You Are Here

The human mind is such a peculiar thing. It stores so many different things, from the most useful to the most useless; from memories to facts to just absolute garbage that no one needs.

The question I ask you today is, if you had the chance to wipe away the contents of your brain, would you? The good will go along with the bad, no choice to pick and choose what goes and what stays; everything must go.

Would you take that risk, wipe out everything you've ever known, everything you've ever enjoyed, things that brought you joy at one point or another?

Thinking about an answer to this question seems like a good exercise to remind yourself of all the things that are, or have been, good in your life. If there was even one moment, just one, that you wouldn't want to wipe out, then you know there is at least one thing that was good to you.

Too often we tend to focus on the negatives, on things that might be wrong in our lives; I know I do. It's very easy to do it too, and someone very close to me said this to me, that it's easy to do so because it's always easier to blame the situation.

Always easier to blame someone else, blame everyone but yourself.

Why can we not look at the situation, assess it, and figure out a way to let go of the negativity? Is it because we've done it for so long now that this is what's familiar to us, this negativity that we've harbored within us?

Is the toxicity such a big part of us that this is what's normal?

I thought about this question a lot, and it made me realize that despite everything seeming so bleak, so useless, there have been moments in my life that I hold very dear to me.

These seemingly insignificant moments that are still etched in my brain, stowed away in a quiet, not-visited-very-often part of my brain.

I know myself enough to know that things that once brought me joy no longer do so; I know this and I understand this. However, if I rummage through my brain, and really look, I know I can go through all the memories and still relive those moments where those things did bring me joy.

Depression is never easy; it is terrible, and it sucks. It is difficult, and some days not even worth fighting it out. And that's okay. It's okay to not fight it out, as long as you don't give up for forever.

As long as you remember those quiet, hidden moments where you did experience genuine happiness. As long as you remember that you are still alive, still breathing, still here for a reason, whatever that may be.

You matter. <3

I Am Alive

It is said that writing things out, or talking about them, usually help. That writing down your feelings and thoughts feel like a weight being lifted off; but you know what? Writing doesn't always work that way, at least not for me.

When I write, things get out of my head and onto the paper, but as soon as those things are out, new thoughts and feelings start to take their place; in this way, I'm never truly empty. There's always something to feel, always something to think about.

Sometimes, when you really want some peace and quiet, this can be a terrible thing, because there really is no peace and quiet, there is no escape.

These past few months have been some of the toughest in my short life. The depression reared its grotesque, ugly head, and bit by bit, it entirely took over; there was no part of me that was spared.

It had been truly years since it was this bad, and because it had been so long, I'd completely forgotten how to fight it. That's why I didn't fight it; I didn't bother with it, I didn't have any fight left in me.

So I just laid there. I laid there, until it got to the point where it was hard to discern when the days changed into nights, the nights into days. I just knew I couldn't move, I couldn't do anything, except pathetically cry into my duvet; that's all I did.

I did absolutely nothing, and I felt nothing.

Well, that's not really fair, because I did feel something, just one thing: I felt hollow. I felt empty. There was nothing left in me, even as I scarped the bottom of the barrel that were my emotions.

I couldn't face anybody without breaking down in tears, I was that bad. I was constantly excusing myself, turning away from people so that they wouldn't see my eyes fill-up with unwanted, unnecessary tears.

There came multiple points where even my tears would run out. Even my own tears abandoned me, that's how pathetic I was. Even my own tears didn't want to be around me.

Nothing brought me joy anymore. Everything I did felt meaningless, like I was just going through the motion of doing it just because that was what I was supposed to do.

I stopped eating, I stopped showering, and if it was up to me, I would've very happily stopped existing too. Nobody should ever have to feel this way, so why did I have to? I could make it stop, I could make it go away.

My head told me nobody would remember me anyway, so why not?

Even though I was completely gripped by depression and depressive thoughts, I guess there was still some fight left in me, because even though I thought I had nothing to give, I still fought for months.

I fought, because for months I never let the suicidal thoughts get to me; I never let them come into my head, and if they did, I did my best to pay zero attention to them.

I always told myself that no, it wasn't that bad yet, that it didn't have to come down to this.

Until one day, after keeping everything inside me for about two months, without having any kind of an emotional reaction to everything, I finally broke down. Boy, did I break down.

I remember crying, unable to stop, even though I couldn't breathe. There was just too much inside, and it had burst at the seams, finally spilling out so much that try as I might, I couldn't secure it back up. There was too much, and I couldn't stop it; it had nowhere else to go but to just come spiraling out.

That was when the first unwelcome thought hit, and that's when I knew it was bad. It was going to be bad, and even in that state, I tried to prepare myself to stop it from happening; I clenched my fists, even as my hands shook.

It is truly amazing and equally horrifying to know what your mind is capable of. It is terrifying to know just how much your mind can have a hold over you, over your entire life. A single thought can mean the difference between living and dying.

It's true when it is said that you don't know how strong you are until being strong is your only choice. It's true because I am still here, I am still alive to be writing this post. I am strong after all, and as much as I want to believe otherwise, I know now that this is the truth.

I made one promise, just one, years ago, to stop self-harm. I made this promise to someone very dear to me, and I'm very proud to report that despite all the close calls over the years, I've kept my promise still.

Even though I know it is an addiction; I know I am terribly addicted to that peace, that quiet that comes with self-harm. It doesn't last very long, but it still brings peace, no matter how little.

But even though that peace, that quiet, that contentment is something that I terribly crave, I've somehow always known that it's not worth it. I know what broken promises mean, and I know what pain they can bring with them.

That one measly promise is what has kept me from doing it all these years.

Obviously I'm not okay still, and I don't think I ever will be, not completely; but the fact that I am still here means something, no matter how little. I am still here, I am still alive, and I am still breathing.

Slowly but surely, I'm picking up the broken pieces from all these months, and I'm starting all over again; I'm building myself up again, piece by piece.

I realize I've done this exact same thing countless times, but you know what? As long as I keep doing this, again and again, without ever making that final decision, I am still here.

I am still alive. And sometimes, that is more than enough.

Too damn true.

Happy|| Part I

Hello, lovelies!
I hope your week's been great so far, and your last weekend even greater than that. This next weekend is just around the corner too, so that's something to keep you going.

This post is going to be split into different parts, so this post is the first part of the story. The posts are going to be numbered, so it'll be easier for you to go in a chronological order, should you want to read all of them.

The last post was a bit of a downer, but I guess it was necessary too; it was only the truth after all. Life isn't always made of happy and positive moments, and while there may always be a lesson to be learned, the lesson isn't always learned that easily.

But anyway, this post is different than that; this post is about one of the happiest memories that I formed recently, something that was an extremely welcome change in comparison to the extreme depression that I'd been going through for quite some time now. It's been difficult recently, to say the least.

So remember how I spoke about wanting to get out, to have a break, and to fight the right battles? I'll have you know, that I pushed and fought with my family to get this break, and lo and behold, I finally got it; though, mind you, this wasn't as effective in getting me back into the workflow as I thought it would be, but more on that later.

To be honest, though, I wasn't even sure that we were going to go, as the day we'd booked our flight for was already here (last Thursday), and we still hadn't received the entry visas for us; when I say we, by the way, I mean myself, my sister, and my father.

So I was 90% sure that we weren't going to go after all, because it was a bit too late, but seeing my sister's extremely reckless optimism, I had a 10% part of me that was still hopeful.

You see, my sister was practicing such reckless optimism, she had already packed all our bags the night before, and left only the hand-carry luggage to be packed once the visas were confirmed.

Her retort to my extremely sarcastic and cynical comment on her over-efficiency was just this: you will see we will go, and this will save us from the eternal panic of last minute packing. I laughed at her then but in hindsight, it was what made be hopeful as well.

Thursday rolled around, and I attended my classes as I normally would; I was hopeful about getting the confirmation message from my dad, but because I'd rather be surprised than be disappointed, I tried my best to quell the 10% hope in me, that had begun to die down anyway as the day went on and there was still no sign of a confirmation from my dad.

It happened as I was on the way back from the university: a single Whatsapp message from my dad, as I waited at the immigration window (Bahrain-Saudi causeway ftw), which simply said: "visas received".

Nobody can imagine my happiness at that very exact moment, and I don't think I'll ever forget that feeling of pure and utter happiness in my entire life; pretty safe to say that I hadn't felt happiness this pure in a long, long, long while.

After a very long time, my hopes had not been crushed, but were granted instead; after a very long time, it had been worth it to keep my hopes up, no matter for how small of a thing it was. I was extremely grateful.

My happiness knew no bounds; I got home, and I got straight into the shower, too excited to waste another second, and I didn't want us to be late, least of all because of me. So I took the quickest shower of my life, and I got out and collected all my remaining things to be packed up.

My sister, I don't think, has ever looked so damn smug in her entire life, as she did in that moment. I, very obviously, rolled my eyes at her, but even I couldn't help smiling at her triumphantly; it was a victory not only for her, but even more so for me.

Long story short, we eventually made it to the airport, barely made it in time; we were the last passengers of our flight to check in, and I can not stress enough just how relieved I was once we'd passed the final security check.

We'd finally made it, and it was all going to be alright, regardless of my extreme flying/height anxiety, one of the many forms of anxiety I suffer with on the regular. We were going on a holiday, albeit an extremely short one, but we were going all the same, and I was getting the break that I'd so desperately wanted; it was all good.

We arrived at our destination, the beautiful and ever diverse Dubai, and everywhere I looked, I saw the change and freedom, and I saw a world totally different than the one I've been living in. Worth it to mention here that this wasn't my first trip in the country, but it might as well have been because I'm pretty sure I've never been this happy to be in the U.A.E.

[To be continued...]
I will continue this post into however many parts I decide to split it into; please be patient with me, as I don't really know when I'll post the other parts, but I sincerely hope I do justice to what really are the most wonderful memories I've created in a long, long time.

Thank you!

xoxo,
Hera.

Strength & Courage

Hello, lovelies!
I hope your weekend has been good, and I hope you're all ready to kick some Monday butt tomorrow. I myself have been down with the flu this past week, which has been a pretty deadly combination, mixed with midterms and stress. But now I'm on a week-long break, and slowly but surely on my way to perfect health.

Due to being down with the flu, I've been more broody and lower than usual. I've wanted more attention, and any lack of it has ended up with me in tears. It's been weird, I know. But all of this sickness and free has given me time to do some thinking about things, and to do a bit of self-reflection too.

I used to think it was my strength to say I don't want to do something, yet end up doing it anyway. I thought it was something to be so proud of that wow, look at my sheer strength, my willpower, that I don't want to do something, something my brain and my heart are refusing to do so, and yet, I can go ahead with it anyway. Today for the first time in many years, I realized that I was wrong.

It wasn't strength to force my heart and brain into doing what neither they nor I wanted to do; it wasn't strength that I tricked them and myself into it. It was the beginning of lies, it was the loss of trust. I lied and lied and lied to myself, I tricked myself, again and again, I betrayed myself again and again. It was and still is all lies; there's nothing to be proud of every time I lie to myself.

My heart and brain no longer know what to believe. How could they, when for years I taught them one thing, told them one thing over and over again, only to do a complete 360 and derail the tracks so horrendously, that not only am I lost myself, but so is my heart and mind?

It isn't something to be proud of when you give up on yourself; it isn't something to be proud of when you give up on your dream. There's nothing strong about lying to yourself, just as there's nothing strong about giving up on your dream and passion and doing something else just because you were told you'd never be able to "make a living" out of doing something that you love.

Strength and courage are in doing what you love. Strength and courage are in following your dream, no matter what anyone says; strength and courage are having such undying faith in you, yourself, and your capability, that you pursue it unashamedly. Strength and courage are in daring to be yourself when everybody is telling you you'll never make it in the world by being yourself.

There's this great Bollywood movie, Tamasha. It's one of my absolute favourite movies (Bollywood junkie here) because it resonates on such a deep level with me. What a great narration of the kind of world we live in today; how many dreams are left unfulfilled, for the sake of responsibilities, for the sake of fulfilling others' dreams and wishes?

How many people are reminded of their uniqueness, their specialty, on a daily basis? And how many people, in comparison, are instead reminded about their failures, things they've done wrong, things they've not achieved?

We're not all the same, we never were; then why are we so vehemently drilled to be average, to be just like everybody else? Why is it just so goddamn important to fit in? Why can't we just be?

If you're doing something you absolutely love and enjoy today, be proud of yourself. If you love your job, you work, that you're doing today, then be proud of yourself. In a world where everybody is somebody else, if you have the courage to be unashamedly yourself, then be proud of yourself.

Everybody is unique, yes, and everybody has their own qualities, but not everybody has the strength and courage to embrace their uniqueness and to show the world who they really are.

Of course, everybody has responsibilities, duties, and I'm not saying we should ignore them; not at all. I understand a certain amount of luck is also involved in the ease of being yourself; but my point is, even if you're short on this luck, even if you're swamped with responsibilities and duties, even then, you shouldn't lose sight of who you really are, who you really want to be.

There's no other person exactly like you, right? Then why should you give up, forget, and lose sight of who you really are?

Doesn't hurt to try, right?

Love Yourself

Hello, lovelies!

I hope your week, and the weekend so far has been amazing. Even if it hasn't, just hold on until the end of this week; you can always make the next week a better one, right?

I myself have not had the best of days today; just one of those days where you feel empty and pointless. It's actually been a weird day; one of those where I'm physically present in the moment but not mentally.

Recently, the fact that there are only a few more months left until I'm done with my Bachelors and university, for good, has really hit home, and the looming uncertainty of the future is just really unsettling and daunting. I thought I was always sure of what I wanted, but now I feel like I'm not sure at all. I don't know whether what I want to do will stick with me if I apply for Masters in this.

I've had people tell me that I don't need to do a Masters related to writing to validate my interest/passion of it, and I guess that's one of the reasons that's putting doubt in my mind about whether I'll be able to do it or not. What if it also turns out to be like my Bachelors, and I start resenting what I once loved?

I don't ever want to resent something I've loved my entire life; I never want to hate or doubt something I've always been so sure about. But I am doubting it. I am doubting myself, my ability, my love for it. I was mostly confident about my writing ability since the beginning, but now, I'm not so sure. What if I'm not good enough? What if I'm just delusional, and I've never been as good as I've always thought I am?

I really do want to do my Masters in something I've always loved; I wanted to do my Bachelors in it too, but I didn't get the chance to. What if that was a sign, what if it was God saving me from heartbreak from the realization of not being good enough? What if I'm not good at anything at all?

Now, I know these doubts are only existing because I'm allowing them to. I know all the things about how I shouldn't let any of this cloud my mind, yada yada, but the trouble is, all these things are easier said than done; what are you supposed to do when your own mind is your worst enemy, which let's be honest, is the case most of the time?

However, thinking about all of this is just reenforcing what I've always said, always thought of; you always, always need to make yourself be the strongest you can be. Fight your own worst enemy, be it your mind, or anything at all really; because at the very end of the day, no matter how many people validate you, your brain, or your importance, at the end of the day, you, and only you, can ever really save and fix yourself.

Sure, it's difficult, and it's easier said than done to ever really strengthen yourself against your own mind, but whoever said anything worth having would be easy? That's right, nobody. It's not easy, but nothing good ever is; I don't think we'd ever appreciate the importance of anything, were it so easy to obtain.

Right now, I'm not strong enough, because I'm letting all these things cloud my mind; I'm letting my emotions, my brain, control me, instead of the other way around. But being aware of it is a good thing, right? It means I can fix it, I can work on it; I don't particularly know if I will, but I at least know I always have the choice and the option to work on it.

It's funny how it's always easier to be there for others, to always be their support system, validate their good qualities, help them tone down the self-hate for their flaws, and how terribly difficult it is to be that support system, that good person (gender neutral pronouns ftw!) for your own self.

I wonder why that is; is it possibly because we're always taught, as kids, to always be kind to others, but we're never told or taught, even once, to always be kind to ourselves too? Or is it because it's always easier to talk yourself down, to hate?

Is it because it's always easier to hate than it is to love? Why is it always so difficult to love yourself, but always, always so damn easy to doubt yourself, to hate yourself so vehemently?

What makes us think, as human beings, that other people deserve to be loved, to be showered with undying affection, but that we don't deserve the same from others, much less our ownselves? How are we supposed to defend ourselves from people that hate on us, when instead of showing them why they're wrong, we just agree with everything they say? I know I'm personally guilty of doing this exact thing.

I say let's stand up to and for ourselves. Learn to value ourselves, learn our own value; not by being validated by others, but by looking into our own selves. Less hate, more love. They say that the world these days needs more love and less hate; let's make this true not only towards other people, but towards ourselves too.

Realize that others' success and happiness does not mean it has to be compared with yours; after all, every person is different. Everybody has different definitions of what makes them happy, of what they consider to be successful; maybe what you see as extreme happiness in a person is only a mask they wear, so that nobody would ever question them.

You never know what a person is going through; be kind to everyone always. However, you know what you're going through; learn to be kind to yourself too, because just like other people deserve your kindness, so do you. Spread self-love, and believe in yourself and in your abilities. It's not easy, but you only ever need to take the first step towards it to get started; the rest will, one day, be history.

Look past the hate. <3

Penny For Your Thoughts

*Disclaimer: All the opinions expressed in this post are mine and mine only. Also, if you are easily offended by anything remotely feminist, or of equality for women, or quite simply if you're a menist or a feminazi, I highly suggest, and mildly request, you stop reading right here. Thank you.*

Hello, lovelies!

I hope your day and your week so far has been absolutely smashing. And if it hasn't been either of those, don't worry; there's still a while to go before the week ends. Keep your chin up, keep holding on, and you will make it no matter what, I'm sure; I believe you will.

My week so far has been a rollercoaster of emotions; then again, I suppose my entire life is one never-ending rollercoaster of emotions. Worth it to mention, I hate rides, and I hate rollercoasters.

But anyway, I digress. My emotions have certainly been all over the place, but I've been talking so much more to my best friend than ever before, so that is one of the good things from this week so far; God knows how drastically I've cut back on social interactions with not only new people and acquaintances, but also with the people I've known for years. Lord knows how much I need to change that.

I've also had to write this extremely long, stuffy research report for one of my classes, and it was through that dragged out, painful research and writing session, that I noticed this one thing; it is going to be the main focus of this post, but we'll get to that in just a bit. Hold on tight if you've read this far down after the disclaimer.

Another good thing from this week has been me achieving another bravery badge on my personal imaginary (possibly crazy?) badge board. About two weeks ago, I willingly volunteered for my name to be put down for this thing that was to happen at university; a meeting with the Higher Education Council (H.E.C) for the accreditation of our university.

They needed names of the people who wouldn't mind being "interviewed", and in a spontaneous burst of bravery, I said sure, why not, I don't mind; put me down as one of those people, please.

So, today we had that meeting. I sat in a room with other people who'd volunteered, and the two members of the H.E.C, and I miraculously did not back out, or stay stuck in my shell, no; I spoke up, and I did so confidently. In my three, soon to be four, years of university, if there's one thing I've learned, it is to fake it till you make it.

The art of bluffing is something I've learned from having a complete personality change since I started university, and I don't know if that's a good thing or bad, but hey, at least I've learned something possibly useful, right?

Apart from this being a personal achievement, it kind of also is a collective achievement, because hopefully when (not if) we get accredited, I will not be the only one benefitting from it; the students coming in after we graduate will also benefit immensely from it.

Someone once made me realize the extreme importance of doing something that not only benefits you but also the people that come in after you; it's been another lesson that I've learned through university. (Thanks, Mr.P!) It genuinely felt good leaving that room, knowing that I've contributed to the betterment of the university, and benefit of other students.

Now, while these things have been feel-good kind of things, there was something else that stuck out, and I'm not sure if it's a good thing at all; my instinct tells me it's not, but I think it can be fixed still. The realization of these things is what compelled me to write this blog post, and I think if we talk about it enough, everybody will definitely be compelled to at least think about it too.

While I was writing my report, I realized, with quite the shock, how much the word "mankind" is used. I realized this as I myself was going to, very casually, write the same word while talking about the history of art and design (trust me, it only sounds interesting. Try writing a 13-page report, and then we'll talk).

The funny thing is, once I realized the enormity of the situation, it was so pathetically difficult to find the right word as a substitute to "mankind". How do you change something whose roots are set so deep into history? Anything I wrote as a substitute just felt wrong, felt out of place; whatever I wrote felt extremely off.

Moving onto today, in the meeting room, while sitting with the other volunteers, and these are all highly educated women, I was shocked, again, by how much the word and pronouns of a male are used and sprinkled throughout our everyday lives; the number of times the students used the pronoun he/him while talking about our professors was astounding to me.

Our university is not limited to just male teachers, we have countless female teachers teaching us in our university; our university aims to empower women, and it was saddening for me to see all these educated, smart women completely gloss over and forget our female professors by forgetting to use the correct pronouns.

I know many of you reading this will probably be thinking so what's the big deal, it's just a measly little pronoun; but that, right there, is where the problem lies. It is a bigger deal than it is made out to be. This isn't just about pronouns; it's about the deep-rooted sense of inferiority of women, the unspoken, underlying implication that men are always more important, higher rated than women.

It's not any one person's fault; as can be seen from my example above, this is something that's been written in history, deeply embedded in it. This post isn't about bashing men and their privileges, even though yes, they do have the upper hand; no, this post is meant to be much more deeper than that.

It's not only the men thinking they're entitled to superiority in everything they do; it is also the women like my fellow students, highly educated, smart, intelligent women, choosing to use males as examples, because it is easier to say "he" than it is to say "she". It is easier to group humans into "mankind", into "the evolution of man", than it is to use the words "human kind".

Are we really divided just because of our genders? When will it be the norm to use gender-neutral pronouns, to remove any and all kinds of inferiority and superiority complexes? Is it really that unchangeable? Will it really take the same amount of time to undo this notion of "mankind" as it took to root and embed it?

My hope and wish, for you, the reader, to take away from this post, is this: Think about it. Really think. Do you wish to live in a world where you will raise your daughters and sons to think exactly like the people did all those years ago?

Or would you want to show them change, a better change, to show them that yes, we as human beings, are not stagnant creatures and that we have evolved and changed over time? Wouldn't you want to tell them that it's okay for them to change; show them that you are capable of embracing change, and so are they?

Think about it with all your mind and heart. You decide what kind of world you want, and then you get to work and help build that world. You are the master of not only your own world and fate, but also of the entire world and your future families; think and build wisely.

It affects us all.

Better Than You Think

Hello, lovelies!

I hope your day is going swell (Does anybody even use that phrase anymore? I don't know. I'm old. Don't judge.). I hope life is treating you kindly, and so are the people around you. Everybody deserves to be treated kindly, right? Treat others how you'd want to be treated and all.

So a thought struck me yesterday, and I thought maybe I could share it here. You know how they say that if you dress good, you feel good? Well I thought about it, and this random thought popped into my head, and I have to admit, it bothered me quite a lot; it bothered me enough that it kept me company all the way to university.

While that saying is well and good, I wondered, what if you didn't even want to look good? What if you were that done with everything, that you couldn't even be bothered to make an effort, much less look good? What if you couldn't even get out of the bed? What if it was just one of those difficult days?

Well, if you're anything like me, and makeup is a part of your daily routine, then it doesn't matter much; I tend to get pulled into putting on makeup anyway, because I have grown so accustomed to it now, that without makeup, I look pale and sickly, my (designer) under eye bags that much more prominent. So there really is no "off" day for people like us, because unless it's an extremely, extremely dire situation, only then do I not bother with putting on makeup.

This got me thinking: according to this "theory", it must mean that if we have even one good early morning ritual, be it having a good breakfast, taking a shower with your favourite soap or shampoo, or putting on makeup, then there is something worth getting out of that bed.

As I said, for me, it's the thought of how much better I look and feel when I put makeup on every morning; it is the knowledge that this beautification process, is not for anyone but me. I put on makeup for myself because it makes me feel good, it makes me feel less gloomy and less cranky than I would be if I didn't take out time every morning to do my light makeup.

Yes, my early morning makeup routine makes me feel empowered, it makes me feel more alive, and more ready to take on the day. It doesn't matter to me whether I look good or not; what matters to me, every single morning is that such a simple act, can get me to get out of the bed, specifically on days where I really, really, really don't want to.

I guess my point is, find something, anything at all, no matter how big or small, significant or insignificant, that makes you get out of your bed. Make this reason be a reason for you, and only you; it shouldn't be for anyone's benefit but your own. Who cares that it might seem weird to somebody else in the world? If it works for you, then go for it, by all means.

Because at the end of the day, after you've exhausted yourself trying to win over complete strangers and friends and family alike, after you've cared the whole day about what others think, at the end of it all, you can be assured, that in all the craziness and meaninglessness of the day, there was one tiny thing that you did for yourself.

No approvals, no strings, no anxiety; you did it for yourself, and no one else, and so, no one can ever take that feeling and knowledge away from you. Because for those fleeting few seconds of early morning (this has no number of time attached to it, btw), you were your own person.

Each day, for even a little while, you lived for yourself, without any boundaries whatsoever. Embrace that feeling. Welcome it. And see how much more willing you are to get out of bed every morning.

Yes, you most definitely are. <3

Celebrating Inspirations

*Edit: I decided to add this song after it came up on my iTunes playlist. This is mine and my best friend's song; don't ask why.*

Hello, lovelies!

I really do apologize about the inconsistency of this blog; I don't want to write something that doesn't come from an honest place, and these days, it takes time for inspiration to strike up.

Anyway, this post is to celebrate the fact that we, as people, are capable of so many different things; each of us can do so much, and so many different people have achieved so much. This post is inspired by my best friend being such a kickass, talented, and intelligent person.

She doesn't think so just because she lacks sometimes, but I want her to know that it's okay to lack; it's only human nature because no one in this entire world is perfect all the time.

So this person right, her name is Mashal, and she is this amazing, inspiring person, who has always pushed me to do more, to live up to what she says are my strengths and capabilities. Those are only the things she's done for me; for her own self, she has achieved so much in her life, that I am always in awe of her.

She inspires me to be better and to be proud of what I have achieved in all these years. I've known her since high school/college, depending on where you're from, and she's been my best friend and support system since that very first day of school.

We have this inside joke about being "bffs forever", and when she reads this, and I know she will, she will understand, and hopefully laugh about it. She is someone who has been one of the constants in my life.

She was always extremely smart, and she always blew my mind over just how strong she is, and how strong her morals are. (I know they're not exactly the same now, but that's alright. Not that big a change anyway.) She knows the value of pi, I forget up to how many decimals (Sorry Lou), but isn't that so freaking amazing? She's always been proud of that fact, and so am I.

My best friend is strong, fierce, independent, intelligent, and beyond kind. She's currently living quite far away from me, and I guess it's true that absence makes the heart grow fonder, because she and I both know I would never, ever say this to her face; well, maybe if she was upset and I was trying to cheer her up, or if I was feeling particularly emotional that day.

It amazes me that we, as people, can do so much if we put our minds to it; we can achieve so much, not only in studies but also our social lives. I spoke to Mashal a few days ago, to tell her that I am proud of her, and she reminded me to be proud of myself too, because just as she has achieved things in her life, so have I.

Her success does not mean that I can't celebrate mine; her success does not mean my milestones and achievements are any less than hers.

I never thought I would get through uni; I never thought I'd have enough courage and strength to keep doing something I'm not really interested in. But the fact of the matter is, I did get through it; with only a few months left to graduation, I have pretty much survived this seemingly endless ordeal.

I didn't quit halfway through like I was so sure I would; I didn't slack off in the name of not having any interest in what I was doing; I worked hard, and I tried my hardest never to let my grades slide, and they never did.

My sister always told me, people's grades go downhill after their first year of uni; however, with me, it has been the complete opposite. I started off terribly, but touch wood, I've been pretty amazing since the first year. I haven't let myself slack at any point in my university years, and I've tried my hardest, despite having zero interest and being sure that I was most likely going to quit, and give up any and every time.

It has been difficult, every step of the way, but I was, and have been, lucky to have family, friends, and even some teachers (personal shoutout to Dr.Anna, Dr.Marva, Dr. Mitra, and last but most definitely not the least, Mr.Parsa-- thank you for everything), who saw me for the person I really am underneath the protective shell, and they acknowledged the fact that I simply am suited for different things.

They believed in me, and understood my patience, and they never, ever made me feel useless, which, unfortunately, I didn't need anybody else's help in, because I was making myself believe that I am pretty damn useless anyway.

I have been lucky enough to have people around me like Mashal, who have, at one point or another, pushed me to my limits, or simply told me how proud they are of me; they don't know it yet, but sometimes, those little words and gestures were what kept me going through the day, made me get up and out of the bed in the morning, and gave me enough strength to go and face the day head-on, regardless of what happened around, and within me.

I never got the chance to thank them all, but now I do; I am not only thanking them, but also celebrating their diversity, the capability of their brain, their intellect. I am not only supporting and celebrating my best friend, but also reminding not only her but also myself, that while every person is different, every person is still important; every person is to be celebrated for their good and their strengths, instead of being torn down for what they are not, or for what they might lack.

So this post is dedicated not only to my best friend, Mashal Waqar, but it is also dedicated to my family, my friends, my professors; it is also dedicated to me. Thank you all for being a part of my support system, and thank you all for inspiring me by being you; thank you all for holding me up, and thank you all for never kicking me when I was down. May I always be able to do the same for all of you.

Lastly, I thank myself, for always being patient, and getting through every day, no matter the mood or the weather; for refusing to give up, and for fighting through "just one more day. Just one more, and we'll see what happens". Maybe one day I can come back to this post, and maybe, just maybe, this will be the sign I'll need to go on.

Our song! :D <3

Never.<3

Mid-Semester Depression & Other Thoughts

It's that time of the year again.

Technically, this is one of the two times, since it's two semesters, but you get the point. It's halfway through the semester, & unfortunately, things have begun falling apart. It's not as dramatic this time around, thankfully, but it is what it is. I guess that's just because it's at the initial stage, but the fact that I can, & have identified it already, before it has had the chance to get out of hand, probably means that if I act smartly, I can probably overcome it, or at the very least, I can at least control it somewhat.

It gets rather difficult at times, though, to see even a little glimpse of the light at the end of the tunnel or the slight sliver of a silver lining in a day. Sometimes, it takes over everything, every part of my day, even if there is nothing wrong. That's what's the most frustrating & upsetting part of this entire ordeal: having no real reason or an answer, when people ask what's wrong or what's upsetting you. How do you tell someone there is nothing wrong, & yet, everything still is? How do you explain yourself without sounding like a complete nutjob?

People often assume you're just being dramatic, or worrying for no reason & that's exactly what's so frustrating about it. Why would anyone willingly want to worry themselves sick? To get attention? To have the limelight? Why?

If you answered no to any of those questions, or thought to yourself, "no, wait, why would they go to such ridiculous lengths just for attention?", that's exactly the point. 

Nobody likes to be a worrier. Nobody would willingly want to suffer from crippling anxiety & depression just for fun. Because anybody who has had any experience with either of those things, will tell you, perhaps rather desperately, that it's anything but fun. It's not fun to have to miss out on experiences because you're too anxious, too afraid. It's not fun to sit smack in the middle of a considerable amount of people, & still feel anxious & unsure of yourself. And it sure as hell isn't fun to feel anxious about trying to explain yourself to people, to your friends & family, all about why you just can't do something because you have this god awful feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach, no matter how much you try to ignore it. Spot the irony in that sentence?

Coming back to the point, at this stage in the semester, it hasn't gotten too bad yet. It's just at that point where I'd just rather sleep than do anything else. The worst part is, it's going on through only half of my brain, so while one-half is considerably upset & wants to sleep everything off, the other half actually wants to get work done. Because of this, there are short bursts of time where I will get up, get out of bed, & either work on something, or I'll get out of my room & go spend time with my family. And while doing these things makes me feel a bit better than my usual crappy, can't-be-bothered attitude, by the time I'm done, or a significant amount of time has passed, I start to feel rather tired & sluggish. 

I want to work, I want to get things done, & sometimes, I do get them done, but it's clearly not enough. I need to push harder, to get through this better & faster, better than I usually do before. The semester started off pretty good; why must it go downhill because of something as pointless & needless as this?

One thing I feel that I, along with millions of other people, need to understand & cement in my brain, is the fact that my mind does not necessarily control me; I control it, not the other way around. I think what I think, I do what I do; my brain simply just goes along with it. If I keep feeding it the wrong things, the wrong details, then it definitely will think about those wrong details, & consider them to be the truth over the actual truth. You're never as bad as you think you are.

Of course, this isn't to say that it will work for every situation. It's obviously not that simple; it never is. But I suppose in situations where we are in even a little bit of control, it is possible to slowly rummage through & untangle the mess that is our muddled up brain; untangle the parts that are the most bothersome, & to work our way up through it. While I admit it's difficult, it definitely isn't impossible. Think you can, & you will. Think you can't, go on & do it anyway. Afterall, what've you got to lose, right?

Listen harder, people. Jeez. *eye roll*
Smh.

Definitely new favourite quote. <3

Semi-Normal

Soooo. It has been a while now, hasn't it?

I'm not sure if I should be apologizing for this or not, since I'm not sure if anyone even follows my posts on here, though there has been a considerable increase in the page views since the last time I posted on here. I'm not sure how people come across this blog since there are literally more posts on here than there are followers, but that's not to say that I'm complaining about it. If anything, it just makes me feel prouder of what little material I've posted on here. As always, I hope it's helped at least one person get through a particularly tough time in their life.

Anyway, it's been a mixed bag of a year so far. We're only three months into the year, & already there has been a myriad of situations & emotions that's flooded through my way. Of course, not all of them were good, but not all of them were bad either. Mostly, it's just been alright. I suppose that's particularly down to me being ridiculously busy for all of the three months so far. There have rarely been days where I've had time to sit & really think about things & situations in my life; the only time that I've ever really had has been the considerably long journeys from the uni to home.

I've done things that have made me feel rather good, happy, & proud of myself. That in itself is a rather great achievement for me, considering how much 2015 was dominated by lows & downsides. It's been good so far (touch wood!), & I hope it continues to be that way. I also hope to overcome this general laziness &/or busy-ness & write more often. There have been so many times where I've thought about writing a blog post down, about something interesting or exciting thing that has happened to me, but I've just simply been way too tired or overworked to sit down & muster up the energy to jot down all the information in a somewhat readable & coherent manner.

However, hopefully, this tiny little problem will be fixed soon, & I'll be able to get back into writing once again on here, simply because I absolutely love it. So hopefully, see you soon!

Challenges & Bravery

Okay, so fair warning, this is going to be a feel good post for myself; something I can look back on, on days that are less than pleasant. Something I can be proud of, every time I look at it. Lord knows I need those on bad days anyway. So anyway, even though this post is meant more for myself than anyone else, I still hope that someone, somewhere, benefits from some teeny little part of this post. I hope they do.

Today, I did something I didn't think I would do, or would be able to do. I thought a million times of not doing it, of just letting it be; you know, whatever. It doesn't matter that much, even though funnily enough, I'd thought & thought, & worried about this exact same thing, for more than a few days. At one point, it was important enough to have been a topic of discussion with my friends & my sister. The truth was, it had been important enough as long as I had made it important enough; as long as I'd considered it important enough.

See, I came here to write, thinking that I will only take note of the thing that I'd accomplished, to keep it as a good memory, & then I'd be on my merry way. But that's never quite what happens here on this blog, is it? Now that I'm writing about it, a lot more things are coming to light than I'd even thought of; or rather, not thought of.

I didn't think much of any of the things I just mentioned, nor the ones I'm about to mention. I didn't think at all because that's the kind of mental place I have been in for the past few weeks. And by mental place, I do NOT mean an actual place that is mental; I mean that's the kind of place I have been in, in my head, just to clear that up.

Anyway, useless rambling aside, writing what I wrote above, has obviously made me realize a few things. First & foremost, is the very obvious fact that everything you do, everything you think is just so important, is actually only as important as you make it out to be. You'll keep doing it, as long as you think, as long as you have the realization, that this is important, in your head. Once you think, once you let the simple thought of "this isn't that important", get into your head, I guarantee you, it will lose its value.

It will lose the importance, the urgency, that you've associated with it. That thought, that urgency, that this needs to be done because this is just that important; it will vanish, without a doubt. And you will be left with what I'm dealing with nowadays; struggling to get the work done because nothing comes to my head every time I sit to work. It's actually very frustrating, & equally as sad.

For one of my classes, (take a WILD guess as to which one I'm talking about. Go on. And while you're there, also take note of the excellent sarcasm right here.) we had to be sorted into groups for the final project. Sound simple? It isn't.

I'll tell you why; while we had to be sorted, we were going to be doing the sorting. Meaning, we had to decide if we wanted to be group leaders or followers; & if we were going to be group leaders, we had to pick our group members.

Now, even if you've never met me, even if you've never spoken to me in real life, you will still know the fact that my personality is a complete 360° in uni, in comparison to how I am usually. I'm the complete opposite in uni: shy, quiet, reserved, soft-spoken, gentle.

Very obviously, none of this applies to me in situations outside of the uni. Like I said, the complete opposite. So if we were to do this in a situation that wasn't based inside the university, this would be a piece of cake, & just as exciting as I actually thought of it, instead of the quiet panic I felt. It wouldn't have been this difficult, & I wouldn't have had to spend as many days as I did, thinking about it.

So I thought & thought & thought, until eventually, I convinced myself that it does not matter as much as I was making it out to be. That, & the fact that I would be an awful leader anyway, & that because of the difficulties I'm having in my life currently, I wouldn't be able to do it. The brain; such an ugly place to be sometimes, isn't it? So vile & vicious towards the body that hosts it. How awful.

Anyway, I'd convinced myself to not become a leader, to not challenge myself, to not move out of my comfort zone, & to stay in familiar territory; aka, keep my mouth shut, & just doing what others ask me to do. No matter that goes completely against my natural personality, no matter that I am rarely someone that doesn't have an opinion about everything. Shut up & follow; that's it. That's what I've been doing ever since I came here. I never challenged myself, never moved out of my comfort zone.

To be honest, forget challenges & comfort zones; this is well within my comfort zone. This is not a challenge for me, at all, to begin with; it is something I enjoy immensely, & it is something that I'm at total ease with. Talking to people, listening to them, helping them; aren't all of those things, things that I absolutely love to do? Aren't I the person with the friendly, bubbly personality, that people genuinely need to ask to shut up, because I actually speak that much? Then why was it so difficult all of a sudden?

After all of this thinking & brooding came today; the actual day where we had to have decided if we wanted to be leaders or followers. Sounds so scary to the "uni me". I'm pretty sure there came once a point, halfway through the class, where I had an internal mini panic attack as I realized that by the end of the class, I'd had to have made a final decision. Just thinking back to that point is making me anxious, to be honest. It was genuinely nerve-racking.

So then, eventually, the big question was asked, & whatever decision I made then, would be it. What I was feeling at that moment; man. Bad anxiety is putting it mildly. I genuinely thought I would be too chicken to actually do it because becoming a leader would mean being responsible & active, & with the way things are going in my life right now, those are the last two things I wanted to be.

But guess what? I actually did it. I put my hand up, & I made the decision of being a leader. Now, for regular, actual me, this wouldn't be a big deal. It wouldn't even matter, to be honest. But considering my "other" personality, this was a huge deal for me. I broke out of that comfort zone, I refused to take the easier way, & I refused to go down the "expected" route.

I haven't felt this proud of myself in quite a while; this proud, this accomplished. It definitely was an amazing feeling, & it was just as definitely needed. It was a small victory, but it was a victory all the same. It felt pretty damn good to prove my own self wrong. It was really nice to finally be able to go against the obvious.

There really is no moral, motivating, or positive reason behind this post. There definitely wasn't one in my mind when I started writing this, & anything that seems otherwise is actually purely coincidental.

But what I will say, is that everything I wrote above, about the importance of things & the like; it really mostly depends on how much importance you assign to each task & each job, depends entirely on you. How important a job is, YOU decide. The importance of a job is all dependent on you & how you perceive it. Apart from that, sometimes it's good to challenge yourself, to go ahead, be brave, & do things that are very obviously out of your comfort zone. Sometimes, it's worth making that jump.

<3