Isle of Skye

One can hope. And one can once again ask Allah: please stop bringing stupid-head people and situations in my life. I hate their judgement, their empty words and their assumptions about me. Why are they being so blind? Do I really treat other people like that? Of course. And I am sorry. I don't know why I still do it. I'm trying so very, very hard. So hard, I am. So hard. And I can tell, because I am getting annoyed by my own self once again, that I must really be stepping on the toes of other people. I don't want to do that. I only reach out because I see it as connecting. And behaving opposite to my regular behaviour patterns of hiding away like a hurt turtle. And I'm so lonely and I need more real-life people in my life. Sane people. feather dusters. I'm so tired of all the people who are lessons and lessons and lessons..... why are there no enjoyable lessons? I may have angels and spirit guides around me, but can I see them? Can I sense th...

... as though I shall never feel love again. This, too, shall pass. I just hate the fact I made such a huge mistake. That I was so in my mind and head-in-the-clouds. Okay, enough! ~~~ Debbie Ford : You may not believe you have anything special to give, but this is just not the case. "All you really need is love, but a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt." ~ Lucy Van Pelt from Peanuts "When sadness comes, just sit by the side and look at it and say, 'I am the watcher, I am not sadness,' and see the difference. Immediately you have cut the very root of sadness. It is no more nourished. It will die of starvation. We feed these emotions by being identified with them." ~ Osho

I've been racking my brain for the lessons to learn: the real lessons, not the airy fairy, "oh I'm in love with a figment of my imagination because my self-esteem is really that low that I'd believe my own feelings of union and then, this was verified by whatsoever Sidra told me about him being a soul mate. So I made that the reason for pursuing him, and taking all the rubbish he's fed me and, furthermore, asking for more and "counselling" him when he disposed of me like a wet-wipe and hoping against hope.. for what?" I fear men (the male species) I hate men (the male species) I will do anything to harm myself, to self-sabotage. Subconsciously, of course. I have extremely, extremely low self-esteem I should not trust people so easily, or tell them that I trust them. Or trust them full stop. Or tell them everything. It's just my notion, my mental fabrication. No basis in truth. Boundaries must be set and maintained. I will not even begin lo...

Review, reflect and realise what a big twat you've been. Crawl under your rock again. You already broke your phone accidentally on purpose. Another synchronous event... Get off of FB :) You're acting like a TWAT! This is a role you need to drop like a leaf again.... Good stuff. Nobody cares about World Mental Health Day. You didn't last year....

...these entries I made three years ago. I think it’s vital for me to post them up here, at this time, on this day. 19 Aug 2007 Ma vie est merde. The weather has been cloudy since I came back. My father is as selfish and cocky as ever. My health is as poor as ever. My SAD has already begun. I MUST get a light box. I don’t trust my father – j’suis devenue vulnerable à cause d’etre isolée ici – sans ma mère . J’pense pas que j’ai la fortitude. J’sais pas. Je veux être mariée, mais la question est: comment, quand et avec qui? C’est vrai que j’ai l’espoir de trouver qqn, mais c’est autant vrai ce que dit ma mère: il n’y aura bcp d’offres. Le marriage à Birmingham est peut-être une ocassion ou je peux profiter, mais le coeur deprimée ne veut pas y aller non plus et pas avec le père. Les aspirations de travailler avec Oxfam et Amnesty sont devenues nulles. Je suis deprimée – je veux rien faire. Pourqui c’est inventi – la depression – les gens perdent une moitée de la vie, de la jo...

My black dog Barney returns... And for a while, it was comforting to feel like this again. Contentment being such an alien emotion for me. He wreaks havoc over my brain. My hands shake and my faith falters all over again. After having sworn to convert. He has taken over completely. My lines of communion are severed. I cannot see; I cannot hear, I cannot feel. Woe is me. Keeping Mum She cast aside the veil today to show me what hurts her mosts, what worries her most, what she fears the most. It's made me shake. I worry her the most. And that worries me the most. The reality is: I am failing miserably. All ways are shut. I'm stuck on a strange bed, making words out of letters and still making no sense. Reminder And Allah says, "But you may dislike something which is good for you, and you may like something which is bad for you. Allah knows while you do not know". Ides of September It's a crappy month, though don't ask me why. The good thing about fasting in Rama...

I can't find anything I want to do. I've been trawling through all the reasonable MA courses for someone like me and they all sound revolting. Translation and Interpretation, Speech and Language Therapy, Teaching, Literature of the 18th Century. 10,000 word dissertations. I can't believe that I'm not truly an academic. I can't believe that my academic career will end at a measly BA. As for volunteer/internship ops, most are for teaching, one is for the OUP but they need a CV and all of them are either in Defence or Clifton. I don't have the car/can't have it for a 9-5 job. What the ruddy hell am I to do? Why did they (my parents) have to spawn such a hell's reject? I have no bloody aspirations whatsoever. I only had them a long time ago, and that was the usual drivel: teaching, journalist, author. That was before I realised I would need some ability, experience, talent and willingness to go through a lot of shite. I mean, I can't even write a s...

I NEED TO DO SOMETHING WITH MY LIFE!

I know our time together is no more. then why do words come to mind that call you back? Why do I plan lifetimes that include you? Why do I torture myself with love I never felt while you were here? From 'How to Survive the Loss of a Love' Colgrove, Bloomfield and McWilliams ISBN 0-553-10492-6195 A random thought makes me think of him today. You know who. ok ok ok :) Relaxine Maxine. He used to say it whenever I was over-reacting to something he said. God knows what and God knows how many times. I just like the fact that he was as I wanted, in my mind, under my control (until I overstepped the hidden boundary and was reminded of it). He had a corny sense of humour, but it made me laugh, and that has been one of those tiny little strings that have anchored me; that have buoyed me upon the sea of life. I think I would have gone under if it weren't for him, at one point of my life. I stayed alive in order to think up smart repartees. I was so com...

Question: Who was so pissed off that he cut his ear off? Answer: Van Gough I was fiddling with this in my head today, seeing if I could somehow work it into a title for a novel. The problems with it are numerous: apart from it being crass, crude and disrespectful, nothing in my imaginary novel would contain references to whichever type of artist he was, nor would anyone cut off his ear. Because that's just a stupid way to cause yourself pain. Deity Sukaina Juma And as my Soul dug into the grass, hiding away from the joys of the world and burrowing itself deeply into the grains of mud; I could see the sky as the light faded. The blueness of sky, the whiteness of cloud, the pink of sun But no tears trickled down these cheeks of mine I wasn't moved by the sight. But I was grateful that I did not have control over the entire universe. For He is able to create each day anew, while us hypocrites are left to play around with His original idea, and present it to the world with a differ...

Storms in England, storm in Karachi. Thunder. Clouds. Strong winds. Bomb blasts in Lahore and Islamabad, no longer just in Karachi. Lost any inspiration to write. I don't know why I continue to write to Umair. Makes no ruddy sense. I wanted to take more than one sleeping pill yesterday, so it's a good thing my mum was there and had an inkling (not that I have ever been able to hide my emotions, they like staying on my sleeve). I told her to hide them and to keep giving me one each night. Then she felt guilty and slept in my bed at night. So I told her, "Am I only bearable when I am unconscious?" No hugging or anything, mind you. Huge thunderclap. A mother of storms, which equals to flooding since we don't have any proper sewerage draining system. This also means the phone lines and the Internet will be disconnected for a few days. Oh, joy. And probably the electricity and the television cable. Well, at least I have a few Shakespeare plays and some ruddy romance no...

Does watching creative people and music and programmes on telly make you feel creative? Or am I so desperate to make meaning into my life and to 'get on with it' that I've superficially imbibed the creativity and energy of the Aag TV VJs and Indus News reporters, only to later crash and fizzle out without a sound, only to end up on the trash heap of wannabes-but-never-were-because-they-were-too-stupid-and-lazy-and-fucked-up? I had a dream-like epiphany this morning which made feel all author-like and wanting to write a novel about my depression, and then to make a film, all the while incorporating Jungian MBTI and enneagram types. And then I realised there is no way I can do that. This personality thing cannot be brought to the silver screen and explored and presented perfectly in just two hours, or even three. Well, maybe three. But it's not as though I am capable of writing a screenplay. And then I watched this programme on Indus News about the class system that is be...

Stupid freaks I have for parents. It's been absolutely aeons since they were married to one another and yet they hold such deep rooted grudges against each other. And it's mostly to do with fucking money. My mother. Argh. 'Oh, aren't you a smart girl, giving all your money to your father.' I said, 'It's a loan, he wanted to pay off the mortgage and will pay me back.' She said, 'Well, you're giving him all your money when I am here without any money.' 'Okay, as soon as I get my money, I'll give it all to you and never look at it again.' 'No, I have given the money to you and you very nicely give it to your father.' Fuck off. It's the same old shit, recycled and rehashed and served on a new platter. And my father is just as bad. 'I don't know why your mother from her rich background married me, a poor man.' 'She's not rich anymore.' 'Oh yes, your family is rich and you have t...

The feeling inside of my heart - yes, it is situated quite acutely in that specific organ - of an abysmal abyss that increases, an unease that has crawled its way once again into my being, only this time it is taking away my human breaths with it. A contracting of nerves and of muscle. I find it hard to breathe. Maybe it is because of the thoughts that are pulsating within my entire body and threaten to overflow into this outburst of complete and utter desperation. I think I have done well to control it for this entire week. I have done extremely well. However, with the cycles of my being as they are, with the auguries of complete and utter devastation that continue to circle in this immensely fragile mind of mine, it is only a matter of time before I break. I only hope it is once I have reached my destination and not before. For, each day that I spend in premature mourning here is a day wasted in appreciating what's left of my life here. I know that I won't come back for a ver...

A shudder had just passed through my head. I am not sure whether I should be writing this right now. But I have to. There is no one to talk to about this. Not even Anouska . After all, we're supposed to be talking about me and my personal definition of what makes my life so shit. And, after all of this, I am still depressed and I still lack self-esteem and I still have no idea how to claw myself out of this. And yet, my mother. I never thought I would be able to make any linkages today. I really didn't. But I have repressed this because I thought that there was nothing to be done if she wouldn't speak to me about it. Fuck. I want her to go into therapy. How on earth could they be so stupid? How could my Nana's obsessive desire to stay in the good books of the family make him sacrifice the integrity of his own family? Screw the fact that Batool has schizophrenia. And for that fucking man who doesn't deserve the name he was given. How could he send Mummy so far away...