Saturday, June 1, 2019

me: i never want to share my feelings with anyone again. also me:

I have been thinking about this blog for a couple of weeks. I have sort of been wanting to go back to posting stuff as normal. Ideas flit through my head - funny stories from my teens, stuff about relationships, family, work, cats. But writing any of that would be disingenuous, because my head simply refuses to go into a space where I can share something lighthearted. I wouldn't want to force a funny story out just for the sake of it. It would probably make me feel worse about myself.

I had a full blown panic attack a couple of days ago. This was the first major one since last November. My body seized up and I felt like I was going to die. Images of every hurtful event in my life kept flashing in my head, my ears were ringing and my breathing was labored. It felt like every bad thing that could possibly happen, would.


Thankfully my mum and grandmum were there to calm me down and talk me through it (I feel bad because no one should be subjected to my howl-like crying). Once I was stable, I sent a few sniffly voice notes to my close friend just to let some of the tension out... and then the day went on as normal. (please note: normal isn't good, it's just the state I've resigned myself to exist in).

As the three month mark to my grandfather's death approaches, the pain hasn't decreased one bit. There hasn't been a single night when I haven't sat/lain in bed and sobbed over his death and the events that led to it. My pillow has become oddly misshapen by how I press my face into it trying not to make any noise crying. This is the state of my entire household: when there is complete silence in the middle of the night, I can sometimes hear soft weeping or the blowing of a nose through the doors and walls. These are welcome sounds to me - the shared grief is probably the strongest connection my family has ever had.

The feeling of Eid approaching is making me sick. I know that everyone around me will be celebrating as normal (as they obviously and deservedly should, no shade at all)... but I know I will not be strong enough to face the influx of wishes and greetings and the inevitable horde of ignorant people thinking it's okay to invade a house of mourning and demand to be entertained. I just want to be left alone.

Speaking of being left alone... at times that's the only thing that helps. Having time in isolation heals me as much as it destroys me. Continuous interaction with anyone outside of necessity makes me want to throw up in my mouth. I'd rather live a life of silence than ever have to 'open up' to anyone again. Gross.

Oh also:


I got another cat. So it's not all gone to shit.

Wednesday, April 24, 2019

dilapidation

2019 has probably been the worst year of my life. Losing my grandfather last month took a huge emotional toll on me - it is something I don't think I can ever recover from. The weeks leading up to his death were stressful and painful enough, but the weeks after have been filled with debilitating agony. I can't think of a single reason to be happy anymore - any positive emotion I showcase is all a pretense. I feel trapped in my life - this is something that I have always thought (at least since the past 6 years), but the feeling has been by far the most overpowering this year.

I wrote a post about being suicidal (which I removed) and another one that was sort of just me rambling about what was on my mind. I don't think I have improved from that point in any capacity. Yes, there are a few periods of distraction (especially with the influx of family and other people visiting for condolences) and things like my uni courses which I spend most of my waking hours on. But the truth is that I have not improved in the slightest. I made a visual in order to express how I have been feeling over the past few months:


Speaking of uni, it slightly concerns me that I have absolutely no emotion regarding my progress. I barely ever get graded anything below 90... but I don't feel anything. No pride, no happiness. And to think it was always a goal of mine to do well in my education. There was a point in my life - I want to say around high school? Where such good grades and their maintenance would put me on a high for days. Now, I try so hard - it's not like I don't - to evoke some sort of emotion within me. I share my grades with my friends and family, and I get to see their happiness and pride... But it just doesn't compute. The sense of numbness has taken over my life so much that I get absolutely nothing out of doing my best.


However, funnily enough, if I get grades lower than 90 I feel like I have failed myself and anyone who ever believed in me. Objectively I know this sort of thinking is highly unhealthy. I mean, people would be satisfied with an 80 or even a 70. But to me, it's another addition to my burdens - the feeling of not being good enough. It is not something I can control, even though I get so many affirmations from my professors, my friends, my family. In terms of my academic performance I either feel nothing, or I feel an overwhelming sense of self-loathing. It really is a shame I suppose, considering how hard I worked and how many adversities and struggles I faced to get to this point. Working for four years non-stop to save up enough, all while watching my friends graduate, then move on to Masters, and then graduate from that. Being in an underpaid, mentally and emotionally taxing workplace with no space for growth. Being hit, kicked, bit, scratched (working with children with special needs is tough) and trying to cram a module at a time in between late nights and long weekends, or on the hour-long commute on the bus and the train. I went through all of that, and it's a shame I taste no fruits of my labor because everything is just... switched off.

I feel like saying 'I just want to be happy again' would be counterproductive, as I can't remember the last time I felt pure joy. When my sister was born? That was 6 years ago. Before or after that? I really cannot say.

Anyway. I want to end this by thanking everyone who ever reached out. Be it through email, a phone call, a message, a comment, whatever. Thank you. I deeply appreciate you. Here's a few messages I saved over the past couple of months.



When the lows are really low, I pull these out and read through them. And I gain the strength to face another day.

Fareeha

Thursday, March 7, 2019

I am broken.

Yesterday was my 25th birthday. Today, my grandfather died.

What used to be a dull ache in my heart has now turned into a full-blown, all-consuming, mind-numbing agony.

Life as I know it is over.