Friday, November 24, 2017

A Painful Fate

Salam 3lykm,
This is something I wrote a few days ago, whilst waiting in the dentist's office with no Wi-Fi. The Middle East needs to catch up on the rest of the world, when it comes to the Internet. Waiting on Elon Musk, for free Internet worldwide!

That said, I'll leave you to peruse my thoughts...give you a little 'teaser' - if you will - of what my heart and mind have been subjected to, and probably will be subjected to, for life. Sounds like a death sentence, and feels like one, too.

Anger. That's exactly what I feel. Blind rage, for being taken advantage of. Emotionally, mentally, physically. The more I think about it, the more it burns. And the more it burns, the more I curse my existence.

Yet again, used. The cycle repeats itself, doesn't it? Maybe that's why I was hooked. Subconsciously, my brain detected the similarities...why, though? Why go through it all over again? Then again, I didn't choose it for myself this time. It was chosen for me.

Do I hold on, anticipating change? Or do I pretend to, in revenge? Do I let go just when I'm expected to stay? Or do I just play dead? And hope somewhere in between, it turns into reality?

Thursday, November 16, 2017


Salam 3lykm,

This post is going to be different. It's going to be like a 'one-take': raw, and unadulterated. It's going to be depressive, so if you've been looking forward to seeing something cheerful pop up on my blog, this is the time to hit the 'x' button on your browsers.

There's not going to be any fancy editing, because just adds more pressure to my already-pressurized mind. I'm like a ticking bomb. It is what it is: free writing. Dont expect any literary wonder either; I need this for MY sanity right now, so if you think this might give you some sort of  reassurance, I highly doubt it will. You still have time to hit 'x'.

I have two beautiful sons, yet when mothers gush about living for their children, or through their children..I cannot understand. Here I am, praying that I don't live for long, so my children don't have to endure my presence. I find myself looking forward to leaving them motherless, not because I'm shirking away from my responsibilities, but because I feel like I'm raising psychopaths. After all, how can someone with anxiety be trusted to raise a normal human being?

My anxiety attacks have started to become more frequent; I'm literally a nervous wreck all the goddamn time. Not exactly the most pleasant person to be around either, I'd imagine. What once used to be a daunting fear, I've now come to terms with: failure. After all, you can't really run away from Fate...can you?

I'm so tired of trying to explain myself to people; scratch that, I'm exhausted. I feel so drained, physically..mentally..emotionally, I really just want to switch off, and never feel a thing ever again. I feel like I wasn't made for this world; I hate it with all my being. I hate deceit. And I hate it even more, when it comes from those you are closest to.

I'm at a point where I never want to see certain people in my life ever again. Especially in the Hereafter. You've caused me so much pain; stay away, please. You've made me feel so inadequate; you've made me feel like I was at fault, when it was really all...YOU. As I type this, I feel like I have this ball in my throat...except it feels like my heart. Not a ball. What does it mean? What does any of it mean?

Love is a nightmare. I've gone through hell and back, except I feel like there's no coming back. It's a black hole. It always has been, and probably will always be. I've lost myself time and time again, to love. Let's say, if love was alive, I'd bludgeon it to death with a blunt object.

I have fantasized about running away, switching off all forms of contact with the world. Running away 'til I look back, and see nothing. Running away 'til I'm blinded by sweat, and regurgitating bitter bile, in an attempt to purge myself of the memories left by love. I want to start afresh, a clean slate.

I want to start with not having any emotions, ever. I'm sick and tired of feeling...make me heartless. I wish I could wave a stylus - and like a comic illustrator - turn my character into a heroine in charge of her emotions. I would start by never being fazed, especially by those she loves. Because they are the ones who deliver the lowest blows to the heart.

I'm tired. My eyes are finally closing, and if I don't sleep now....I'll be a momster again to my precious babies. How my heart aches, everytime those soulful eyes look up at me in confusion, when 'Mama gets mad'. How wretched I feel, when I see tears streaming down their chipmunk cheeks....because 'Mama cannot understand'.

I'm going to turn to free writing, in an attempt to rid myself of what feels like depression. It's weighing down upon me..ever so heavily, and all I want to let it consume me. But I will fight. If anything, I'll NOT do it for my children, or loved ones. I'll do it for the one who deserves better, but has FOREVER been prioritized last: ME.

'Til next time, Reader...I bid thee, 'Farewell'.