to carry all alone, and it’s unfair!

I am tired of my sisters’ detachment and insensitiveness, which I know is mostly due to my own hyper-sensitiveness; but I just have strong urges of shutting them out for good, like I want to do with all the other annoyances in my life!

I can’t even stand being with my boys at all these days; they’re a very painful reminder of all my issues and the responsibilities burdening me day and night. I kind of hate myself for being a mother, such a mother!

And my mom is not giving me a break asalways, only this time I really want nothing to do with her, and as horrible as it makes me sound, I mean it, and I sincerely wish it would come true, like we could stop talking forever… only I trust she’d never let go!

I literally thought of packing the things I need along with my sorrows and disappointments and just leave home for good, and perhaps even leave my boys; I can’t do it on my own with them. Writing this, I sort of hate myself, but I am feeling like I am no longer capable of being anything useful to anyone. I don’t feel like I have it in me to give, or to want to give for that matter. I don’t want to take either; I just want to be left alone. We Kaman, it’s not exactly realistic thinking to runaway; I will be found, unless I change my job, my car and God knows what else – I haven’t exactly thought this through…

The interesting part is that I don’t even show such clear signs of struggle when people talk to me. My friend was like “manty konty kowayessa akher marra shoftek”, which was right in the midst of all this mess; thing is, when I am with friendly company, all this distress is on hold until I step back to my world and deal with all the nakad there.

For the second time in my life, I want to be someone else, only for different reasons. This time I don’t hate who I am, I just resent all the things I have to deal with and all the stresses and pressures. I want to… live? At least without worrying about consequences and without feeling crippled and pulled down by all the things I should and shouldn’t do. I feel like I am locked in a prison without bars or parameters, yet so real and limiting. And the really painful part is that I feel like I choose to succumb to this prison most of the time, either out of obligation, or fear of consequences.

I am pathetic!

And I have no idea how to remedy all this. I don’t believe any therapy could possibly help; at least not with my current status, and I have no idea how to change that. All I know is that I can feel my spirit sinking and I am too tired to even try to float until this passes, I feel like drowning but I don’t have the courage to let go.

And no, I am not suicidal so I don’t want people talking me out of taking my own life; I just know I don’t have it in me and I am not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse!

I hate how depressing this post is, especially when I am still aware of the little things that give my life a meaning, which I can take forever to list them, yet they fail to bring my soul comfort and ease.

I am listening to Bocelli, hoping his strong and tender voice would wrap my spirit and take away all the aching, but it is making me feel sadder, and the air is still feeling heavier…

Not again!!

“… the profoundest changes take place within a very reduced time frame. When we least expect it, life sets us a challenge to test our courage and willingness to change; at such a moment, there is no point in pretending that nothing has happened or in saying that we are not yet ready.

The challenge will not wait. Life does not look back. A week is more than enough time for us to decide whether or not to accept our destiny”

- Paulo Coelho' Author's Note from The Devil and Miss Prym


That’s what I am so afraid of, and it stared me right in the eye when I was trying to distract myself by reading!

I don’t hate change, I am rarely ever scared of it or unwilling to do it, on the contrary, I throw myself right into it, and that scares me. The possibility that the change could be to the worse or that it would bring out the worst in me is what terrifies me.

Uff ba2a! we kaman I barely know who I am and what I want for it to change already, mesh 3ayza al3ab khalas! Being a Gemini can get really exhausting!

Mesh 3arfa!

I sat there all alone pretending to be someone else…

I had a strong urge to be anyone but myself if I was to sit and relive those memories in order to write about them; it felt like it would be easier to remember bad things as if they happened to someone else…

But I couldn’t…

I referred to each memory as mine, and every time I came close to digging it all up, I found myself revisiting recent memories that only occurred because of old ones…

And it kept hitting me that right there, as different as I looked, I was still the same person from whom I was running away… yes, I’ve changed a bit, inside and out, but change does not make you a different person…

I felt alone.

I looked around me, took deep breaths, and tried to write it down, but I kept getting stuck at the same point…

Do you ever go back to a turning point in your life and wonder if you chose the road not taken? Usually, when I do that, it’s does not bring regret or a futile wish that time would go back so that I’d redo things differently… but today it felt like it, it was overwhelming, and my mind kept resisting my attempts to remember…

I tried and I tired, and each time my mind resisted even more stubbornly…

It scared me that I just couldn’t do what I planned on doing… I could see how my mind tried every defense mechanism it knows and it scared me because it only meant something hurts in there and I was getting closer, and worse, I am not ready to feel that kind of pain…

I am the kind who would pour salt on old wounds just to make sure they’re dead tissue and they no longer hurt, but today, I felt too overwhelmed, I felt too alone to handle it on my own and I just found myself letting them be and I decided to distract myself…

After spending around an hour and a half in my own mind, I decided to leave my Pandora’s box unopened for a few more days, and I got in my car…

I drove in the direction of Kattameya road because I didn’t want traffic. I drove and I drove, and I let music play…

I made it until 90 kilometers to Sues and then I started looking for a u-turn, not because I wanted to go home, but rather because I needed to be home before 10 if I am to avoid an unnecessary fight with my dad…

This played…

"انت تمل، و راسي يدور... تقوم تفل، و بحالي دور... دموعي تكل، تعدي بحور... و انت بعيـــــد"

Feels like I’ve always been stuck there, always will be, I can see it, smell it, and feel it… and it hurts... and ana kaman bammel… I am tired and bored from that feeling I get when I am unable to let my thoughts out…

I feel crippled… paralyzed…

I am not sad; I am just utterly confused and lost in my own thoughts and attempts to figure myself out… I am not in peace with myself and it’s driving me mad…

I am waiting for my mood to change; this is when being moody is a blessing…

Something I just have to blurt out!!

Ok, I can understand if you’re an atheist…

I can also understand if you’re agnostic…

I can even try and tolerate your endless obscene and crude remarks on almost everything…

I just can’t take the condescending attitude or how offensive you get when you describe those things you dislike…

Seriously! Why the hell offend the very same things you accuse of being offensive!!! I mean, hello, you’re doing exactly the very same thing you resent and reject; don’t you accuse all religions and those who practice them of judging you, labeling you, and cursing you? Whatever makes you think you’re any better than them in your own eye?

News flash, YOU’RE NOT!

You’re merely someone who couldn’t fit anywhere and decided to make a world for you and those who feel exactly like you! If it had just stoped there, I’d completely respect it; hell, I’d start my own world with my own beliefs and invite people who are like me to join too…

But don’t offend, don’t judge and don’t curse anything or anyone just because you don’t fit or you don’t understand… yes, we all hate feeling rejected or labeled, that’s why I understand that you’re angry…

You don’t need to offend me because I happen to believe, you shouldn’t assume my scarf covers a brainless scull just because I chose to practice that little… And you simply can’t assume that I am dumb because I pretend not to understand the sex jokes and give you the satisfaction of seeing the disgust on my face…

And don’t think I don’t understand your sick words, I just choose to pretend like I never heard them before because it’s easier than throwing up all over your twisted notions!!

I would have really tried to understand and even respected all the things you are, if only you had tried, just tried to show a little understanding of who I am and the things I believe in…

So there is another side to the coin you so much dislike, and guess what, you’re on it!

(and I didn’t offend, at least not as tastelessly!!!)

P.S. this is addressed to all the idiots who go about publishing their garbage of so called free opinions offending everyone and giving a bad name to those who share their beliefs!! It is not against any belief or practice, at least not those who do not offend others.

It’s just… pathetic!

Back in my school days, whenever I traveled abroad with my family, I used to buy those little pins with flags on them (I wonder where those are!!). They looked cute and I must say, something about a flag is just… captivating, like it holds the entire culture of a country in it!

A few years later, when I joined a Canadian college, I used to have the Canadian flag on my backpack, until my dad saw it and gave me a long lecture about belonging to no country other than mine. He went on and on about how people in the states put their country’s flag right outside their doors and that I do not have to do the same, but neither should I ever bear a different country’s flag.

Back then, he made sense even though I did not pin the Canadian flag to my backpack to represent anything more than just my admiration to the country I’ve visited. To avoid any futile arguments about my patriotic opinions, I just replaced that pin with another of my college’s badge, after all, that was the college I belonged to whether he liked it or not.

Oh, and I tried to find a cute little pin with Egypt’s flag, but I found none!

***
Around a year ago, one of the managers in the Kuwaiti company where I work decided he wanted a small sized Egyptian flag to put it on his desk back in Kuwait along with the rest of the flags of countries where the company has business. He sent me an email asking me if we had any at our Egypt branch, I said we didn’t, so he asked me to send for around ten small flags, for our office as well as the head office. Moreover, he also asked me to get a bigger flag similar to the size of the Kuwaiti flag he’d send, so that both would be hung in our company here in Egypt.

I did not find any of good enough quality to be measured against the other flags I’ve seen. I’ve been told I could go to Faggala and check a bigger variety or have one custom made, but I was too busy to do it then! I asked friends who work in governmental authorities about the ones they put on ministers’ desks or at the doors of ministry buildings, but no one gave me any useful information. Eventually, I gave up and lost interest and so have my boss.

***
I see Egyptian flags everywhere! With all sizes and all qualities, simply every freakin' where!!!

Seriously!!

The match, screw it, I mean, what is the point of winning a silly match? What kind of advancement are we as a country and its people achieving here? Will our educational systems be any better? Will we be doing a better job on containing the epidemic flu that is closing all our schools? Oh and about H1N1 flu, how come the Minister of Health (beroo7 Ommoh) did not have any useful announcements about crowd management!! Wala el gomhoor el reyady 3ando wa3y se7y kafy, ya sheikh bala waksa!!

***

I will say it and I will not care about how many people will resent me for it… I wish Egypt loses this match. I think we Egyptians need to realize that there are more important things we need to win other than a meaningless match. We need to develop better behaviors and attitudes in order to lead better lives, and honestly, I think winning this match will close our eyes even further to the fact that WE NEED TO BE BETTER IN OTHER THINGS!! Not to mention the traffic madness and the accidents that WILL happen like the last time Egypt won the stupid African cup!

Wel ahbal elly ba3et email saying that he’s happy we’re all uniting for this, yala roo7 egry el3ab be3eed!! Maho men khebetna!! We kaman we are emotional people, benetlam we ne unite fel kheiba, 3ady, heya awel marra ya3ne, bas sa3et el gadd, when our union is needed for something useful, we only throw charity parties for the cause but do nothing useful, so etwekes!! (he’s the same guy who urged his fellow Egyptians to show their compassion to the President for the loss of his grandchild, Alllah yer7amoh… 3ayel 7o2na, we monafeq keda we te7esso maloosh substance!!)

I am sorry fellow Egyptians and soccer fans, we do not deserve that kind of victory when we’re so oblivious of our failures in every other aspect of our social and cultural life, hell, in how we deal with one another!

***

I want to go to my dad and explain to him that I’d rather carry the Canadian flag than the Egyptian flag because I learned my most useful lessons during college from Canadian professors, not Egyptian ones. I want to sadly admit to him that the only reason I belong to this country is because he does. He’s the one who paid for my education, my health care, and every privilege and luxury I enjoyed, so I belong to him, and if it means I belong to this country for his sake, then I do.

I don’t hate Egypt; I love it… ok, it’s a classic love/hate relationship like Will calls it. Egypt is like the mother who constantly abuses and insults me and expects me to forever love her because it’s my duty. Egypt is like the mother who never showed sincere care or did anything of value contributing to my wellbeing and development, yet expects me to acknowledge her non-existing role in making me who I am!

Egypt is the mother I could never bring myself to love or honor simply because I refuse to be an abuse victim, yet my good upbringing prevents me from showing my dislike and discontentment to others. It’s because of my upbringing that I find myself speaking with pride whenever I am asked where I am from, although it was never Egypt who gave me reasons to be proud, it was always my father.

***

So tomorrow, I might go and buy that flag after all, regardless of the score of the match because to me, it was never about a silly match, it is about something more profound than that, something I still hope I could find and feel for this country because I can’t feel it for any other.

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.

Wrapped within a jazzy tune!

Looking through the window and seeing all those marshmallow clouds around me, I wrapped my shawl around me as jazz tunes tickled all my senses…

It was the perfect setting; finishing up a cup of coffee as my favorite lindt melted in my mouth after a brief chat with the friendly flight attendant, me alone on that row, and Ella and Louis singing… that was when it hit me…

I finally felt that warm fuzzy feeling I was missing most of my trip…

I felt gratitude for it all, I felt the kind of happy I couldn’t feel earlier when I was burdened by all the things that haunted my soul!

The end of my trip did not feel sad like endings are mostly known to be; mine was satisfying.

It all fell into place as the plane slowly came closer to the ground, and I could see the tiny little details through the cotton-candy clouds, I was reminded of my love for details and I remembered those particular ones that made me smile during my trip…

And all of a sudden, it felt like home!

Oh details, I just love you; you make my life!! In you, my true happy moments belong and I am forever grateful that I can see you, even if at the end!

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!

Not exactly random… as incoherent as it may seem!

In the movies, the scene about the moment where events had escalated to its peak would keep haunting the character over and over making them clench and close their eyes in dismay.

It’s not like that. I mean, the moment, that moment haunts me all right, but it only takes a while until I am over the state of shock, or you know, sort of used to it.

Then, in my calmer moods, I get the mysterious feeling of discomfort that can only be explained by flashes of less significant moments haunting me. The kind of moments that would look completely neutral and harmless if you take them out of context; however, if you see the context and consider my character, they would make a whole lot sense on why I feel that way, at least to me!

-----

The subtle yet very disturbing moments would be like how I hate climbing the stairs, how I keep trying to look away, how I can never find those words, or how I just hate driving home, in my car alone with my own thoughts… how in all those moments I feel lonely and all sorts of other things...

One of the strong moments was when I closed my eyes hoping that I’d see clearly, just like that girl; and in the clarity of the moment, all I saw was that little girl who used to close her eyes hoping people wouldn’t be able to see her just like she couldn’t see them with her eyes closed. A tear fell, and I had no words to explain why, I honestly don’t know!

*deep breath in, and out*

-----

“just say what’s on your mind, don’t try to find the right words”
“I can’t! forget about the right words, I can’t find any!”
“I’m trying to help you open up”
“I don’t open up easily”
“exactly…”
“I can’t, I just don’t know how”

I may babble a lot, but I never really do open up. I really didn’t believe it when it was told to me a million times before, but it’s a pattern that everyone seems to identify while I live in my own denial!

-----

The moments come back one more time, and I find myself trying to explain my own actions to myself; it's really hard to bullshit a bullshitter!

Most of it boils down to one thing – I am discovering the very things other people take for granted on daily basis! It’s not good because they keep taking their toll on me as I keep overanalyzing in my endless attempts to understand.

How do people take those things for granted? And is it a good thing or a bad thing that they still come to me as surprise?

-----

I’ve got most of it figured out, why I can’t seem to be able to open up. It comes down to two main reasons; one, I still think that what’s inside me is not to be spoken, rather to be felt and understood without me having to find words that would describe it. Two, the one person to whom I have opened up the most has majorly let me down.

Did I ever really open up? I must have at least thought I did! Actually, at this point I realize I never really loved him, I just thought I did; of course now I am not even sure I believe in that L word much!

-----

If love is a variable, an ever changing one, and if marriages don’t exactly work the way we think they do, then what the hell is the point of all this? Why do we get attracted to that person, or enjoy being with the other, if it all ends up down the drain eventually?

I don’t see myself opening up enough to anyone to either fall in love or get married. I’ve tried both and failed miserably. I open up to friends so easily; not exactly with every single little thing, but at least I do open up easier that I do any other way.

-----

Oh oh oh, another piece to the puzzle, I mistook my pseudo opening up for love, and accordingly got married, which makes even more sense why I wouldn’t let my guard down that way again, lest I get confused and lose my way again.

-----

“she has to open up and let her guard down, and allow me to love her” that phrase just makes me laugh, sort of bitterly, but it’s a laugh nonetheless! It makes me feel safe that she will never be me.

It also makes me safe not knowing how exactly he’d have to be, it feel safe how no one feels like him, I’ll freak the day someone feels right!

Ok, like Sandra Bullock cast a spell in Practical Magic so that she’d never fall in love and get her heart broken, I’ll cast mine – he will be able to know and understand those things I never manage to say; he will be the only one who’d know how to take away all the subtle discomfort I constantly feel.

-----

“how did you get to be so cynical?”
“I’ve been alive for a while now”
“well, I’ve been alive a little bit longer than you have, but I don’t seem to be that cynical! it would drive me crazy!”
“you’re saying that my cynicism drives you crazy?”
“no, I am just trying to understand”
“I guess it just suits me”
“well then, cynical doesn’t suit me all the way; I really have no idea what suits me best, but I know I can’t get that committed to cynicism”

I hate admitting it, I sort of miss him (he who can read my mind like no other), but I don’t want him to ever find me because I know he can’t promise me the happily-ever-after I so sadly still believe in under those layers of my pseudo cynicism. I can’t have him tell me the L word and make me believe in its power again when I know none of it would ever last.

Why can’t cynicism work for me too?!

-----

Time to get some restless sleep.

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?!

الحمد لله

IBHOG came up with the best idea that inspired my long lost Ramadan spirit. For the rules, go to IBHOG’s…

I am grateful for…

- My boys. I remember being pregnant and depressed, I remember my one wish was healthy and smart kids (I have very low tolerance of stupidity), and every time I look at them, I feel grateful because they are much better than I could have ever wished! Beem is loving and tender, and Mocha is witty and hilarious… and they both take a lot more after me than their dad. BLESSED is what I feel when I think of my boys, and sometimes also BURDENED because I don’t know how to cherish such bliss.

- My friends. I have quite the variety, how different their interests and backgrounds are, and yet they have at least one thing in common, me. They make me feel loved and accepted, and the smallest gesture they do touches me too deep, be it a phone call when I am down to cheer me up or a ride when I am too depressed to tell the directions for myself. More importantly, they make it feel like I have well deserved it; they make me feel like I am as a good friend as they are. APPRECIATED and LOVED is what I feel when I think of my friends.

- My Father. He is my wall, knowing that he is there for me gives me a sense of protection I know no one else can give. SAFE is what I feel whenever I think of my father.

- My Job. At first, I thought it was a career dead-end -which it probably is to anyone else-, but now I appreciate the low level of tension, especially with my drama. As overqualified as I think I am for my job (business grad, marketing concentration, yet working in administration), I still have a decent status there, a good pay and benefits, not to mention that I have the nicest boss in the world who makes up for the colleagues who may push the wrong buttons sometimes. LUCKY is what I feel when I think of my job.

- Me. No, I am not being conceited, but I have a lot of good things going for me and I know it; I am relatively healthy, I’ve been told I am smart and good looking, I come from a respectable family, I received good education, and I have decent financial means that spare me worrying about the future. PRIVILEGED and CONTENT is what I feel when I think of all those things God has granted me.

- The wishes I am granted. Every time I kneeled and prayed for something, God has granted it to me; it made me seal every prayer with asking God not to grant me what’s not good for me because I know I don’t know what’s best for me most of the time. THANKFUL, OVERWHELMED, AWED, and CHALLENGED is what I feel every time a prayer is answered.

Those might have seemed like six blessings, but there's a lot more to each, especially the last two; they're ever growing, not to mention too many to count!

الحمد لله

I invite my fellow bloggers on the blog-roll to take the time and do that tag, and those who like to comment as anons as well.