More angst in the week I find my third white hair.

My life seems to be an ode to how alone one person can be. The tagline for the movie could be 'How many lessons will it take?'

I know that being alone - both in terms of having my own space and time, and in being independent with no shackles - is what I want. But sometimes getting what you what you want doesn't feel so good if you don't have anyone to share it with. Which is a significant problem here, I guess.

I am prone to melodrama and catastrophising but in recent times have learned that the hysteria will pass and I won't feel so terrible or think the same things in a few hours' time. However, on my drive home last night I had a few moments of realisation of pure truths. I escaped my parents' place in the dark while everyone was in the living room, uncles and aunties discussing stuff they have very little right to and with very little grace - I felt like such a rebel, sneaking my laundry out by the side gate (it's always locked but I got lucky) and closing my car door as quietly as possible.

Anyway, in between the midnight crying and feeling sorry for myself, I realised that as angry and intolerant as I am, there are very few people I don't respect at least to some extent. And once I lose respect for someone, there is just no coming back (a bit Darcy coming through here haha). It takes me forever and so very many incidents to realise how despicable someone is. I don't know if this is good because I give people chances, or if it's tragic because I'm so desperate to feel safe with good people around me that it takes me ten times as long to learn a lesson. I think perhaps the latter.

The other thing I realised with perfect clarity is that I really am alone in my corner. I have no one I can call at midnight to cry, or anyone who will understand the family dynamics and cultural context. A lot of us are lucky enough to grow up with a present family around us. Some of us are perpetually unhappy with our families, and it takes us decades to realise it because of one or two people who have no kindness or thought for anyone but themselves. Last night, I was attacked and dragged for asking a fairly simple question, by my mother, an aunt, uncles - all people who are supposed to teach and love. My father didn't step in. My sisters couldn't speak up because the same treatment awaited them. I had no one to call on my way home, and there is literally no one in my life who will understand the cultural and family ways. I can't protect my siblings anymore, and in reality, I'm not sure I have ever been able to protect them from the family. No one should need protection from their own family.

It all made me question how I could be 27 years old with no friends and support network. No older person to ask for wisdom, no group  of friends who will let me feel sorry for myself and tell me I can join their family. This total isolation is a little more freeing now, in the daylight. I have always wanted to know that I can just pack a backpack and take off if I needed to. And having no close ties to anyone makes it easier to leave people behind. My friends won't miss me (tragic but also oddly comforting because it leaves room for hope that one day I will find people who will miss me). I only go back to my parents' for my siblings, and now that they are growing up and moving on, and I realise there is nothing I can do to help them and I am not needed anymore, I think that maybe I will feel less guilty for staying away in the future. I will always love and miss my siblings, but my presence doesn't help anyone, and I seem to attract criticism and yelling whenever I'm there, so it almost feels like I'm doing them a service for not going back.

I think I'm showing a bit of bravado right now, but we'll see how long I can last on my own. Humans are social creatures, and for all of my desperate need to be totally self-sufficient, I, too, need people.

In view of having no one to vent to, I suppose I will have to whinge here more frequently. I don't really know who I'm writing this for, except that typing is easier than handwriting (I have a tremor in my hands now that just won't go away) and if my house burns down or I have to run away with only what I can carry, I won't have to worry about losing the books I've poured my feelings into. Nothing ever really disappears online, does it? Also there is a part of me that still secretly dreams of the day people discover my writing and most excellent life and my blog attracts a cult following and attention from anonymous users will gratify my ego.

Let's leave the pity party here, for now.

Peace and love,

S.

Baby Elephants and BAMFs.

I found out that I failed the year I have just repeated. I would have needed a 45 to qualify for re-sits but I managed a 44. Disappointing.

The grief and disappointment comes in waves, a new panic each time. Deep breaths and distractions.

I know that Allah (swt) has a plan, nothing happens without a reason, and I'm trying to accept the truth instead of dwelling on it or getting angry (although there's a certain amount of healthy anger in the grieving process). It's difficult not to be frustrated by what looks like a lack of progress. And also the bizarre lack of avenues for help. It's like the School has put all of it's shields up and armed the muskets in case someone gets close.

I want to be a baby elephant in the muddy planes of somewhere in Africa's heart. I want to flop into the mud and refuse to get up and I want the herd to come and pick me up and then we play in the clean river and and everyone hurrumphs, laughing and joyous.

I am so grateful to everyone who has shown me the smallest kindness. I don't think people realise how much those little things mean. I'm getting a bit teary thinking about all of the sweetest, kindest, most generous people in my life.

I often have moments of aching realisation that I don't really have friends. But not having a best friend doesn't mean that the beautiful souls I have met are any less special, and I know that they will genuinely want to help me and be friends. I think the fact that these generous and open-hearted people are friends with everyone kind of makes me feel like I'm only in their friendship group because they are kind to everyone they come across, but then again, I won't be looking this gift horse in the mouth.

You are what you do often, and if you are around good people who do good things, their goodness will rub off on you and some day or night in the future, you will be just as bright as your favourite star in the sky.
----------------------------------------
Okay I had to take a break to cry because someone sent me a nice message and is just so lovely (she was head of division for this first aid thing I volunteered at in G-town). I think that's happened a couple of times this year - crying because someone was nice. I don't know why we don't all do it more often. There is so much good in the world, behind the big blobs of despair. And I maintain that tears are good for your skin. Pretty sure the only reason I didn't have teenage skin issues was because I cried daily.

Skyped with an amazing friend who is the most self-less person I have ever met. This whisper of wishes in my head keeps wanting her to convert to Islam so we can be in Paradise together. She is such an amazing person, with the biggest heart. She deserves everything good.

So really, my life is not so bad. Being a muddy baby elephant with a herd I can call mine would be lovely. But then I wouldn't have met all of these bamfs. Alhamdulillah for every blessing.

Peace and love,

S.

STAND AND DELIVER - THE WHITE MAN SAYS SO.

So I got a call asking if I wanted to do some market research, said yes as long as it doesn't involve alcohol (non-halal stuff) and the bright young spark on the other side of the phone launched into a quite abrasive way of asking questions about Islam like 'Did you as a female choose to be Muslim because your religion is so misogynistic etc'. 

Credit to him for actually asking and listening to the answers, and sometimes trying to be polite about it (actually zero times), and 15minutes in I tried to give him an easy out because I had corrected every single piece of garbage 'knowledge' he had spewed and didn't want to make it him feel more awkward or shallow so I asked him how old he is (21) and what he was studying (some combination of economics and law) and I was like oh yeah my cousin is studying law - and then - wait for it - the misogynistic tapeworm automatically assumed the cousin is a guy. His brain would have imploded if he found out that my mother qualified as a doctor twice, with the second one being in her 3rd (4th?) language and simultaneously dealing with 5 children. 

I got all of the horrible questions - beheadings, deliberately dying as a martyr, polygamy (this was a good one - 'we are animal and we're not designed to be with one person for life, we're supposed to SPREAD OUT SEED, but having casual sex partners is okay and different to a woman allowing her husband to add a second wife for whom he's has to provide for equally etc. is wrong') and lots of "I haven't read the Quran but I watched this documentary and it was really good and the I read the Quran (?but you said you haven't??) says women are inferior" and it went on and on and on in this vein. 

And he had actually just called to ask if I'd like like to taste test some lemonade for their research group. Like, WHAT THE ACTUAL FCK??? I couldn't remember a single scholar to recommend watching on youtube because there I was enjoying my mature cheddar and BAM! STAND AND DEFEND YOUR INDIVIDUAL IDENTITY AS WELL AS THOSE OF 1.7 BILLION OTHERS BECAUSE THIS 21YO MALE HAS WATCHED A DOCUMENTARY THAT SHOWED THAT MOST MUSLIMS ARE JUST HUMANS.

And all I had wanted to do was take a lunch break and eat my mature cheddar. 

S.

PS I'm not as angry as this post may suggest, but he interrupted my cheese time. Luckily mum called soon after to tell me she loves me and how I was such a good little girl back in the day. Nothing quite like praise from someone you love to perk you up again :) Also, he's not going to learn if he doesn't ask questions, and only God knows the many and varied silly things I've said and done out of pure ignorance. I'm glad if I can be the person to pull someone over to the light, and I would like documented credit to me if this interaction contributes to his learning or broadening of his mind in some way.

S.

Even lateral movement is still movement.

Sometimes you catch yourself routinely watering a dead plant over and over again, like there is some hope that are is some tiny part of the plant is alive deep down, and this tiny part will come out and eventually bloom. I’ve been doing this lately for a fern given out as wedding favours at the wedding of a dear friend, so this anecdote can stop here and be literal, told as a joke.  

But I have many feelings that keep wanting to come out, so there is more. 

I guess that desperate hope is what I find when I keep trying to manage stress and sadness and fears and obesity. I keep plugging away and going through the motions in the hope that there exists a tiny healthy bright part of me that will make it all worth it. Often when you try really hard, your only consolation is that you tried at all. I desperately want to bet better, but maybe what counts - and what really gives value to my person and my life - is the fact that i’m chipping away at this mountain, even if all i have is a butter knife (which i admit i only use to put the right about of hummus on my wafer crackers).

Peace and love,

S.

You want rewiring done right, you have to do it yourself.

I have more feelings to share and it's one of these things that fill in some small part of your heart/soul and it's not a huge stride but it is a shuffle forward. This piece will one day be fleshed out into the most revolutionary of all political compendiums, but here is the first draft.

---------------

Learning to deal with new/current/old things using a new approach means you're literally rewiring your brain. The older you are, the harder it gets, not just because certain pathways have become very strong, but also because you don't necessarily have the means to hijack an existing network to link new thoughts and habits together to your core and growing new branches towards other dendrites takes ages. But you'll get there.

Learning to stay calm - to suppress and redirect the aspects of your flight/fight/freeze of your stress response - that's really tough and so, so, SO hard. But you can do it, because the next time you ask a older privileged white man about how to find a mentor and he immediately tells you that he understands what you're going through and that he has a a good friend who is Indian, you are able to actually say with polite words that 'yeah that's awesome, thank you for your business card, will totes come to you for career/life advice'. And you will do this without crying, or breaking the pen your holding, or literally slamming your head into a brick wall.

You will do this because this person's ignorance is not your fault or your enemy. Yeah, the three-year-old wants to shout NO, the teenager wants to roll her eyes, the young adult wants scream with the injustice of his misconception,. But you have disconnected the reactionary driver, and you deal with the situation with the default politeness you've been working on, and send a few thoughts down to the big processing centre to file away as 'brownie points for self-restraint'.

You are exposing old networks of anxiety and frustration to a pacifist's approach, teaching those high-strung neurones to reach for this new piece of golden nugget with soft hands and a softer heart.

Peace and love,

S.

Procrastination and the thoughts you have long after a conversation is over.

Okay, so I'm having trouble focusing on this assignment that's due soon, so I'm going tell you a story instead.

Back in the day, when I was young and yet to find a white hair on my head, this guy told me that the idea of paying zero interest on loans (interest is forbidden under shariah laws regarding business) is putting undue stress on the poorer people in society.

Wth, right?

I tried to explain it to him - it's not a difficult idea to understand, the fact that not charging interest on loans is in the best interest of those who have the least amount of money - and he responded with 'well I did a semester of economics at Melbourne Uni and you haven't studied any economics so I'm better qualified' (paraphrased) and I was like ???

In the naïveté of my youth and the profound sense of anger I feel at every injustice in the world, I got worked up about this silly person and his silly understanding of how exploitative interest is. In fact, I'm getting annoyed thinking about it right now. Why do I care so much about this incident, so many years on?

But that's not the point of the story.

The point is that I was young and silly and did not have the presence of mind to take a step back and try to understand where this guy's silliness came from. Here was a privileged white boy trying to tell me that my religion was wrong for making it easier for people of lower income to buy the same things as the 1%, and nothing I said was going to change his mind.

So why didn't I understand that people are funny and find it hard to let go of any idea that's comforting to them, regardless of how wrong it is? Kind of like how I know that lots of carbs aren't healthy but they make me so happy, and telling me that carbs are bad isn't going to make me happy or change the eating habits of an obese generation. Change doesn't come from arguing with an idiot, and, if you're a more benevolent person than me, you won't label the idiot in the first place.

Change comes from your own insight and subsequent actions that may help others achieve insight as well. Not that you can predict or direct insight. Some of the brightest people you know will have the least insight into their own selves and behaviours. It's not something that's dependent on intelligence or knowledge or how nice you think you are/try to be. I guess it's a mixture of life and luck - you happen to be in a particular situation or mood and the right particles collide to set off flashes in your brain and for a split second you GET it. Hopefully you can hold on to that glimpse into the workings of the universe, but if you don't, don't stress, because it gets easier the more you open yourself up to it.

I feel like I was trying to tell you something really profound and also take a passive aggressive dig at the guy who annoyed me (obviously I posted something on fb and he messaged to say sorry and i was like 'nah it's cool i would have told you if i had a problem with you'- a complete lie, btw) and I haven't quite done the first bit. What I have done, though, is put off working on this assignment.

Back to it, I guess.

Peace and love,

S.

Two thoughts collide.

I had this weird moment of realisation last night, on walking into the house.

On my short drive home I was having an imaginary conversation in my head, and I had a sudden flashback to when I was a teenager - I used to think that I was going through phases after all of my friends were done with that phase, like I was somehow lagging behind in emotional and social development.

And last night I was having this imagined conversation where I explain that mental illness stunts your growth, especially in terms of emotional maturity and insight. And this suddenly clicked - I was lagging behind my classmates in the phases teenagers/young people go through because I have had anxiety issues my whole life. My brain was (?is) being occupied by more than what it is normal for others, and my attention is being distorted by a constant and burning sense embarrassment and anxiousness in any and every situation.

It doesn't sound spectacular as I type this and try to think of better words to describe what happened, but suffice it to say that I had an unexpected and intense glimpse of insight into myself. It was one of those rare moments of connection and understanding of how life works, and being okay with it all.

Peace and love,
S.

Caffeine to bring you up, happy thoughts to keep you there.

Sometimes I am struck (and paralysed) by how awkward I am, but then I drink coffee and the caffeine doesn't care about small talk or funny looks, just how much happiness and wonder is in the world around me.

Obvs the coffee doesn't fix anything, people still think I'm either weird or unapproachable, but at least my inside perfectly correlates with my outside, you know? I like the idea of being an authentic person, no lying to myself regardless of what others think. Of course I want to be a decent person, but what is the point of being a good person on the outside only to have a mess of hypocrisy underneath it all?

I'm pretty sure it's the caffeine talking now, but sometimes life is superb, once you remove yourself form the littleness of your immediate surroundings/situation and connect with life and the universe on a happier wavelength. For example, I just came back from ward rounds then coffee with the ortho team (interns and registrars) and the other med student was chatting away with them and they were responding to her and ignoring me, but do I need the approval of those people in that moment? It's okay to have nothing to say, and if my aim in life is to be a decent person to interact with, not having funny stories to tell doesn't really mean much, does it? I can still be easy-going in my interactions with people and not get in their way. They won't like me in the way they like the other med student, but I'm also not offending anyone, and eventually I will find my niche.

That sounds a bit sad, but I have so many moments in my life where I connect with people or situations and everything in life seems to be dancing to the same harmony and that's a beautiful feeling, like tapping into the fundamental frequency of the universe and seeing the perfection of every object and movement in relation to the rest.

I will worry about my awkwardness and lack of approval from others later when I'm feeling down. No need to spoil this high with stressing about what I can't change, and to some extent, don't have any need to change.

Peace and love,

S.

The answer to your midnight existential crisis is always 'there is no point'.

I just came back from an ortho tute at the hospital, where I literally knew nothing.

I almost got away with saying and knowing nothing, until the end where the consultant noted that I hadn't contributed. I was supposed to do an ulnar nerve examination, and I'm not going to lie, I couldn't remember anything about the ulnar nerve, including where it runs or what it is. He was cool about it and I fluffed around a bit (which always looks so much worse than straight-out saying 'I don't know'). And then I didn't understand what he was explaining either.

I think I felt the need to pretend that I knew what I was doing because everyone else knew the answer to every question the consultant had asked/has ever asked and I don't want to give away how stupid or slack I am, even thought it's the truth. I don't even know why I'm so slack or why I don't remember anything I learn.

Anyway, point is, I nearly cried in tute, and I sort of got teary on the way home, and I'm struggling not to cry now.

And this is not what I want my life to be.

TD has pointed out a few times that happiness doesn't last, just like any other feeling, and I know this now and I knew it before she said it, but the problem is that I don't want my lows to be so very low and I don't want to be sad for so much of my life.

On the way out of the tute, I was already contemplating ways to quit med or alternative careers or what I'm going to say to people once I've failed this year.

I go straight to catastrophising every thing that goes wrong, and I can't stop because things have been bad for so long that there's no way anything good can happen ever again.

(See what I mean?)

Sometimes, in the imaginary conversations in my head with imaginary people I will never come across (their faces are of the people who I know now since I can't actually imagine them), these people observe that I seem very depressed, and my response is, 'How can you not be?' and this makes me feel more sad because it's true. How can you live in any form of society, seeing how terrible people can be, seeing the worst parts of yourself in everyone around you, and still find some level of contentment? How can you exist and not see the pointlessness of it all? You're born and you die and in the space in between you reproduce or contribute to society in some other way, and for what? What is the point? So your genes survive and the human race continues, but so what? What is this end point that we're running towards and what is the point of running to it and why does anyone care about anything? What is stopping everyone from just curling up in a corner and letting death take us?

When I'm feeling more positive, I say to these imaginary people that you're born and you die and the best you can hope for is some form of distraction in between to take your mind off the inevitable darkness that will come with death anyway, so there's no need to give in to it now. What stresses you out will eventually kill you, and life is pointless but if you want your death to hold meaning, find something worth worrying about and let that kill you instead.

Sometimes I try to compose poetry and pretend that the poetry of misery is the most profound song the universe can strive for. In 'Not Another Happy Ending' the main character is accused of worshipping her own pain, and I can see how I'm doing that to myself - trying to build my misery into a shining throne from which I can judge others and put my own ego on a pedestal.

I know the reasonable words but I don't feel them. Even when I say them to others, I'm just throwing out the buzzwords in an effort to maintain this facade of an intelligent and hard done by innocent, to somehow absolve myself of any responsibility for my own failures and weaknesses.

I wonder when it will end, and how it will feel to pay penance for the lies I tell myself.

S.

Procrastination and personality and problems.

Currently at med school we're learning about the brain and it's multitude of roles and possible dysfunctions. Obviously, I am drawn to diagnosing myself with every new disorder I learn, even though I know I don't have it.

Knowing alone isn't enough to rest your worries, though.

I'm not quite sure how you learn or teach someone else to go from worry to acceptance and calm. For example, people with OCD know that their thoughts and actions are not reasonable, but they are still compelled to continue with them. How do you tell your brain to switch off? How do you join the hard facts of knowledge with the feelings in the now and present?

One of my biggest struggles is with procrastination and stress - I know that they are neither productive nor fun, and yet I am forever in their mess. It's not like I don't know how to study, or that I should study. I just can't. And more to the point, don't.

Fixing this sort of chronic battle with myself is exhausting, and small steps take the longest of time. I know I am better today than I was 7 years ago, and that I will be better still in 7 years time, but that is a total of 14 years to get to where other people were at right at the beginning. Again, I know that comparing yourself to the average/others is unhelpful, that everyone has their own journey etc. etc. But I have no excuse for being the way I am now, except for laziness and lack of control over my own mind.

And I don't know how to fix it. There's no pill to fix a rubbish personality. I am responsible for chaos in my life, not some underlying illness or external monsters. I know this. But I don't feel it, because if I did I'd be changing it.

Maybe my problem is a disconnect from reality?

As I write this I am in the library, supposed to be studying for an upcoming test. I know that it will take me ages to get through the 6 weeks of examined material. And yet I'm on here, writing mediocre melodrama.

How.

Do.

I.

Make.

It.

Stop.

???

Peace and love,

S.

The questions that keep us up at night.

The heaviness and warmth of instant sleep - the perfect example of you don't know what you had till it's gone.

Keeping a stable and regular routine - just keeping up with life - is exhausting. Fitting in enough sleep is a struggle, and even more so when you can't turn off your consciousness. Here I will expound on some of the thoughts that keep me up at night. Often I think I am alone in my thoughts, but we are never as special as we think we are - millions before us and millions after have the same thoughts, and sharing them is a comfort in its own way. So here goes.

1. Where do tears come from? Does your body make them on demand? Or is there a reservoir full of tears, just waiting to me shed? Is this why you feel so heavy sometimes, like you haven't cried in a while and you really need to?

2. Why do we have feelings? Emotional feelings, I mean. How does this feeling take place? Where do feelings come from, and where do they go when you forget about them for a while? How do you make the connection between a good thing and a good feeling in yourself? Pain, hunger, etc is easy enough to comprehend, because it has evolutionary and survival value. But what about jealousy? How does your body make the connection with something so abstract?

3. What is a thought? How exactly are opinions and memories stored? I understand the parts of the brains involved and so on, but I don't get how something abstract is stored in a physical location. Kind of like typing on a keyboard and letters coming up on the screen. It's basically the sort of stuff that you can't explain to your grandparents.

4. Why do people feel the need to explain Australian-ness to me? Why do they feel the need to say, 'Well, I'm Australian and this is how/what we say/do?' When you raise the point with them they get very defensive about their racist tendencies, or their white privilege, but their actions are very hard to ignore.

5. Why do people feel the need to look at me, say sorry, and then continue to say something very racist? Does prefacing it with an apology absolve them of their sins? Basically, why are people so sh*t?

This took a downwards turn, so I might stop for a bit. As important as it is to express strong feelings, the majority of mine seem to be angry on a massive scale. I don't want my sense of self to be tied to this. Deep breath.

Peace and love,

S.

Seven Hundred and Eleven Words of Whinging.

I know I start a lot of my blog posts with the 'I meant to update earlier but somehow didn't' sentiment, and I have come to realise that this is just another manifestation of what is wrong with my life.

I make plans and lose track of where I'm going or what to do to get there.

But it's okay, because it's a new year, and therefore an opportunity for a new adventure.

Well, I say that, but what I actually mean is I'm getting tired of muddling along and not really getting anywhere.

In Freudian theory, discord between what you are and what you want to be gives rise to psychological and emotional problems, and once again, I am a textbook example of a common problem. Aged 14, I had grand plans to travel the world, marry Daniel Radcliffe (after he converted of his own accord, of course), go to an Oxbridge university, and just be an amazing person. I was going to be supreme empress of the universe and the world was going to be great place with no pollution and lots of dolphins.

Ten years later, life has worked out in a roundabout way so that I am at least studying medicine and living out of home, if not at Oxford or in Spain. I suppose 10 years isn't that long, in the scheme of things, to achieve a life goal, but I can't help feeling like I've been a very passive part of the process. I somehow forgot to make anything happen. I didn't study hard in undergrad to get into med (I don't think I ever really expected to get in, I just had this image of me leading Medicines Sans Frontier to save the world with an adoring crowd and massive posters of my face everywhere). I didn't do much extracurricular stuff to help my development. I didn't properly try to get into med, and there's no way I would have without the sincerest prayers of my grandparents.

Not that I'm not happy to be here - it hits me every now and again that one day I will have a solid understanding of something amazing. It's a privilege and an honour to be trusted with someone's health, and to have all of the resources and opportunities in the world at your fingertips.

But the idea of myself at 14, an activist and a humanitarian, has crumbled a bit in the intervening period. I haven't eradicated poverty or corruption or AIDs or cancer. I don't speak a million languages. I am not a leader (I'm less of a leader now than I was at my most passive moment in school). I haven't run a marathon. I don't have prize-winning paintings hanging in the Louvre. I haven't solved any of the great mysteries of the ancient world (sometimes I can't sleep because I don't understand how the pyramids were built). My writing isn't being used as teaching material in High Level IB English.

This discrepancy between what I was and wanted to be, and what I have turned out to be now - it's what holds me back from fixing my situation. I spend all of this time dreaming and reminiscing and saying 'I totally could have' and then I realise that I've just wasted another year I could have used wisely. It's a vicious loop and I know the reason I can't get out of it is because my ego is too big to accept that I failed, and to move on.

Of course, this is the perfect opportunity to learn humility. To accept and be happy about the fact that I can do my best and that my best is good enough. Instead, I make a half-assed, panicked attempt and then try to justify my failure by making excuses.

Finally writing about this instead of just whinging to friends is a lot more productive, and a relief. I can be more methodical and see where I'm just bullsh**ing. Once you pinpoint a problem you can focus on fixing it. From where I stand now, I need to quit complaining and start doing.

And with that note, I am off to write some world-class poetry on the subject of my angst.

Peace and love,

S.

Who Hurt You?

Dearest,

Who hurt you so badly
That you can't forgive?
What terrible deed
Did they inflict upon you
That you can't move on?

Did it mean so much
To you?
Did you care so much
For them?
Did your tears change
A thing?

No.
Water wears away at stone,
And so your tears
Will wear you 
Down.

And yet,
As you stand
And face them again,
The fierceness of your fire
And the strength of your
Dreams
Will 
Heal
You.


S.

Trust and other issues.

Over the past couple of years I have learned a lot about friendship, politics, loyalty, and most of all, about trust. I am passive, weak, naive and gullible, so of course my instincts are to trust anyone and everyone. Thankfully life has taught me some key lessons in this area. Except I'm afraid these lessons have turned me into a cynical disaggregate instead. I find myself second-guessing my relationships with people, the goodness I see in others, and ultimately, the goodness I myself should be showing.

The way you treat others is a massive reflection on how you think and the sort of person you are. When I told everyone that I would be doing Arts this year, a lot of people were really sceptical that this was the truth, and thought I was lying to cover up doing medicine or something. Yes, this is a reflection of how they think, that expecting others to lie just shows how they themselves would lie. But I think I'm turning into one of these people. In some ways, it is a step forward - I am starting to no longer take words at face value - but at the same time, I am losing something of myself, like, sort of innocence and good will. And if I'm secretly accusing people of being false, what does it say about me? Is it better to be naive and taken advantage of, or to be on par with the bigots and know their game?

Ultimately, if they're going to give me the evil eye or make my life harder or whatever, it is Allah's will. No burden is given without you having the strength to carry it. Every test and downfall and success and brightness in your life is an opportunity to learn, or to see for yourself how strong you are and where you need to improve. So that's not a problem.

But in insisting on being naive, am I making life harder for myself? And in anticipating people's greed and lies am I making my Hereafter harder for myself?

I have so many moments when I want to share something, some good in my life, or some thought, with someone else, only to remember that that person doesn't trust me, and lies to me - because really, if someone's lying to you about something, it really means that they don't trust you. And it's sad, knowing that the people who are closest to you think this, especially when you know you have never given them a reason to do so. 

People talk. It's what they do best, apart from judging. Everyone does it and if you say you don't you are lying to yourself. I'm going to give an example of how people use this knowledge and turn bad themselves, now. So in my family, all the aunts and uncles compete and show off and talk down about the achievements of others. When our ENTER scores came out, everyone wanted to know everything -and not in the genuinely curious way, but in this really sickeningly busy-body way. I, obviously, straight-out told everyone my marks - it was a miracle that I had passed, and I wasn't about to hide God's miracles. Other people weren't so keen on relating their marks/good news/success in something else/whatever, even though they were only making it harder for themselves by creating something for others to talk about and playing on their bus-body-ness. They kept going on about how other people talk even though they themselves talk just as much. I didn't realise the double-standards, as such, until very recently. You know when someone asks you for help and you do your utmost to help them and they go all coy and hide stuff and it's like um what. Why would you feel the need to lie to the one person who has kept every secret of yours and never lied to you about their own?

Anyway, after learning about this quality - in so many people it nearly makes me want to cry - I realised that those who are supposed to be closest to you will turn on you for no good reason. And I don't understand why. What it is that drives people to be so sh*tty? Like, I get it if you have to lie for a reason, but what is it with all of this? And why would you go on about how others have big mouths if yours is the biggest of all? Is it really that hard to see the truth? Why? I just don't get it. 

I mean, I understand accidentally doing stuff, or having reasons that might be hard for others to understand, but intentionally doing sh*t things, I just don't get it. And then going to these same people to whom you lie and whatever, and asking for their sympathy or friendship or help in something - it just beggars belief. I just don't get it. 

And this realisation of how awful people can be  - I don't like it, I wish I didn't know about it, and I really, really just don't get it. I don't know who trust and with what, and I don't understand what friendship and loyalty and family and brotherhood is anymore.

But one good thing has come of this: I read this  hadith or ayah from the Quran or something that says that Allah (swt) takes away everyone from the one who He wants to turn back to Him alone. And I think this is my sign. I feel alienated from the people around me because I've lost touch with my God. Good things happen when He is in my heart and on my mind, and it brings out the best in me and in others. I need to go back to my faith and thank God properly for all that is in my life.

Peace and love, 

S. 

Things I have learned from the people I have met.

In my third year of uni, I met a master manipulator - so much so that when I realised this and then saw said person again over a year later, I totally forgot anything I had deduced about their character other than the warm and bubbly person they presented themselves to be. Not that this person committed heinous crimes  - but they are really good at lying and that is the scariest quality of all. It's the smile of the psychopathic sweet-looking old lady. 

Carrying on with the manipulation scene, there were the many people who made my Honours' year the hell that it was. Of course I know that not all people are there to be my friends, but that doesn't mean that I'm only there to be used and then thrown away like an old doll.

I have also learned a fair bit about loyalty from the people I have had the pleasure (or otherwise) to know. One standout example is a girl I met in high school. Ergh. Lack of loyalty masked as 'being laid back'. And the lies! I am of the firm opinion that friendship is based on mutual respect and honesty, and accepting each other's flaws. Not lying, telling people they need to change, and setting yourself up as the golden standard. If someone is attacking you, you don't expect your friends to join them.

Then there are the people you are always trying to catch up with and keep up friendships, and they just don't care. Obviously sometimes life gets in the way and all, but after a point - especially when they're making the time to see other people going on about how they have nothing to do - you just want to give up. Then they message you and are cheery and friendly tell you how much they miss you, and all you can think of is a perfectly-worded insult that ends the friendship and causes maximal damage to the other person. But as an adult you can't function like that, especially if you want to be a decent person. You can't just cut the rubbish bits out of your life, unfortunately. People get catty and don't realise it's because they are so awful and not because you are a judgmental b*tch. And people are so good at believing the worst in people and being nasty about it, so if you're not adequately equipped in the snarky remarks and general doggishness department, you don't stand a chance.

At this point, I would like to thank the many loyal and lovely people in my life, the ones who make me a better person and who give me faith in humanity. But this post is mostly about the ones who don't.

My many good and bad experiences with people have also taught me soemthing about myself - I am too willing to think and bleieve well of people, I ignore people's faults until one day I explod and people think I'm just being petty, and I'm incredibly gullible. I also get really close to people really quickly, and I feel like I've found a kindred spirit, and then they disappoint me.

These experiences have also highlighted a flaw of mine character - I am passive and live too much in the moment without analysing the bigger picture until it is too late. But seeing as this is my flaw, I won't dwell on it too much.

This is by no means an exhaustive list of everyone I have met and everything I have learned. But I think it's enough of a start.

Peace and love,

S.

The middle-aged white man.

Don't read this if you are super sensitive or acutely opposed to statements of generalisation or susceptible to depression about the plight of the world.

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Any time in my life that I have expressed my (grandiose) dreams and plans for the future, the only person who has knocked me down is the middle-aged white man - not the proverbial person, but the actual.

In high school I had an English teacher who, in year 11, called me over to his desk during class and told me that I'm a very bright girl and I just need to keep up the good work and I'll get far. This went on for about 10 minutes. I in turn shared my dreams of studying at an Oxbridge university, whereby he laughed and said, "You can't do that!"

My orthodontist was also one of these. He asked me what I wanted to do and again, I shared the Oxbridge dream. He responded with several reasons why this might be unreasonable, including that the universities are tied to the Church, and given that I'm Muslim, how would I deal with that? Except, um, some of Oxford's most famous scholars include Benazir Bhutto (Muslim), Indira Gandhi (Hindu) and Stephen Hawking (atheist).

More recently, and what really triggered this post, was my Honour's supervisor. In our first meeting he asked me what I wanted to do with my life, and I told him I wanted to learn everything about everything, and he, predictably, responded with a derisive laugh and, "You can't do that!" Literally. And throughout the year he insisted on repeating his mantra of "You can't get full marks, you can never get full marks, it's never going to be perfect, you can never make it perfect". Um, DUH, if I've lost 2% in the first assignment I'm obviously not going to get 100% at the end of the year. And why can't I make it perfect? Just because it's hard doesn't mean it's impossible, or that I shouldn't try.

Clearly, the middle-aged white man, as characterised above, is the bane of our success, the killer of our dreams and just plain mean. (Apart from all the really awesome middle-aged white men, obviously cf. Ian Hislop, Paul Merton, Jon Stuart, Norm Eizenberg, etc. etc.). 

Peace and love,

S.

You know when you find out that someone smokes and you just think "EWW"? Smoking is stupid and gross. Stupid people do stupid things, and gross people do gross things, and smokers are both of these things together. Sadface.

Success.

See, the thing I have learnt is that success comes to people who snatch candy from babies and then blame it on the puppy - essentially, people who are not nice.

So why am I not successful? I'm not nice. I'm as not-nice as can be. So what's the matter?

I'll tell you what - it's because I'm passive. I am the puppy who cops the flack in the above mentioned metaphor. I have the thoughts and plans and then I fail to execute. If I were the hangman I'd have been relegated to putting down the straw and feeding the pigs. 


You have to be willing to take success, in whatever form, from whoever has it. You can't just sit around waiting. People don't hand things to you, even if it's their job. 


So, boldly and beyond!

...Once I get some sleep.


Peace and love,

S.

Blood boiling.

Sometimes, people make me really angry.

Okay, I know what you're thinking - "Did you just say SOMETIMES? Because it seems like you're ALWAYS angry!"


Allow me to correct you. People OFTEN annoy me. They don't always make my blood boil. Apart from Honours and the people involved in that year, and what I am about to divulge, and crimes against humanity, I can't really think of anything that makes my blood boil. I'm not perpetually angry, I'm just constantly annoyed because people don't shut up. Seriously, if people could zip it every now and again, half of the world's problems would be gone, with the other half being stupidity. 

So. Now that's cleared up, I will discuss the other thing that makes my blood boil on a fairly regular basis.


I am the eldest of five siblings. After myself, there are two girls, and then two boys. The boys are great (totes love the youngest), and I would count the middle sister as one of my best friends. But the youngest sister? You can't imagine how many times I've asked God to give me strength, because I swear I will end up stabbing her one day.


How many times do you have to keep extending the hand of friendship? How consistently nice do you have to be someone before they learn to be a little considerate? Today, as has been the case for the last week or so, she has been literally yelling at the parentals because she wants a cat. She has found a list of reasons online - having pets helps with depression, fitness, etc. But how can she care for another animal if she's incapable of keeping her own space clean and smell-free? Last year was only her first year at uni and she not only failed SEVERAL units, she also missed the sub-exams because as usual, she was up all night watching dvds and then slept in.


That's another thing. She's always complaining that she has no clothes, and every time there's a wedding or event we have to lend her ours, and then she spends all of her money on useless crap. She complains that no one takes her shopping but when we do she wanders off for hours looking at comic books and dvds and stuff she doesn't need. 

And then she complains about being broke. GOD!


It'd be okay if she kept it all to herself, but no, she has to scream and yell and bully until she gets her own way. She has no concept of responsibility or consideration. She literally stomps when she's walking around the house. In the middle of the night, a loud banging noise wakes you up, and that's her stomping and banging her way to the toilet, like opening doors violently makes her cool or important.


So basically, what makes my blood boil - apart from the mess, the things that go missing and turn up in her room, the lack of contribution to chores, being an inconsiderate *****, distracting the boys from homework and sleep and bullying and bribing them, the fact that she can't share or do a favour for someone without extorting something massive from them - is the fact that she doesn't shut up. 


This in turn is basically what annoys me about other people. If you're not invited into a conversation, why butt in? If you want to say something, why do you have to yell? If someone says no, why can't you zip your mouth? Why do you have to yell? And most of all, why can't you leave me alone?


I'm having trouble explaining what she's like and why it makes my blood boil. You'd have to live with her for a day, an hour, anything. 


I have, for the most part, controlled myself. Sometimes I swear and sometimes I sing loudly and in a high pitch to drown her out. But I'm pretty sure that one day I will stab and burn her. And I won't regret it.

And here's a bit of contrast:

Peace and love,

S.

I just pulled out my 10 year old brother's wobbly tooth.

I am majorly badass.