2020 what have you done

I think it’s about time we talk about 2020. Generally, I’ve been avoiding writing these two days as I’ll sound depressing-more depressing than my previous post, but I need to talk about 2020.

2020, what have you done? How can so many pain be fit in 12 months of nonsense? How can I lose my people, my city, my sanity, my health, in one year?

2020 you have aged me like no other. You gave me a good few months only to take it all away in your days; you took away the anxiety only to throw it back at my face on Tuesday, as the last laugh, claiming your win, claiming the last bits of shards that were left from my life.

2020, you win. I no longer will fight you. In the first 6 months, you taught me severe loss and unbearable feeling of staying silent while my loved ones are tortured in front of my eyes. You taught me to work 16 hours a day without a meaning, working only to reach a dead end. You taught me to stay quiet on justice and reminisce on memories I never lived. You taught me great nostalgia that ached me for so long.

And then you taught me the real meaning of anxiety. Of days of pure blackouts and unbearable anguish. You taught me how to see life as a dark, hopeless abyss and go on days terrified, to my bones, to wake up in the morning.

And then it got better. For around four months, you taught me love and grace and peace. You taught me to see the beauty in everything and notice the pretty little things in people. I was able to find my happiness again; you taught me how to smile without trying.

And then you took it away from me, now, as you are about to end and as I thought the hard phase is now behind me. You forced me to carry all the weight that took me too long to leave behind; you forced me to carry it again.

And you showed me hell, for three days you threw the worst scenarios that could’ve happened in my face, and it’s still the beginning of the road; I’m still in the first days, and it physically still isn’t as hard on me.

2020? You destroyed me. I thought you didn’t, I thought the first few months were just that, and it’ll get better, but now as I celebrate new years eve alone in a dark room without anyone by my side, I can tell you that you put me in a place I always dreaded.

I might not even stay awake till 12am, because, what’s the point? That’ll only depress me even more.

I’ll just sleep you away, I won’t even stay up to say my goodbyes. I’ll just sleep you away.

Day one

I don’t feel like writing, but i know crying alone in a dark room won’t do me good, and if I let myself sink as low as I am sinking right now, it’s going to take me months to stand back up.

My aunt told me it’s not okay to be weak, but it’s okay to cry if that what makes me feel better, and i can’t stop crying.

Why do I feel like this is my fault? Why do I feel this overburdened responsibility that I’m the cause of eternal misery, and that I won’t, nor anyone around me, find happiness anymore?

I’m thinking of what would’ve been my upcoming weeks; we had so many things planned and set out. We were going to have two gorgeous getaways, and new years eve is in three days, and I’m going to spend it alone in a dark empty room.

Well this sums up 2020, I guess. Saying goodbye to 2020 alone in my room, and I would’ve probably be worse by then because that’s what it is I guess, that’s 2020 for you.

I think if this is true, I would probably have seen everything in this hellbent year, my mental health would’ve been tested in the most awful ways and I’m not sure how much I can polish back from it.

For tonight, I think I’ll go back to watching Friends and hoping all of this goes away in the morning. 

I’ll try to keep on writing to feel sane, or maybe finish posts I’ve already began writing, I hope I can commit to this. 

I hope my head stops hurting, and my tears dry by tomorrow. 

Stay here

I’ve written the first sentence of this and erased it three times now, and not because it’s too hard or because I don’t have anything to say, it’s just that I can’t find a main idea for this to focus on.

Like, I want to tell you about the fact that I was smiling to myself today for absolutely no reason, and I want to tell you that I walked this morning to work. It was so refreshing and dark, and it started raining while at the office, and it was cold, which is probably why I was smiling all day long to myself, but I don’t know how to put it.

I’m so content this Christmas, I’m so happy with the impact we are making, and I’m grateful for the people around me. I’m always feeling this wholesome around Christmas, but this year is different, I guess.

I haven’t been feeling lonely for a while, the loneliness that has haunted me my whole life. For the first time I ever, I don’t feel as lonely; I don’t feel like I’m carrying mountains on my shoulders alone. The loneliness, it’s still there, but it’s not as severe as it has always been,

I’m changing; I know I am. It is so bizarre, but the way I feel and think has changed in a few months; I feel like I grew up ten years from May until this day; it’s insane how much my views and feeling and the way I see everything have changed dramatically. I’m not sure if what I’m feeling is temporary bliss, but it’s a new thing, and for the first time, I’m okay with a new thing.

Does it have to do with somebody? Something? Someplace? It might, and I might have the answer to all of this, but I won’t admit it to myself, let alone to you, and it might be a temporary bliss that will soon leave me aching. (but I’m trying so hard not to think about this)

But for the first time in years, I’m not trying to get away. I do not feel like escaping; I suddenly don’t want to run away. Suddenly, I want to stay here, with you, in this coldness, and this darkness, and this mysterious feeling of hopelessness and relevance at the same time.

Suddenly, I am looking at people and sigh with relief at how beautiful they are. I am smiling as my heart is so full of loving them. For the first time in many years, I do not want to run away; I want to stay here.

Thank you Jad for sharing

I’m so dazzled by this little 48 seconds of my friend playing oud and someone singing, it’s been on repeat since yesterday at 2am (my brain decided my morning starts at 2am today) and it’s making me so happy, so happy.

I’m having kind of hectic-before-the-holidays days, which I’m okay with because I feel so content, so no complaining here. I do want to write again and I need to share my thoughts and reflections on this year, maybe today? Or tomorrow.

We’ll speak soon. For now I got to turn off my computer, leave office and start running around. For now, I’m leaving you with this perfection.

انت نهاري، ليل انتظاري، حديثي كلو عنّك انت

My little dress

Does mean yes

My body is not

An object you caress

It is not a desire

Nor a toy for you to mess

I do not need to say no

So you can suppress

I am not an item

For you to relieve your stress

If I did not bluntly say yes

You have no right to undress

I am not a sex icon

Nor an audience to impress

I do not like your looks

And for your biceps I could care less

If I want you I would express

And if I don’t

You leave with no distress

Do not touch me

I am no oppress

I shall wear a mini skirt

A sports bra

Abaya

Tight jeans

Or a hijab

But all of this 

Does not mean yes

Today is kind of those days, the mystic ones

Hi there,

I just noticed that I haven’t posted anything here for four days, not sure why. Life, I guess?

Update on Thursday; it was a really good day. It’s always a good day when I’m out of the office and doing more fieldwork and seeing the people we are impacting; it’s the breather I truly needed.

Have I ever mentioned to you how much I love visiting the houses of people? Walking in their things, getting the chance to see life in their shoes, getting to hear their stories through their little bookshelves or that one chair they sit in.

Especially if it’s someone you love, it becomes more of “wow, I want to meet their mum, I want to see the littlest thing that indicates they were here, I want to hear and see and touch everything that has anything to do with them.”

Anyway.

I got to be part of the Christmas of four families over the weekend. How beautiful is that? I got to decorate their tree, wash their dishes, set up the table, the lights; I got to talk to them, I got to listen to their stories.

There is nothing more wonderful than people, than being there to people that need you. I don’t see it as selfless because it’s so rewarding; being there for people, it brings more peace than we might even deserve.

I’m in so much peace right now. The wind is cold and brushing my cheeks delicately, and I’m wearing my wool jacket and waiting for the sunset—song on repeat: Si Je Perds – ZAZ. I am in a whole different world; I am so mystic that you can’t reach me.

Two of my friends dreamt of me this week; one dreamt that I was some kind of a manager, and the other dreamt that he visited me in my “castle” using my helicopter because my castle can’t be reached except by a helicopter.

Lol. I love my friends, and I love the way they see me. They think so highly of me even though I am the worst in this friends life, I have a hard time committing to people, and I often am too much of everything that I can go on for weeks without talking to them. I can take them for granted a lot, and then when I lose them, I get upset because I loved their existence in my life, but I’m, I don’t know.

I was apologizing to my friend, who I love so much and who now lives in Canada, because I always promise her to call and I never do, and she said something that I’m still thinking of.

“You are a free spirit; you don’t like to be bounded or put in any frame; you like to stay free, flying outside the cage, and landing whenever you want. To be bounded by a friend and having to ask about them? Being put in that photo frame of happy friends? I can’t imagine how bounding that could make me feel.”

That kind of made sense, a lot. The only thing I’m not so sure of is being a free spirit, even though I get called that a lot. I am more structured than I like to be, and I can be so uptight in so many different ways, but yes, do not put me in any frame, and if I asked to be left alone or wanted my personal space, you better give me that.

There are still 4 minutes till sunset, but I’m not sure I’ll get to see it; there are a lot of clouds, and the only thing I could see for now is a tiny light behind the many many clouds. That’s okay; I could still feel the sunset, the “give me your pain, all your pain, let it set with me” feeling I get during sunsets.

It’s one of those nights

It’s one of those nights, I guess, where I’m too tired, and I can’t seem to find any happiness in the world.

It’s okay; I was bound to have a relapse; I expected it. It’s not major anxiety, just small levels of that, so that’s great, and I’m so grateful, but it’s just major sadness over everything, really, over everything.

It’s one of those nights where Between The Bars is on repeat, and for those who don’t know, this is my major depression song. I first heard in Skins (remember Skins? When Effy Stonem was religion and Freddie dying was the saddest thing you experienced?) at 14. I can’t remember the scene where this song started playing, but I remember thinking of how facile and beautiful it is, and I remember that it made me sad, and it still does, and it’s on repeat tonight.

Let us live in the moment; I keep telling myself. Let us be here, now, just right here. Let me sit at the top of a hill and watch the sun sets over the city and then admire the skyline and attempt to take a photo of it. Let me be with you now and not think of how I’ll lose you tomorrow.

But I’m finding it hard to live my moments because here I am, the day after, and it’s all gone, and you’re going, and I’m back to listening to Between The Bars with a very sad heart and with me crying next to a Christmas tree.

Here I am, binge eating a big bag of chips, drinking my tea, heater turned on keeping my always freezing feet warm, with lights turned off, and warm lights coming from the Christmas tree lights, and Elliot Smith singing to my ears, telling me that there is no reason to feel happy.

There is an Unica chocolate bar sitting beside me, taunting me to eat it, as if the 8 Unicas I ate today were not enough, as if the disgusting big bag of chips in my hand is not enough to make me feel like the ugliest person on earth.

I couldn’t even take a shower. I was just about to get into a hot shower, hoping to wash away all the agony of the world, and as I was opening the faucets, no hot water came down. It turns out that the hot water faucet broke that moment, and I couldn’t shower.

Honestly, what’s the point of it all? Of feeling happy and then feeling miserable for a longer time? What’s the point of living if it’s a vicious cycle of infinite dilemma and anguish and many nights of big bags of chips and a repulsed stomach? What’s the point of living, if it’s only to feel pain?

I wish God listens to me when I tell him that I need to die, but he doesn’t, and I’m still stuck here trying to figure a way to survive all of this melancholy without having to sit beside a Christmas tree and listen to Elliot Smith.

Yesterday was really good; I had a smooth day at work, and I had friends come over for a movie night, which made my heart very happy. I don’t know what happened today; I don’t know why everything I ever felt the past 3 weeks is almost gone.

Tomorrow I’m on a field mission with work, and I should be very nervous about it, but I’m too sad to think about it, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

I’ll also be seeing my friends at night, from university, whom I love, so it should be okay too. It should be okay? I should be okay.

I’m just really tired, and I didn’t have any caffeine all day, except for the tea right now, and I think I have a runny nose. Is it symptoms of COVID-19? I keep getting these now and then and getting paranoid over the virus. I’m not even sure if it’s really symptoms or it’s all in my head. I guess I’ll have to wake up tomorrow and see.

Drink up baby, look at the stars
I’ll kiss you again, between the bars
Where I’m seeing you there with your hands in the air
Waiting to finally be caught
Drink up one more time, and I’ll make you mine
Keep you apart, deep in my heart
Separate from the rest, where I like you the best
And keep the things you forgot
People you’ve been before
That you don’t want around anymore
That push and shove and won’t bend to your will
I’ll keep them still

Between the Bars – Elliot Smith

I hope you’re having a happier Wednesday.

I am so much like you in ways you can’t understand

It’s weird how much you affect me.

I saw you today, and I realized that you affect me a lot. I talk a lot like you, I act a lot like you, and I am beginning to feel the way I think you do. It’s odd, right? To start feeling the same way somebody else feels about things. I know identification; I just never thought it could go this far.

Your influence on me is so bizarre because ever since I met you, we both were so bizarre, and I don’t know how we lasted or why I still count days to see you or why I still use your words, but you influence me a lot.

It’s still there, the feeling I get when you’re in a room, like a camera focusing on one body and blurring everything else in the room; that’s how I feel whenever you are around me. I lose my sense of listening or seeing anyone but you. It’s like when you appear; everything stops existing; it’s only you.

I love the way you talk or act; I do, it’s not like other people, and it’s unique. I find myself studying your every move because I know it will be different, and I know it will be unpredictable. I find myself in an enigma of trying to understand you yet personally preferring you stay this way, someone that I can’t predict what their next move would be.

Today wasn’t my favorite time seeing you; it was normal, and even below normal. I didn’t see you much anyway, but I noticed the way you looked at me that one time as if I’m special, as if there was no one but me. I saw your eyes smiling, and I loved that a lot.

I love it when you talk to me, and I can’t help but remember if I felt this way the very first time I saw you, and maybe thought to myself; “hey, he talks so special, let me study his every move,” or if this interest struck me after, after all that happened.

Why am I like this? Anticipating everything and still getting so happy to see you. I shouldn’t, I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t understand you, and it’s painfully mind-blowing. Can you help me understand the way you feel towards me? Can I, please, know what you want of me? And can you, for the love of gods and everything almighty, talk to me more?

I saw you today, and it made me think a lot, of you, of me, of us. I thought of you because you ever are so charming, and I thought of me because you affect me so much; it’s study-worthy, and I thought of us because, damn, what are we?

Can we please go back?

A proud skylark

I wrote this inspired by one of my favorite poems (ask me about it, if interested):

You are trembling my dear but this is not what I meant
When I told you what they said to me and how it felt
That time I saw you late at night so heaven sent
They said you’re a beast, a creature so hell-bent

It drove me away, the way they described your lazy eyes
They told me you lurk whiskey and you smell like ugly lies
You laugh with yellow teeth and an ego I despise
Your shirts are thrifted and your shoes are incise

They said you’re no good but I needn’t be wary
As you don’t come close, you distance, very
Then why do you sit next to me, it’s scary
Why did you come close in this huge lonely ferry

You’re trembling my dear, as I tell you what they spoke
Do I hand you a cigarette? Do you crave a last smoke?
I won’t hide my hate for you and I don’t mean to provoke
But how can you be so beastly? I hope you choke

Love of my life, you hurt me
I’ve been trying to get away, to be free
It is true what they spoke, but I couldn’t see
That you are a sin and all this, it mustn’t be

I hope you die because I can’t rid of you any other way
I know you’re a predator and I was a passing prey
But I still prefer you than a world with you away
I still choose you over me any gloomy day

You are trembling my dear for you stand defeated
You told me you are toxic, and very much conceited
But you didn’t tell me about your victims and how they were treated
You told me you are no good but then my intuition you greeted

I know you are soulless because of what she did
You gave your all and she left you amid
She took your favorite sweater and away she slid
And ever since then you cut out hearts to feel vivid

She wore her red lipstick and gave you a smile
As if you’re socks that got out of style
She kissed you goodbye and you lingered for a while
In trauma, you wondered: how can I survive?

You look at your victim’s eyes and all you see is hers
You cry as there is much melancholy your heart bears
And then another girl smiles at you, a wink she even dares
And you think: let me fill my lustful void with theirs

So you kill to get over her and you chose me to kill
But I know what you are, so ugly and so ill
So I think of killing my own self, to jump a hill
I won’t let you get to me, your revenge to fulfill

You are trembling my dear for you will get your desire
I stand at the top of the bridge and I look at you with ire
I loved you a lot, I still do it’s dire
But I won’t let you kill me, I’ll be my own misfire

You are trembling my dear for you realize what you have done
She threw you to the wolves, left you undone
And you wanted to do the same with me, kill and run
So I chose to jump off the bridge on my own, I will be gone

You were beautiful my dear, an angel in the dark
Wears cheap perfume, it stains and leaves a mark
I won’t be very far away, I’ll be a skylark
So every time you see a skylark you say:
Here lies the girl that loves me, and there flies the proud skylark

I finished my coffee challenge and I’m happy about it

Hello.

This is me getting back on my coffee challenge for this week. I finished it, and I loved it because 1) it helped me finish tasks I should’ve finished weeks ago in the areas where the coffee shops are, and 2) I got to drink coffee.

I’ll be breaking down the list of coffees I tried this week; the story behind the coffee shop, and the coffee itself, but before all of that, I have a few disclaimers to start with:

Disclaimer #1 my knowledge of coffee is zero. I love drinking diverse coffee, but I have no academic background in anything coffee-related, and I don’t find myself appreciating high-end coffee; I only know that Ethiopean black coffee is an amazing energy boost because my waiter friend at my old favorite coffeeshop (now closed) would tell me; “looks like you’re staying here for a while, let me get you an Ethiopian black coffee to stay awake.”

I’m just a very coffee drinker enthusiast, and I love trying all kinds of coffee. Thereby, my feedback is purely based on illiteracy and my love for coffee shops and the aforementioned.

Disclaimer #2 I’m not sure yet, but I might have missed the blissful sparkle I was feeling last week, but I’m not sure yet. I know that having Black and Breaking The Habit on repeat isn’t a good sign, but I’ll try to keep this as cheerful or neutral from whatever I’m feeling as possible.

Day 1; Starbucks

First things first, no, I don’t love Starbucks for its glamour; I genuinely love their coffee, I genuinely find it so good. My favorite is Caramel Macchiato, and it’s absolutely addictive, much to my pocket’s despair.

Any notable story: Just one. It was back in June of this year, and it was during my 4 days anxiety blackouts. I left home at 6 pm on terrible terms, and I had work outside of Beirut, and I could not stop crying all the way. When I finished, it was already 9pm, and I knew I could not go back home.

I waited 30mins until I found a car, with 3 men inside, that agreed to get me to a place close to Beirut. They let me ride with them until I found a bus, which took me to a place close to a Starbucks. Not having anything to eat since morning, I got myself a Caramel Macchiato and walked another 30mins to my best friend’s old abandoned house that I had the keys to (I spent the night there, but that’s a story for another time). I felt like death, and the only warmness was my coffee, so thank you, @starbucks (sponsor me, will ya?).

Day 2; Concierge

Concierge is a cute little coffee shop in Badaro, with a very cozy interior and perfect quietness for studying/working remotely. I had Caramel Macchiato, which tasted good, but not how I remember it used to taste like.

Any notable story: Concierge was the last place I went out to before the March COVID-19 lockdown. I had happy moments there, but they need to brew their coffee the way they used to.

Day 3; Backburner

The reason why I chose Backburner is to try a new coffee shop that has been on my list for a while. I tried their Spanish Latte; it’s good; the coffee is a bit intense but in a pleasant way, but it was way too sweet, which I later discovered is one of the specialties for Spanish Latte.

Any notable story: Not much, but I met our head of office’s husband there, so that was a bit awkward. I also tried out their chocolate chip cookie, which was INSANELY expensive, and I regretted not asking for its price before I bought it.

The size of my overly expensive cookie. Look at the size.

Day 4; B Hive

B Hive might be the busiest coffee shop in all of Beirut, maybe as crowded as Sip. I love their B Hive Latte, and I love their friendly waiters, who I for sure find more common topics with than the husband of my head of office.

Any notable story: old B Hive, the one in a building with a small nice garden and a snug upstairs studying area, was my to-go studying coffeeshop at university because it was quiet and because my friend liked it. I don’t get how people still can study and work in it now with all the crowding and buzz.

Day 5; a coffee from a street espresso

We all know this only tastes good when we are cold, thirsty, hungry, or not feeling okay. I personally love it a lot when they don’t overdo it with Coffee-Mate and condensed milk.

Any notable story: I never enjoyed street coffee until 3ammo Abu Mohammad, our coffee guy from FoodBlessed’s office. He might be more home to us than our actual homes, went through so much with us, so many days where we ate nothing and only drank his coffee. “It’s 3000 LBP for everyone, but it’s 2500 LBP for you,” he tells us every time. (It’s 2500 LBP for everyone)