Tuesday, 17 December 2013
Monday, 16 December 2013
Saturday, 30 November 2013
Okay, it is possible I didn't say exactly that, but something along those lines.
Most of the things I want to say are so crazy, I doubt any of my followers will actually want to read it, or be interested. Who wants to listen to the rants of a fucked-up fourteen-year-old?
And no, I'm not the fourteen-year-old that everyone images when I mention my age, and I'm so sick of people generalizing. I have literally no tolerance for people who generalize. This applies in all aspects of life, mind you, so don't even.
The problem is, and this is really just me starting off from wherever because this is not something I can periodically explain, nobody has hurt me. I doubt anybody has ever really hurt me. Except for myself. I've hurt myself the most. Not physically, of course. But I've just always made things worse for me. Sometimes I wonder if I want to be in shitty situations because I put myself in some so often. I need saving from myself. Somebody to tell me, "Adeena, you're ruining your life. You are pulling the trigger yourself." Somebody who can make me look at life from a rational point of view. It's crazy that I couldn't do it without losing some of the closest people in my life.
"How do you feel?"
Is there a way somebody can run away from themselves? Because, I'm up for anything right now.
Whatever. This is such a pointless post.
Saturday, 23 November 2013
We became friends because you wanted to 'help' me. I didn't want helping. I didn't want saving. I was the saviour. The saviour doesn't need saving.
I was broken and lost and waiting to be found, and yes, you, by all means, found me.
But you made me admit something was wrong. You made me a victim. You made me a slave to my misery which I had chosen to ignore before.
Depression isn't something you can cure with an "I love you," and an, "It'll be okay."
This depression makes me an outsider, an outcast, a loner, a nobody, a freak.
Depression isn't something you can make me feel guilty about.
I have zero control over myself.
And you thinking that you could change the way I feel is utter bullshit.
Me opening up to you is utter bullshit, because at the end of the day, what do you know about dealing with a suicidal friend? About as much as I know about being depressed. And I know zilch.
I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want to push you away.
I've dealt with a difficult friend, too. I admit, I was not always there to save her, but I never pushed her off the edge.
Lately, I don't know which side you're on.
I don't know what you want.
I never wanted to hurt you.
I never wanted you to hurt me either.
I opened up to you, and I hate myself for it because I expected you to understand, but you didn't. You're just a good listener.
You are so beyond stupid it frustrates me because I just don't even understand how somebody could be this fucking daft. You write poetry about great big things - love, desire, prejudice, lust, hope, longing, life - but you understand none of it. You know how to string words together to make them sound beautiful but you do not understand these feelings. You've never seemed more fake to me.
All you've ever made me was not okay.
I am done.
Tuesday, 12 November 2013
Sunday, 20 October 2013
“I want to tear myself from this place, from this reality, rise up like a cloud and
float away, melt into this humid summer night and dissolve somewhere far, over the
But I am here, my legs blocks of concrete, my lungs empty of air, my throat burning.
There will be no floating away.”
— Khaled Hosseini
Tuesday, 1 October 2013
Hmm, Adeena does.
That makes me question who I am sometimes. But then I think about it, and all the people I've ever met have made such an impression on me. All the people I've ever made acquaintance with are probably responsible for who I am today, and I don't know if that's a good or bad thing. But that's just me, I pick up on other people's habits, and the way they talk, and the way they push their hair back behind their ears, or how they clear their throat before they speak, just things like that, and at one point or the other, they sort of start defining me.
Maybe that's why it hurts me so much when people leave me, I lose a part of myself and for a while I'm just lost, I forget who I am.
I've noticed this about my penmanship, too. It used to be like my science and social studies teacher in 4th grade, and then my English teacher in 5th grade, my mom in 6th grade. And now, it's just a lot more me.
And I can't wait for that to happen to me. I used to be like my friends in 4th grade, then my friends in grades 6 through 8, and in 9, the populars, who happen to be my friends.
But then there's my best friend. My best friend, who I love, but his name's always on my tongue, I'm always thinking about him, and because of him I'm friends with so many more people now, I'm exposed to so many more things, and I'm glad, but I think that's taking away who I am. I depend on him too much.
And I know how that turns out, we get closer, and closer, and I depend on him for everything, he's my go-to person for everything. I'm not sure if that's bad, but I need to meet new people. Just for me, not because I don't want to be friends with him, but because I need to stop depending on others, and I need to start being my own person.
Wednesday, 4 September 2013
"Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am a thousand winds that blow,I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,I am the diamond glints on snow,
When you awaken in the morning’s hushI am the gentle autumn rain.
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die."
Tuesday, 3 September 2013
Wednesday, 10 July 2013
Wednesday, 26 June 2013
Friday, 21 June 2013
i'm happy. a strange kind of happy, really.
but i'm sleepy. and i'm listening to my favourite kind of music.
i met this friend of mine after a long time today, since she's back in Karachi, YAY.
i'm so happy about that. it was so much fun catching up with her. we haven't changed one bit.
and i really don't know, it's a carefree kinda time of night and state of mind.
right after i came home from my friend's house, i took a shower, a cold shower with music on, and boy, was that fun. after the shower, i ate a leftover samosa, watched the remaining bit of The Sisterhood of The Traveling Pants 2, and went off to sleep.
it was great. it happened after a long time, i don't know if that sounds weird. but i just went off to sleep. the right kind of sleep when i was so deep asleep nothing else mattered, and i was half-dead and pretty damn comfortable.
so, my point, i guess, is that i'll be fine... maybe not all the time, but i'll be okay. and that makes me happy. which is why okay is great.
Thursday, 20 June 2013
i feel trapped. and i don't mean like i can't go where i want to, or i want to travel. i'm just scared there's too much out there in the world i won't ever get to see. too much out there i won't get to experience. that scares me. i want to see so much. i want to do so much.
i want to travel, i want to learn different languages, i want to meet people, walk in barren lands, read long forgotten books, live in old houses, eat crazy types of food i'd never imagine eating, walk up to a random stranger and tell them i like the book they're reading, or the way they've put up their hair, anything.
i want to really discover the world. that scares me, really.
i want to know what life is... what living it's like.
and i'm not sure what scares me more, the fact that i can do that or the fact that i might never be able to.
i've wondered a lot of things for a long time... and one of them being, if someday, when i get married, my in-laws treat me bad, what's my dad going to do? is he going to care? is he going to let them treat me like shit? or is he going to take me back home with him? i don't know if i should be thinking about all this... but it means so much.
and i don't really know how to deal with so many feelings at the moment. i just don't. and the fact that i can't tell anybody who'll actually understand is frightening.
and i don't really know if there's anything left to say
Tuesday, 18 June 2013
I've been trying to bond with my sister recently. She's been cranky and impatient, and well, I figured she could use a friend.
So, tonight, while we were in bed, waiting for slumber to take over, I asked her to tell me a story. After hearing her story, I contributed to this bonding session by saying, 'Close your eyes. Imagine you're in the place that makes you happiest. The place you like best.'
I pictured myself in New York. Devouring lonely libraries, walking across busy streets and just feeling the beauty of being alone; of seeing people, but not having to be one of them.
After a while in our happy place, my sister asked me where I imagined myself, I told her where I'd been, she told me she saw herself in her own house. That's all she said, that she saw herself in a house of her own.
I thought that was the cutest thing ever. She wants a home, she wants a family. She wants to be around people she loves and she wants to show them how much she loves them.
How different we are, don't you think? One sister finding happiness away from people, and the other, with.
But I guess, that says a lot about me... And her.
Or maybe I just gave it too much thought. I am good at that.
Sunday, 16 June 2013
'Umm... because you're my sister, I care even if I don't want to.'
When I recalled this conversation from last night, I can't even begin to explain how happy it made me.
The fact that he's there, you know? The fact that he's my brother, he'll always be there to pick me up if I fall down. He can be the biggest of douche-bags at times, but if I'm writing a blog post about him, he definitely matters.
And I'm glad he does. And I'm glad I matter to him, because I'm his sister.
Saturday, 15 June 2013
Thursday, 9 May 2013
It's the late hours of night that reek of darkness and livid emptiness of the night, where it's hard to heave my eyes open, the utter fatigue of the day having gripped me, the musical symphony has synced in with my eyes, and they, too, sway to and fro; I realize what I've achieved is bliss.
What a blessing it is to be occupied, to have enough things to do to not care about what tomorrow holds.
Wednesday, 1 May 2013
I knew for a fact that she was depressed. I'd talked to her enough, I was closest, at the time, to her out of all our friends. Closest in the sense that she would open up to me. And, anyway, I know a lot about depression and what it does to people, I can recognize a depressed person when I see one.
I have this part of me that's just sat waiting for somebody to approach her, somebody to ask for help, somebody to ask for her to be a friend. I want to be somebody that listens and cares, and a true friend even if others aren't the same to me. I figure everybody needs a friend at some point, and I want to be that friend.
So, because of this part of me who was thrilled to see somebody so different, somebody so real, I listened to her vigilantly; making all her problems mine.
And without knowing it, she became a part of me. I loved her so much. I wanted to everything about her.
And then, one day, she left. She moved back to where she came from and we still talk and stuff, but the things she told me, the way she talked, the way she cried, the way she sang, and wanted just to spread peace in the world - they all stuck. They made me a different person.
Sometimes, people come along who your soul just clings onto. You don't know why, and you don't know how it happens, but they become an essential part of our lives. You have a connection with them that nobody understands, and that's what makes it perfect.
And these people, they teach you so much about life.
People are beautiful in what they've been through and in the way they choose to express it.
I'll never forget her. She made me more sure of who I am than anybody ever has, and I love her so much for that.
Saturday, 6 April 2013
Tuesday, 26 March 2013
the only reason i haven't completely broken down is because i've done it too much and these damn anti-depressants need to work, which i guess they're doing their bit.
Sunday, 24 March 2013
I of all people would know that.
But what if it's letting go of that bit of remainder that still makes you normal? What if it's letting go all the pain and hurt of all past days?
I would never cut. I would never commit suicide.
I would runaway.
I don't see the point in holding on anymore.
I'm not running away, though. I'm fine. I smile, joke, laugh with everybody else, but I don't feel like one of them. I hate not feeling like them because they're so closely involved and... why am I left out?
But when I start acting like them, I hate myself for it, I feel like I'm becoming a clone when that happens.
The point is, I'm fine. I'm not doing anything normal people don't do, I'm not not doing anything normal people do do.
I'm just weird. I just feel incomplete.
Sorry for getting y'all depressed with this post.
Thursday, 14 March 2013
Tuesday, 12 March 2013
- I came home at 2.30
- Took a shower
- Had lunch
- Left home at 4.30
- Went for tuition
- Left at 6.30
- Went to pick my dad up
- Waited at his office for half an hour
- Came back home at 8
- Made pamphlets for these stalls we're putting up at school
- Got screamed at by my parents because I'm an ungrateful brat
- Left to get them printed at 9
- Spent 20 minutes arguing about the format I wanted the thing to be printed in
- Waited 30 minutes in the market, hanging around in various shops until the dude was done printing the pamphlets.
- Came home at 10.15
- Freaked out about my life being a mess and thought about how effing tired I was
I like routine. I like having things to do. What I don't like, however, is being driven crazy and wanting to die, because I've never wanted to die. Ever. And now I've lost it enough. Just enough.
Monday, 21 January 2013
Tuesday, 1 January 2013
I know that sounds stupid, but that's what I thought.
And now, having gone through another year of my life, which consisted of both light and dark, I realize that no year is responsible for what happens to you. And that every coming year will be as bad as the last. But it's our responsibility as secondary caretakers of our lives and souls, to realize that no matter how bad a time passes you, there's a reason behind it and soon enough, you'll find out what it is.
When my aunt died in 2010, and the two years before her death when we were all really just passing the time we had, and I didn't regret it and I didn't hate it and I wasn't depressed, and I wasn't even unhappy. But it was a difficult time. And now that that time's passed (Thank God), I really see that that time, though primarily made our lives tough, also made us happy in our daily life. You know what I mean?
We were so hung up on 'Oh, that chemotherapy,' or 'Oh, dinner at Phuppo's tonight,' that the time at school for me, or work for my dad, or even home for my mother, was good. It was relaxed, because we saw the bigger image; because all the hardships of daily lives didn't get to us, because for all we knew, we'd be losing a beloved family member the very next day.
And then that year went by, and then another, and now another has gone, and we're still here. Still standing, still together, still loving, caring, hurting, breathing.
So, for what it's worth, happy new year, and may the coming year make you a stronger person. And I say that with a lot of thought put into the statement. And I don't really think, so savor it.