Day: October 4, 2020

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Dear diary, it was Sunday

I’m sitting by the seashore writing this, wearing my cool new sunglasses and drinking my pepsi, feeling like I actually own my life.

I’m listening to music but I won’t tell you what it is. It’s a “cheap” depressing song that I most enjoy in times like this. Makes me nostalgic, with happiness that is close to sadness, because even though this moment is nice, it will end.

But right now, as the wind nestles within my long striped dress, and as I get ready to dip into the sea, I’m learning what it feels like to live in the moment rather than everywhere outside of it.
Let us focus on the warm sun blushing my cheek, and the feeling of sand tickling my feet, and the guy in front of me trying to steady a bottle with the back of his middle finger. Let us stay here, safe, and content.

Virginia Woolf has been running through my mind saying;

“Pale, with dark hair, the one who is coming is melancholy, romantic. And I am arch and fluent and capricious; for he is melancholy, he is romantic. He is here.”

I can’t wait till sunset.

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It’s 5:30am again.

But this time, I’m happy. I woke up to a text that made it all okay. I woke up at 5:30am and I smiled to myself.

And I couldn’t sleep again because I keep thinking of it, everything. And right now I’m smiling again just remembering. What an odd feeling that is, to be happy because of a word, a gesture, a sense of hope?

Anyway.

I’ve grown to love car cruises. They are a pause from the destinations, from the action, from life at the end of the tunnel. To be moving, unable to work or be as productive, just a small break before we’ll have to go on again,

I love that feeling.

Car cruises have been my favorite thing to do for years; I always ask for a car cruise as a gift for my birthday. And a car cruise doesn’t have to be so hard; we don’t even need to be talking, loud music, and fast speed are I all need to be happy.

Yesterday I had one of those really nice car cruises. Even though there wasn’t any music, but my company was beautiful. We talked and talked and we drove through sunset and the wind was cold. Imagine. Cold air in the middle of this hell weather we have been living in. Nour could not hide her joyful heart.

I’ve had a tough week to say the least, with a sleepless night and a panic attack at 5:30am on Friday, and seeing their beautiful faces yesterday smiling back at me with all the sprinkles and rainbows in the world, it made me feel the grace I thought I have lost last week.

They’re my heroes and I don’t think they know this , but they have saved me so many times from so much pain and anxiety and depression. They’re my heroes.

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It’s 5:30a.m

And of course, I’m wide awake; nauseous with a stomach ache, my eyes weirdly itching, my body too exhausted, and I’m crying.

It is what it is, I guess. I can’t fight the anxiety; no matter how much I try to convince myself that this big thing is going to be okay, and even if it wasn’t okay, it’ll pass,

I’m still crying.

Even writing this, I’m finding it too hard to write and express myself with the right words because there is none, right words, I mean. I’m hand tight and scared of what will or might happen in a few hours. Am I going to embarrass myself in front of all these important people? Am I going to say the right words then? Am I going to know what to do and where to go? Will they be mean to me? Will they understand and lead me to safety?

Safety, please come back. I need you right now to protect me from the evilness of the unknown; I need you to reinforce the feeling of nonchalant in my system. My usual, “and then what?”

That’s my favorite grounding exercise.

I’ll be too shy to talk. And then what?

They’ll think I’m an amateur. And then what?

I won’t leave a good impression. And then what?

I will not do the right things. And then what?

I will feel anxious during. And then what?

And then it’ll pass. It won’t last forever. It’s only an hour and a half out of millions of hours I’ll live. It will be forgotten; I’ll be the only one to remember; it will only be as big in my head; they won’t think I am this bad. My anxiety intensifies my failure and turns them into something much worse than they really are.

It will pass. And it will be okay. but why can’t it pass faster

I will be supported. I will do good. I will make a good impression.

I will be supported. I will do good. I will make a good impression.

But for now, I need go back to sleep.