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.

A Woman Does Not Need To Be Torn Down For You To Appreciate Another

In today's society, it has become increasingly & alarmingly easy for people to not only inflict their opinions on to the world, but it has also become alarmingly "cool" for people to hate & berate others.

Now, of course, this might shock some people, but guess what? This "trend" isn't a new trend for women. Shocker, I know. But this thing where it's suddenly so cool & hip(I guess I'm officially old now, having just used the word hip) to hate & berate, women have been dealing with this for years. Allow me to explain.

A person, more commonly, but not limited to men, will see two women, & their first instinct will be to compare the two; pit the two against each other automatically.

In a religious society, a woman who's covered up is automatically seen as the better one in comparison to a lady who's not covered up. In a workplace environment, a woman who's made more of an effort towards her appearance is seen as the better one than a woman who doesn't dress up, regardless of her circumstances. 

Ah, but circumstances; the very pretty, very easily neglected word. Who cares if a woman's circumstances don't allow her to have the luxury other women do; main thing is, she must be pitted against every single woman in the world.

Who cares that she's very proud of her friend achieving more than her, & who cares that she's comfortable with this. Lady A is not as successful as Lady B, so she must automatically be jealous & judgemental of her; never mind that Lady B might be extremely happy with her situation, & has different aspirations in life than Lady A.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying a little competition isn't healthy; by all means, it is indeed a good source of motivation for everyone. But how come two men are never pitted against each other? How come it is never said, since Man A is earning more than Man B, the latter must be so jealous, & will have to outdo Man A to be happy? Oh but maybe Man B doesn't have the same circumstances, the poor thing.

My question here, is that why is the society so much more willing to make excuses for men than it is for women? Why is it so easy to understand men than it is to understand women? Why must you shame one woman for dancing a certain way, but appreciate another for something that suits the narrative?

Why must, say, Beyoncè be pitted against Adele? Aren't they both incredibly successful ladies, loving what they're doing, & don't people listen & enjoy both of them? Where does it say if you like one, you can't like the other? Who says you have to pick between the two?

Women all around the world are doing great things, without being acknowledged or applauded for; we don't need people to pit us against each other & to choose one over the other; most of us are very happy & very comfortable with our situations & where we are.

If you really cannot stay away from talking about women, please learn to empower them, & learn to speak up about & for them. Trust me, you will be a much better person for doing it than you will be vehemently trying to pit any amount of kickass ladies against each other.

Yep.

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.

Depression

The majority of the time on this blog, with a few exceptions, we've maintained a positive vibe, happy thoughts, and encouragement to get all of us through the day, week, month, or year. I've tried my best to turn my bad days, bad thoughts, into life lessons, made them into things with a positive outcome.

But the simple truth of the matter is, it's not always rainbows and sunshines. It's not always happy, and it sure as hell is not always positive.

I've suffered from unhappiness throughout most of my life. I've struggled with trying to keep my outlook on life a positive one; I'm cynical, negative, and terribly sarcastic, and that is how I've been for the major part of my life. I'm not positive, I don't have a positive outlook on life.

The only thing that ever kept me positive, was writing the blog posts on here, and friends that pushed and pulled me along; not only friends but sometimes even friends of friends.

They kept me going, they forced me to see the good side of life, and how sometimes, happiness is forgetting about everything else, and just living in the moment, laughing about the dumbest of things. For that, I am forever grateful to all these people; if they ever read this, I hope you are able to identify yourself, and I thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

Everybody feels sad sometimes, yes, but not everybody feels that sadness constantly, hovering over them like a dark, extremely condensed cloud; a big ball of dark sadness. It taints everything, every living, breathing moment; it's always there, constantly, staying at the edge of every moment, even the happy ones, and you're always hyperaware of its presence.

You're afraid even, that the happy moment that you're experiencing at that second might get too close to this particular dark cloud, and then be ruined forever. A happy moment, filled with colour, tainted with darkness, until it turns completely dark, and absorbs it until there is no colour left within the happy moment.

It's extremely difficult to live with this feeling, constantly. Like I said, it taints everything. It's difficult to enjoy the happy moments, because you're aware of the fact that every moment is temporary, everything is fleeting; you won't be happy forever.

The happiness won't always last, and this lunch with your family, this phone call with your best friend, this good moment, will end sooner or later. You can't quite keep this feeling captured within you for forever.

The sad part is, you never realise or think about the fact that your sadness is also not permanent; nothing in life is ever permanent. Things change, feelings change, people change; so then why is it so damn difficult to realise this when you're feeling sad?

Why is it so difficult to remember the good within you, but so bloody easy to go through your flaws again and again and again, until you've memorized them until you know them better than you know your own self?

Another lie that depression tells you? You need people to survive, to pull through it; you need your friends, your significant other, anybody who is willing to become your crutch, knowing or unknowingly. It makes you think you need people to help you, to fix you; what you don't realize or understand, is that you never really need anybody but your own self to get through it.

You need to be there for yourself, you need to make that effort, better than anybody else can.

There's only so much others can do for you; you know yourself better than anybody else knows you. Friends, family, nobody can do it like you can, because nobody but you is in this situation; nobody but you has walked in your shoes. You are, and have to be, your own savior, because while people might give up on you, you can't give up on yourself.

Sure, you are your own worst enemy, but just like you never tire of reminding yourself of your flaws, you should be the last person to give up on yourself.

Nobody will ever be there for you like you can be there for yourself; trust me, I've had this theory tested again and again and again. There's only so much pushing and pulling the people around you can do for you, until you learn to get up and walk again; nobody can take your steps for you.

That's a feat that you have to accomplish on your own, again and again, and again, regardless of how many times you have to do it.

I have the worst habit of doubting myself, doubting my work, doubting my skills, and it gets ten times worse during my depressive bouts. I deleted this blog even, all because it got too much, and the doubt in my head was louder than anything else.

It's a horrible combination really, the doubt and the sadness; I mean, can you imagine the conversations between the two, going on in my head? It's truly awful, and I wouldn't wish it even on the worst of my enemies.

However, through all of this, I know one thing for sure. Every day that I live, every day that I'm alive, I'm trying my hardest. I'm trying my hardest to not let the sadness win, and I'm trying my hardest not to let the doubt win; it'll be truly chaotic if both those things schemed against me and won.

It's difficult to be positive in such a confined environment, and it's difficult to be truly happy, especially when you're so aware of how fleeting it truly is.

But you know what? If the happiness is fleeting, then so is this life, and so is the sadness. Life is short, life is fleeting; it'll all be gone in a flash, and you won't even know it, because you'll have wasted all this precious time being sad and upset.

Yes, I'm not happy, I feel trapped and suffocated, and I want out, I want to go away for a while. Yes, I'm also bound by responsibilities and family, and I'm dependent on them for everything.

But trying means fighting against the odds, and I think I haven't been fighting the right fight. Someone once told me, you can either fight small, unnecessary fights within a war, just because you can't focus on the bigger picture, or you can pick your battles wisely and win the war. I'm guessing that's what needs to be done here.

I'm hoping this is going to help me, and I hope this helps anybody else who needs this too. I hope you're enough for yourself, and I hope you get through this too; I hope you realize these things too, and I hope you pick and choose your battles wisely, and you win them too in the long run.

If you need help, or are going through suicidal thoughts, please get help. Know you are loved, and that you can get through this too, no matter what.

http://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/#

https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/topics/suicide-prevention/index.shtml

http://www.aasra.info/

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

Back Again

Hello, lovelies!

^Should this be a regular thing? Hmm. Let's see how it goes.

So, where I left off; miraculously, I remember exactly what I want to continue talking about. I guess it is kind of important to me to talk about this in depth and to elaborate on what I really mean. Maybe someone other than me will know exactly what I'm talking about, what I mean; maybe I'm not alone in feeling or thinking like this.

To give a quick recap, I spoke about how people might not be what we've perceived them to be, or to be more accurate, people might not be exactly how we've trained our brains to think of them. Does that make sense? I really hope it does; I know exactly what I'm talking about and what I mean, and I hope whoever reads this understands and gets it too. I hope I'm not the only one.

I have this friend, let's call her Jane for the sake of this post and her privacy; so this friend, I've known for quite some time now. She was once my "best friend", (what even are those? who came up with this concept?) and I always vouched for this person without a doubt.

I thought we'd be like those forever-type friends that you see in films and tv shows (do that kind of friendships ever exist in real life?); I've sadly, and quite pathetically, always wanted a friendship like that. And also equally as pathetically, I hope every friendship that I forge is going to be the forever kind. Sadly, it never is.

Anyway, point is, after vouching for a very long time for this person, I only very recently realized how much I'd been deluding myself into thinking this person was the best friend there ever was; I thought Jane thought of me just as I did her, that I meant equally as much to her as she did to me. Guess who had a rude awakening? I'll give you a minute to guess.

This person used to backbite about her other friends to me, and in those moments, I did feel a bit weird, but I brushed it off, as I once again deluded myself into thinking that she was just doing so because I was her closest confidante; now, as I see Jane interacting with her friends in a way that is identical to the way she interacts with me, I am forced to wonder if she does the same backbiting about me to them as she did about them to me.

The truth is, it's not about just one friend or just one instance. These things are spread out over all the people in our lives. The same way I realized the truth about Jane and her friendship with me, I realized how eerily similar all our relations are with other people. I've started to see the selfish ways of my family, my friends, my acquaintances; I now see through their sentences, their little actions.

I am forced to wake my brain up from the fog that is delusion and lies, and I now wonder whether it is the people in my life who are at fault for this fog, or if it has been my own self all along, who has willingly turned a blind eye (this is highly offensive and ignorant to my own self- I suffer from ONH; Google it).  Are they cheating me, or have I been cheating myself all along?

Do I do it because I don't want to think bad of them, because we are taught that since we are born, to look at the beauty and the good in people? Or do they, all because they are also taught the same lies as me? Is it time to stop lying to babies, and instead make them strong enough to face the realities of the world?

This post is officially the most mind-boggling post I've ever written. I don't really know whether I've truly come to the conclusion of not only this post, but also to the conclusion of my general thoughts and realization about this topic. I guess it is an on-going process, one that we all go through, regardless of whether we realize it or not; the selfishness and the lies never really end.

This post has also been a huge downer- that really wasn't my intention. I'd just like to know if somebody else also relates to this, and that I'm not the only one who thinks and feels this way. Please do let me know if you ever read this and relate to this; I really would love to know more of your thoughts about this whole mind-numbing matter.

I don't usually do this, but due to the nature and turn of this post, I feel like I need to; so, here is a hug and a kiss, because we are all better with a little more love in the big bad world.

XO

Moral of the story.