Behind The Scenes of My Life

It is now week three and I have been struggling to get up and get going. I have to spend hours convincing myself to brush my teeth and take a shower. My day starts in the afternoon and that just means my eyes reluctantly open to another painfully passive half day, spent doing nothing aside from crying and struggling to accomplish simple tasks.

Eating is out of the question. I want to starve and I just don’t care for food. Well, my stomach disagrees and I am sure it dreads having to stay hungry all day when it knows food is only a few minutes walk away. It has come to terms with not eating breakfast…

Stomach( interrupting): Excuse me! Excuse me! I will take over from here on!(clears throat)So, where were we? Oh yes, breakfast, my God-given right, has been denied. Why you ask? Because sleeping beauty here refuses to wake up.If she ever does wake up at the earliest in these last three weeks, that would be a little after noon. Even then, she won’t care for a drink of water, let alone a meal. It is during these times, I try and send her signals to feed me. I try the oldest trick in the book: growling and pinching, hoping that would scare her to grab a banana.When this does not work, I try to call the Central Nervous System to complain and send help, by springing this human into action and go get me some food, but the line has not been working these past few weeks. It just does not go through. I wonder if something’s up, up there because normally, the CNS takes care of me every day and I don’t need to make any calls except for ramadhan, then I am reminded that I will be treated mighty well and compensated with delicious meals after sunset and I have been really happy with that arrangement. However, I could swear it is not ramadhan. I could swear that because I have been neglected way too much and sometimes I am given only a few bananas for the day and that’s it. That would never have happened during ramadhan. So no, it is not ramadhan. The CNS would have told me if it was. What is going on?CNS? Anyone?

Me(interrupting): Can I please finish what I was saying?

Stomach: Sure, but hurry up and EAT something soon, ANYTHING!

Me: Okay sure, of course. Just a few minutes.

Me: Did I mention it has been tough? Yeah. Terribly, numbingly and endlessly torturous. When will I feel normal again? Reality won’t wait forever. If I remember well, I have got oral exams coming soon, when was that? First of November? Or was it sometime later? In any case, reading any book right now would require a miracle; the sea-splitting- into-two type of miracle for Zeinab, not Israelis, to read atleast one book.

God in heaven, can’t I be a Moses? Or better yet David, so I can defeat this giant that is eating up the quality of my life?

A few minutes before now, I successfully managed to shower. While in the bathroom, contemplating my pathetic helplessness, I held the soap in my couldn’t-care-less right hand , and as I forced it to slide the soap over my I want-to-be-anywhere-else-but-here body, I found myself laughing at my sorry state of being. Even this simple and necessary act of basic hygiene, makes me uncaring and unfeeling. Hahahahaha! I chuckled bitterly as an idea came to my limp mind. I saw myself before I came to this world, negotiating with whoever it was, what hell I was going to pick to experience on earth. There were several choices displayed before me: cancer, physical disability, depression and the list went on and on and I picked depression with an added bonus of anxiety and a mood disorder. I must have also picked lovelessness, family dysfunction and secret child syndrome to complete the amazing ensemble! Wow! I am so lucky! Indeed.

Sarcasm aside, I believe there is a messed-up system in this world which makes me doubt it has our best interests at heart. We are practically handed stuff we never asked for and have to work hard throughout our life to get stuff we need to survive. I don’t think God did this. I imagine there was a group of somethings that hijacked the control room of the world stage. And I would not trust them with my cat’s dinner, let alone my life. No wonder every religion I am close to speaks of a better life, an eternal life far far faaaaaaaar away from this one. That is a relief, because this one!!No this shouldn’t, cannot, must not be it!

You Don’t Have To Fight Anymore

Dear all of you who have been in hell,

You don’t have to fight anymore!

You survived. You came through to the other side of hell. You no longer have to take a defensive stance anymore. You are safe.

I know the place you have come from. A place which made you suffocate. A toxic home environment. A narcissistic ex. A deal gone wrong. Cancer. Heartbreak and pain. That place made you scared. It is a dark place to be at. You held on with all your strength. And had to borrow some. You refused to give up. You wanted to so much, but you could not pack up and run. Because where else would you go? Who cared enough about what you had been through. All people saw was a wreck. All people heard in your cries was complaints. They would not understand. No they just don’t care. Because it is not happening to them. They will only care to judge, saying, ” Oh you have changed!”. How do they expect you to remain the same, when all that you went through alone took such a toll on your very essence as a soul. Don’t they remember the wars you had to fight alone? One against them all? How could they forget your dark nights of the soul? Those moments you wished you had died. But alive you still remained. How would they know? They would not understand. You gave your all in the fight. But the dark hole took just as much as well. It took your smile. Your free spirit. It stole your heart and turned it to bile. It made sure you would always stay afraid. Afraid of trusting in the world. Afraid of opening your heart. Your softness turned into aggression. Your warmth to ice. You built walls. As high up as the sky. Nobody could break through to reach your true self. You stayed alert. Always weary of others’ intentions. You don’t need to fight anymore. The worst is over.

Start a Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑