Therapy Reflections

I was filling an application orally; I instinctively said “divorced” when asked about my marital status! El farag men 3andak YA RABBBB

While asking me to fill the rest of the application, the doctor couldn’t contain the surprise when he knew I was a mother of two; he said I was too young. It felt great to hear that. I said I was old enough to be a mother of two, he re-checked my birth date and insisted that I was young. I never think I look young but I just love hearing it! (I have issues that way)

The session was painful, to both my body and my mind. I never had that kind of therapy before and I didn’t really know what to expect. I didn’t acknowledge any of the physical pain I was feeling because I was trying to process whether it’s normal and expected to feel that way, or was it because I was sick, or was I just being a sissy!

“are you ok in there?” he asked, he was certain I was in pain

“no, it kinda hurts” I said, then I paused to reluctantly add “awy!!”

I don’t know… I sensed relief in his tone as I showed him where I was hurting, as if he thought it was strange that I didn’t scream in pain as expected. I didn’t want to scream in pain, I felt it, I screamed so loud in my head, but I contained it. I think my stubbornness to acknowledge the pain (as my friend refers to it) made him push harder.

He said my body was too weak, that particular area that hurt.

I don’t know, call me vain, but I always considered myself physically strong. I was brought up like a guy; my dad would sort of wrestle, and he used to have me carry my own luggage and help him with his as well as everyone else’s whenever we traveled.

Being told my body was too weak, I was reminded of the other two times I felt inadequate that way, the other two times when I felt my body failed me… pregnancy and labor. I was instantly reminded of my helplessness during the end of my pregnancy, and my crying in the hospital bed because I hated the pain and I hated having to feel it.

“relax, don’t resist and don’t help, just let go and relax”

I laughed… if only it were up tom me!

Would someone bother explaining!

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

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


First, here are the facts that apply to me…


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

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

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

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


Now, explain that to me…


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

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

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


The reason I am wondering...


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

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

Overrated…

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

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

He laughed “my point exactly!”

I said nothing.

I hate it when someone is that right...

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

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

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

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

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

B is also right!

Problem is...

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

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

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

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

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

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

Can I sleep all this out?

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

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

The Details in the Fabric

Calm down...

Deep breaths...

And get yourself dressed... instead Of running around

And pulling all your threads saying

Breaking yourself up

If it's a broken part, replace it

If it's a broken heart then brace it

If it's a broken heart then face it

And hold your own

Know your name

And go your own way

Hold your own

Know your own name

And go your own way

And everything will be fine

Everything will be fine

Hang on... Help is on the way

Stay strong... I'm doing everything

Hold your own

Know your name

And go your own way

Hold your own

Know your name

And go your own way

And everything, everything will be fine

Everything...

Are the details in the fabric

Are the things that make you panic

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

Hell, no reason, go on and scream

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

Yeah everything will be fine

Everything in no time at all

Everything...

Hold your own

And know your name

And go your own way

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

Are the things that make you panic

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

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

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

Hell no reason go on and scream

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

Everything will be fine

Everything in no time at all

Hearts will hold

Amen!!

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.

On a day that tried all it could to be a good one…

Yesterday was such a strange day!

From 6 am to 6 pm it spelled trouble all over the place to the extent that I had decided to call it a day and sulk in bed as I waited for the day to end.

Luckily Mayo made it better by joining me on a Riff Band night at Sa2yet el Sawy…

The band played all my personal favorites, almost all of them, and I mean stuff I secretly hoped I'd listen to!!!! I only didn’t know two songs or something, and I enjoyed all of it despite my blue mood and the backache that was making it a bit painful to move with the music.

Later, Mayo made me smile even more with all the stuff she said even after I was home, and I got the chance to chat a bit with a friend. It’s fair to say the day ended nicely that way.

Even after I fell asleep, I could feel my mom getting into the room to make sure the kids and I were tucked in bed. For the first night in God knows how long, I didn’t overhear her cursing at me during my sleep; instead, I heard prayers!!

It really felt like the day was trying to make up for the mess-ups but I guess I was just too jaded…

Nonetheless, I feel grateful in a way, even for the strangeness!

A little bit of everything…

This keeps happening to me lately! That someone points out –either by implying it or saying it flat out- how they find it strange that I am one person!


Scene I - Last time At Dr. Magdi’s

That girl who was trying to analyze my drawings: *looking at Dr. Magdi* dool 7ad wa7ed bas rasemhom?!!!
Him: *smiling beneath his glasses while gazing at me* aheh oddamek aheh
Her: *looking at me* enty elly rasma dool kollohom???
Me: ah
Her: they’re full of so many contradictions we feehom 7agat mokhtalefa keteera sa3b el wa7ed yela2eeha fe shakhs wa7ed!!!
Me: I guess I am moody that way!
Him: Moody bas?! *smiling even more*

I have his smile engraved in my mind, I will so miss that man!


Scene II - Driving in my car with a friend and I kept pressing ff on the ipod, I drove him mad!

Him: *grabbing the ipod* do you mind?
Me: la khales, ekhtar elly 3ayez tesma3oh…
Him: ok, lama neshoof fe eh yetseme3 *after a while* eh el 7agat el ghareeba de?
Me: hehe I know, too many stuff that can’t be in “one collection”
Him: malhomsh 3elaqa be ba3d aslan! Elly ye7awel yefham shakhseyetek mel beta3 da ye2ool ennek akeed magnoona!
Me: *laughing* howa ana akeed mesh 3a2la! But if it helps, they’re not all favorites, sometimes I download soundtracks, or a discography of an artist for whom I like a few tracks and get stuck with stuff I don’t even listen to! I don’t delete them 3ashan yemken fe yoom ab2a 3ayza asma3 7aga ma3rafhash wab2a perceptive le something I didn’t like before…
Him: tab playlist!
Me: playlisting isn’t fun, I never know what mood I’m in or what matching song I would like to hear until it plays, I only know what I don’t want to hear so i skip it, we kaman I enjoy the little surprises my ipod gives me!

I actually playlisted that day to see if I actually have a consistent genre, but it was only a smaller list of too many different genres!


Scene III - On my desk taking some notes while on the phone. My colleague walked in with some handwritten notes I had given him two days ago to review before I write a report.

Him: khody, tamam keda, just put me on the cc.
Me: ok *handing him the notes I had just written* khod dool, de el details beta3et el course elly hakhdo, we mawa3eed el classes wel mawa3eed beta3et el English proficiency test…
Him: *reading it, then looking at the notes he was just giving me* sanya wa7da, enty katba el etneen dool *holding both notes*
Me: *not even looking at him* yes
Him: (my name), bossy, it’s like they’re written by two different people!
Me: *looking at them and realizing he’s right* hehe, yeah, looks like I have multiple personality disorder or whatever any professional calligrapher would tell you!

The first notes were written in small italic letters that looked a bit cursive, while the second notes were written in rather far-apart up right letters with bigger emphasis on each letter!


And just a while ago, Rasha was commenting –out of the blue- on how strange she finds it that I can be friends with such a vast variety of personalities and like them all the same! I found it extremely funny because I had just writing this post when she sent me that msn message!!!

Looks like I am either one hell of a moody person, or I have multi personality disorder like I was telling my colleague, or I have a serious identity crisis, or I could just be a typical Gemini; too many personalities wrapped into one!

A Taste of Fear…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am afraid of death in so many ways now…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Farewell…

I can’t seem to stop crying!

It’s beyond me to understand why I am so overwhelmed by a loss that’s not even mine as it is other people’s!

I didn’t know him well… it would be fair to say I didn’t know him at all!

Yet he knew all about me from the slightest of things… and it touched me too deep in my soul that he found so many positive things to say when all I felt was worthlessness!

I can’t stop crying!

I remember the kind look and the calm reassuring tone…


You’re stubborn, you’re full of stubbornness; it’s where you get that strength…

Your thoughts come from within; you hear all the other voices, but you only listen to your own voice, very individualistic…

Only you’ve never belonged to yourself; you always belonged to others and that’s why you’re too self-conscious…

You’re just beginning to find out about yourself and you like it, and perhaps you should…

I say, you continue listening to your own voice and find yourself and your passion and ignore all the voices, shut them out…


I will try to remember those words, and I will make sure I say a prayer for you when I’m done remembering!

It's amazing how someone I’ve known for so little could have that much insight into my soul...

It's even more amazing someone could bring that much peace just by saying the simplest of words!

And it hurts so badly to lose that!

May you rest in peace… and may those who have known and loved you more than I do find solace in remembering all the words you’ve told them…


Update: This is a post that was written about him, it brings tears to my eyes every time I read it!

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”!!!

After a couple of stressful weeks!

I freeze…

It is cold here, I am sweating and getting colder, I am shivering…

My whole body is stiff, the kinda stiff you feel when you’re too cold, only I am not that cold!

My tongue feels too big for my mouth; it’s making it hard for me to swallow, and my jaw is too stiff

My heartbeats are racing and I can feel my ears about to explode…

My colleague walks in and rushes to the buffet to get me mango juice…

I hate mango juice, and I hate stuff that are that sweet, but I feel too paralyzed to object. “drink it fast, you’re low on sugar, I haven’t seen you eaten anything in the past couple of days and 7ar2et el dam bete7ra2 sokkar, eshraby! Matboseleesh kheda”

Was I looking at him?

I can’t breathe… no, I can, I am just too conscious of every breath I take, it’s too much work to take air in and push it back, I can see my chest moving upwards and downwards and it never felt that straining…

The office boy walks in later with lemonade and puts it right in front of me… I say nothing

My colleague walks in again and tells me “DRINK IT!”… I wave my hands to tell him I can’t hear him, it’s like my eardrums are beating in deafening silence and I can’t hear words… I murmur “bardana awy”… e runs to turn off the central A/C and makes a joke, ironically I laugh as if I got it but it was basically because I felt sorry for him trying to make me laugh!

I force myself to focus… I call my sis and tell her that I’ll call the babysitter to meet her up at the nursery to pick the boys. I confirm with the babysitter. I call the nursery to let them know who will pick the boys.

I force myself to walk to that armchair in the hidden corner of my office so that no one can see me through the glass…

I sit head in my hands and I keep trying to force the thoughts to float in my head… you can’t afford to collapse, not now, not with all that’s going on; you need your strength, pull it together…

My boss walks in, takes a quick look at me, leaves to his room, and moments later he’s back with his jacket on and his brief case in his hand, and he says in a non-negotiable tone “yalla hawasalek el beet”

I go home, I sleep, I sort of eat, but I still feel out of my element!

I hope it ends soon… I hope it ends well soon! Deep down I am almost sure it will! YA RAB

Wishing and Hoping

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it's just never the right wish!

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

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

I wish, no I hope…

I could listen to this all day!

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

I give you Joni Mitchell's Both Sides Now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And when the anger subsides...

this is exactly how I feel; every note and every word. I feel tired, I feel old, and I feel sad. I don't know if it's causing my anger or caused by it, but I know it's how I feel now.

I will bounce back, I always do...

Until then, enjoy the music!

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!

An excerpt form a conversation that was never finished

This conversation took place between two real people, I could only share that much after removing some of its content to maintain anonymity. Nonetheless, it remains intriguing not because it's between a man and a woman, but rather because it's about what's they think is right and whether it's the only way!

Disclaimer: Like I said, the conversation was taken out of context; hence, it does not really reflect the characters or beliefs of those having it with regard to their gender roles. So I would really appreciate it if the comments did not attack either of the characters; otherwise, you're most welcomed to share your opinion.

X: anyways, women have it in them to endure khan2et their husbands, but it's not always happening the other way around… momken 3ashan men can have affairs while women's only outlet is complaining to their girlfriends, generally speaking… we eyak te2ool en you guys are the miserable ones having to resort to affairs since communication and whining are not your forte

Y: maho i think affairs are a sign of desperation that we are the victims :)… ya3ni wa7ed masalan fi balad kolaha masane3 naseegg… wi howa ma3andoosh elskills bta3et elnaseeg, fa byetarr yesra2 3ashan ye3raf ye3eesh… it’s an act of desperation, not of evil intent(not defending all men that do it, akeed some are evil)

X: so you were fe balad feeha naseeg bas, i say you either learn how to teshtaghal fel naseeg or leave to a country where you can make another living… mesh tesra2, because you as a person, deserve better than to sell yourself short for the easier solution… how would people evolve if they're not challenged?

Y: ana m3aki, thats why i say it’s a sign of desperation… just like turning to alcohol is a sign of desperation… mesh b2ool alcoholics are correct in their decision; i'm saying ppl who do that are desperate

X: el moshkela with your theory is… wait, heya mesh moshkela, i am basically confirming what ur saying… some people go through the same circumstances and don't let despair get a hold of them; desperation denies people better things they deserve… i know it's extremely hard to control if it finds its way to a person, close to impossible… but saying that whatever acts of desperation are ok madam one is desperate is like having a backdoor that's easier to open, and people would end up using that door instead of using the main door; and then the norms, what's right and wrong will be twisted as per the notion of "everybody’s doing it, so why can't we?"… which would take us back to “who will do the right thing ba2a”… we make the right thing harder to do when we say it's ok to do stupid things just because you’re desperate

Y: enti your situation, the "right thing" is simple; other situations it's much more complicated

X: fair enough… but i still insist en just because it's harder, it doesn't mean we should choose the easy way out; people don't grow doing the easy thing, there are lots of famous quotes saying it better bas what they never really emphasize on is that there’s a great sense of achievement one gets when they manage to do the hard thing and survives it… and because people do not hear about that part, they don’t find the right thing to be that rewarding, they just thing of it as part of the burden of “being good”… of course there will always be doubts, but we always doubt, don't we?

Y: bardo i agree, but that sense of acheivement comes afterwards, after it ends. When you're in the situation, to use another anology, when you're in the middle of the sea and you feel as if you're drowning, and your boat isn't keeping you afloat, then you see another boat that will help you, but it's not yours, you can't say "i won't steal that boat because it's wrong", you act out of desperation. I agree, it's illogical, irrational, etc., but all this is when we look back on it. Sa3etha it's a desperate move.

Update: If you have time, please go check Slop's post; I find it to say a lot of what I had in mind as I posted this! Thanks man.

Theme: Randomness

For those who actually enjoy my incoherence…


Seven years ago, my late nana (Allah yer7amha) died on the same day. I say a little prayer for her with every time I wrote today’s date on a piece of paper or every time I come to think of today’s date. Neina, Allah yer7amek, wa7shany awy.


I woke up today in the itching mood of Vaya Con Dios, specifically I Don’t Want to Know. I was shocked to find that my music file at work did not include any of their songs so I downloaded the whole discography only to listen to my favorites. Until the download was complete I listened to Hanine’s version of Fareed’s Ya Zahratan Fe Khayaly. Those words speak for me like no other.


He keeps calling. Apparently he’s really bummed about everything in his life and he’s under the strong impression that I’m the only one he got! I am not happy with that but I am not able to hurt him because apparently his grandma is in such a bad shape and I am not cruel enough to hit someone so beaten up about life already. I keep telling myself that once on his feet, he’ll soon hurt me twice as hard; it’s what he does and I’d be stupid to think that a short moment of remorse can change who he is. I am starting to think of a smart way to set him straight; give him my dad’s strict conditions of having me back (and OH they are dead STRICT), but I feel ethically challenged since I have no intention to live up to my end of the bargain if he lives up to his. Why am I so ethical? I blame my dad.


I have so many plans I should mark in my calendar of people with whom I want to meet and catch up. My boss from my old work for next Thursday, and my friend from the same place for next Saturday, and I’m sure there are things I am forgetting! Oh, I must call H and see her, it’s been a while; still there is something I’m missing!


I don’t know what it is with you, but every time I try to be just nice or I don’t know more me, I find myself blurting out nothing but sarcasm! Ok, I know it’s a defense mechanism, but I thought I was over that with you; only it gets even harder to control. I hate it because this is not how I want to act around you and I hate it because I’m afraid you’re attributing it to the wrong reasons. May be it’s best to keep that distance.


I want a quiet evening in a night landscape with nothing but the moon and the stars in the velvet sky and perhaps some good music. I don’t want people and I am not sure about the company yet. The really sad part is even if I was granted that ambience; my restless nature would have me bored in less than 30 minutes. I’m pathetic!


I also wanna take the kids out and have fun, but they’re too crazy and chaotic and I am too tired to handle them without having a nerve blown out or something.

On the very same note though, yesterday I held both of them as I sat on the couch in the living room (I barely ever get out of my room), and I read them those three little books my sis wrote. My Beem just loves that character and I keep using it to make him do things (evil), but it was him who made me think of it when he said “mommy ana 3ayez aghsel senany zay boxa”


I’m overspending these days. The scary part is that I am a bit low on cash and using my credit card. I know I will have to deal with the consequences but I feel too stressed to start caring.


My mom seems to want me out of the house at any expense. She deliberately gives out instructions of the most disgusting food to be cooked. My parents were in Alexandria for the weekend and they returned late last night; still, Kaware3 was yesterday’s dish! EWWW I mean seriously EWWWWW, it ruined my apetite to walk in the kitchen and see that cooking!! I ended up eating salad from Pizza Hut followed by a muffin from Costa with my dearest The Caller. I want good food ba2a, and I hate home delivery, so they either start cooking real food or let me go dine out without calling me to yell!


I’ve been sitting on my desk all day juggling tasks. During the past four hours I’ve wanted to go boil some water and dump the noodles in it and have a snack to stop my stomach from growling, but something keeps coming up! I’m going home in less than 15 minutes now. Ooh, I’m so hungry that I actually feel sick; nonetheless, I keep getting cravings of Feta cheese & tomato or tuna & corn. It’s only good because I can totally settle for either if they all there was at home were yesterday’s kaware3.


Ok, I should go home now. Good day everyone.

Why doesn't revenge taste so sweet?

Did I ever mention that I find vengeance to be one of the most interesting notions? It is; it’s such a drive that has its very own strong momentum and it can just drag for years and years, and like it or not it’s behind a lot of good plots be it in reality or fiction.

Is it a co-incidence that most of my favorite movies revolve around the consuming idea of vengeance. When I first read A Tale of Two Cities, as appalled as I was by Madame De Farge’s unforgiving pursuit of Charles Darnay and his family, deep down, I couldn’t help but sympathize for the amount of injustice she’s been subjected to which completely changed her into what she’s become. You must react to that kind of hurt and feel for it even if it turns into something so cruel.

When I read The Count of Monte Cristo, I was satisfied with Edmond’s revenge and it was as if I was getting my own. Yes, I believe in payback and it in its healing power just as I believe in the destruction it could cause to all parties.

I could go on and on about vengeance and how I think it could be legitimate, as well as when I think it went to an uncontrollable extreme, but I’m not sure I’d come up with something any more brilliant than all the things that’s been previously written. Just take my word for it, revenge is a very strong thing and it’s anything simple or marginal; it’s also the thought that came to mind as I started writing this.

Where do I begin, I’m sure a lot of those who read this know where it started, or at least are familiar enough. Nonetheless, I find it hard to write this coherently because if I do it will be too long for me to write and it might get more personal than I can afford, so it will just be bits and pieces, and I’ll leave it to your imagination to fill in the details.

I once told him I’d break him to pieces if he’d ever hurt me that way again. I looked him right in the eyes saying I’d destroy him and he’d see a side of me neither of us knew existed. I guess he knew me better then because he never believed; he hurt me anyway! When the time came for me to use everything I could possibly know against him, I just couldn’t. I am not saying I am a better person here, I am not; because I spent enough time thinking of how I could harm him, and there came times when I was very close to doing it, I just didn’t know if I had it in me to live with myself and whatever consequences there were to come.

Some time long after I got over my shock and my agony, I stumbled into a movie, Something’s Gotta Give. At the end, when Jack Nicholson goes all the way to Paris to win Diane Keaton back, only he finds her there with Keanu Reeves (EWWWW). There is that moment where they’re singing her happy birthday and she’s laughing so happily in Keanu’s arms (EWWWW again), and you can see the way Nicholson looking at her an you can almost hear him thinking “that should have been me holding her”. That was when I decided that the only revenge I could get without being a horrible person was to see that very same look on his face. I wanted him to see me living happily, enjoying the life he can no longer share with me.

I forced myself to move on and be stronger just to have that moment. I glorified the feeling I’d get and used it as a motive to get myself up, dust myself off, and start all over again. I can’t deny that I have a relationship phobia or that I have so little faith in love. I can’t deny that in the process of moving on, I almost stumbled and fell, and that I still look back and wonder what the hell happened back there. I always end up shaking my head and saying it didn’t matter; I was never ready and it was never meant to be. Little by little, it started to be less about my revenge moment and more about just getting by day after the other.

Now, that we’re on talking basis again, I see him quite often. He very occasionally hints that he still wants me back and that I’m better off with him than with anybody to the extent that I find it insulting because WOW, if I’m better off with him then I’m really bound to misery! Seeing him, talking to him and having to communicate with him amicably for the boys’ sake, I realized I’m actually capable of being a bigger person, something I never thought I could do! It’s not that I am not that forgiving or that I am vindictive by nature; it’s just because I distinctively remember how hurt I was and how the idea of revenge helped me get back on my feet, or close enough.

Yesterday, I took a leap of growing up. I agreed (without much argument) to have the kids visit his grandma before her surgery. I did that knowing there will be all sorts of people I dislike there. I wasn’t that pleasant except to the one person in his family that’s been decent to me, and the sick person to whom I couldn’t really afford beingharsh, given her age and her health status despite how much I dislike her. I could clearly see how embarrassed he was when his kids didn’t know his own immediate family and were too intimidated to let go of my hands, I actually felt sorry for him and kneeled on my knees as I tried to soothe the boys and tell them to go say hi to people I don’t even like. I don’t know, I really surprise myself at times.

Today, I had that moment I had almost forgotten that I once wanted! I just did a while ago. It wasn’t face to face, and I didn’t have a Keanu to hold me (THANK GOD), only I didn’t think it brought as much comfort as I once thought it would.

He apologized, he acknowledged his faults and he said I was never the bad person he worked so hard to make it sound like.

He said he was lonely and with all that money could buy him, he couldn’t find someone who loved him the way he knew I once did.

He said he was miserable, and it was eating him up that he can no longer see that love in my eyes, and that the best he could hope for was indifference.

He said he found some of my last journals from before I left, and that he read how I gradually lost hope in him, and he couldn’t believe he had become that person he himself detested as he read on.

I wanted to stop him because it sounded too sincere and I didn’t want him to put himself out there when I knew I was going to reject him at the end of his speech. Only he wouldn’t let me, he said his apology was due and it was hard enough for him to apologize so I should just let him.

Why didn’t I feel the warmth and fuzziness I promised myself all those two years? Why did I not smile contently that he’s sorry and suffering? Why did I not find solace in his misery and regret?

I have two theories; it’s either because I have more damage than him only it wasn’t my own doing like it is in his case, or because I have taken my time healing on my own, I no longer need any revenge from him. I don’t think it’s either, at least not exclusively.

Either way, his apology didn’t bring that much of a victory I long anticipated! In the contrary, it brought confusion because as he spoke of good things we once shared, I found my mind drifting to the horrible things that happened and took all the good away. He spoke of memories that were no longer so vivid and it confused me even more to be caught between resentment and sympathy for the same person.

I really wish we could write the words “The End” now, and that we can manage to be good to each other outside the marriage just for the sake of the kids. He still says it’s too hard for him to let me go, but I would like to think he would after all is clear enough to him. He thinks I might change my mind given time, but he doesn’t get that the more time I spend with him, the more I realize we were not a good match like I once thought and that there is nothing in the world that would make me repeat the mistake of choosing to be with him.

At the end of the day, I am glad and grateful I am not in his shoes and I do not have his burdens or his guilt. I realize that it is a blessing that I am not enjoying my revenge because it means that there is something in me he couldn’t change. Did that make any sense?

Years and years later, it still gets to me!

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.

On –happy- endings!

There was a time I was big on happy endings and big words like closure. I would jump to the last page of a book hoping it would give me a clue to whether I would like it or not, and even while reading, I’d skip details just to jump to the end much faster missing out on descriptions of surroundings or tones of speech! It never really made me enjoy books less for all I know. Part of it is due to being a Gemini I suppose; luckily, it came with good intuition that helped me guess or rather imagine the things I skipped!

It was not just about my intellectual preference; this is how I lived most of my life, always looking forward impatiently to what’s next. I always looked one step forward, which caused me to not enjoy what I had to the fullest. I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy my life, I am just saying that I could have done better, much better actually!

I always thought I’d live my life like a movie in a way, with a rather short duration with too much events, all taking place so rapidly before my time comes! And I wanted a happy ending, I wouldn’t have compromised for less; call it the Disney effect or whatever, but all I ever wanted was my own happy ending just like all those fictional characters.

Years later and on a closer look, I realize happy endings are everywhere. No, let me rephrase that; happy is everywhere, it just isn’t the ending, and perhaps even neither is sad an ending!

I read/watched it somewhere but I can’t find the exact words or the reference for it… They tell you how the movie ends, they make you believe that all the troubles cease to exist and that those in love find eternal happiness and live happily ever after! But they don’t show you what happens next; that in time, they get over their happiness and then troubles and bitterness catch up, and they start fighting over the smallest of things to the extent that their epic happiness is forgotten or no longer counts for anything. He’s never there and she’s always complaining, and then the happy ending turns into built up resentment from both sides… I really wish I remembered where the original lines of that meaning came from; they really speak for me.

Yes, we live our lives with the notion that we’re defined solely by endings when in reality, it is far more complicated; how can one be strictly defined by an ending of which they know nothing?! Or at least this is how I see it…

You can choose a special moment of victory in your life and call it your happy ending, making your life eternally revolve around the fulfillment of that purpose until the day you die.

Or you can freeze a sad moment of losing something you once held so dear and refuse to move on, creating your very own tragic ending.

Or you can just choose to take mental pictures of your happy moments to help you get over your sad ones as you go on in life from one adventure to the next, hoping that at the end of your journey the good will outweigh the bad and you’ll perhaps die with a smile on your face and be occasionally remembered with one.

In fewer words, it’s in the details that you find true meanings, not in the endings; ironically, closures have more to do with those details, only we get it at the end when it all adds up.

And I strike again…

There was a time I was known for my attitude. Actually, I kinda still am. My friends tell me I can be really intimidating to others and that I give the impression that I’m capable of biting people’s heads off or something. I know I keep saying I am so peaceful and all, I still think I am, but I like to know that I can give such impression when I have to; it’s my only defense strategy since I can’t really return harm.

From time to time, some people just push that button and unleash the crazy me who has fiery attitude, like that girl from Vodafone. Today I took another swing…

Me: Aloo, MSE School???
Her: Aiwa ya fandem
Me: kont etkalemt abl keda 3ashan as2al 3al admissions for KG1 wa2abel 7ad, but you said I should call today to arrange for that…
Her *with quite a bored tone*: yoom 15 7adretek
Me *trying to catch her before she hangs up*: sanya wa7da law sama7ty, I called in February you told me etkalemy awel March, I called earlier this week, olteely attesel ennaharda, and here I am! What’s wrong?!
Her *again with the bored tone in addition to a little attitude*: ya fandem e7na lessa mabada2nash admissions lelly malhomsh ekhwat hena…
Me *kinda interrupting*: yess, I am aware of that, but you keep pushing it further and further, it’s conflicting with my own agenda! We Kaman, I have a friend of mine who already had an interview for his son who was accepted here at your school earlier in February!
Her: akeed leeh akh kebeer
Me: NOO, and that’s exactly why I’m a bit upset here, my friend’s son has no brothers in your school and he’s my son’s age, so fe eh mokhtalef?
Her: yemken madrasa Tanya?
Me: (Seriously, how ridiculous is that!)nope, he practically showed me your premises!
Her: ma3rafsh ba2a, yemken feh exception…
Me: no, he did not say that was any wasta fel mawdoo3, he just showed up and was told the applications were not ready but then you worked things out when he insisted that he doesn’t have much free time to come back again…
Her *very impatiently*: ana fe3lan ma3andeesh fekra, fa I think 7adretek etkalemy yoom 15 we 7adedy ma3ad…

She hung up…

For a few seconds I was baffled, and then I decided to attack, so I redialed…

Me: Alo, enty lessa AFLA MA3AYA… listen, I need to interview whoever in charge because I have a deadline before of which I should decide on the school… so I can fill the application later, but I need to meet with someone in charge who will explain to me how you people work and show me around in the school and give me all the information I need about both the English and French sections so that I can decide hadakhal ebny 3andoko wala la2…. If you cannot help me with that, I most likely will not be interested to have my son at your school but I will also make sure that the principal or whoever in charge knows that his administration SUCKS, so will you help me or do I have to make more calls or even show up!
Her *with a completely changed tone*: oh, 7adretek leh ma2olteesh keda men el awel, khalas momken teegy te2ably Ms. S, we heya hate3mellek tour fel madrasa we teshra7lek el nezam…
Me: (now you’re talking) tayeb, shokran, 3ayza ba2a a7added ma3ad la2en I came earlier this week and I was told to call today…
Her: fe ay wa2t men 8:30 le 1:00…
Me: ya3ne agy delwa2ty?
Her: yoom el 7ad…
Me: ok, merci…

I hung up…

This school has lost a huge chunk of points, but I will still go because it had an impressive school portfolio given my criteria of concern. Nonetheless, I can’t promise I will be on my best behavior when I go. Intimidating me is soooo in…