Month: November 2024

It’s been four days since the ceasefire. It’s been so heavy, so agonizing, so surreal that I can describe it but I am not allowing myself to feel. I haven’t cried once.

I can’t bring myself to reflect back on the last two months, and I can’t bring myself to think of what is coming. I can’t bring myself to feel whatever we should be feeling, because I am so scared. I’m terrified in a way my bones ache. But I am at peace.

It’s like I have been carrying my weight and everyone’s weight on my shoulders. And on the morning of the ceasefire, all this weight was gone. I felt so much lighter. I ate with so much joy, I rode a motorcycle for three hours, I walked my baby nephew under the rain. I felt terrified. and I felt peace.

Today, I was driving my car and I put music on the radio. It was the first time since the war began. It finally felt right. We sang along and I sped and I looked to my right, to the road that leads to my house in Dahyeh, and for the first time in two months, I didn’t feel like if I mistakenly went to the right I will be swallowed by the darkness.

It’s over. The fear of loved ones getting killed, the fear of losing my house, my childhood, my neighborhood. The fear of feeling selfish and privileged for being alive. The feeling of being stuck in an abyss, it’s gone now.

I haven’t sat once with myself since all this started, and even before. And I can’t dare to think of sitting with myself. Even during the night, I would go to bed very sleepy that staying awake is an effort on its own. I only sat once on my own that one time the day after my birthday; but I wasn’t really alone. A dark enigma sat next to me and fed off my flesh and skin. It drained idyll from my body and replaced it with pain. So it really doesn’t count as being alone.

My life should be back to notmal soon, I hope. Right now I feel like I don’t have a routine anymore, which scared me, and I am rushing by. But I will fi myself. I promise. I’ll go back to being closer to normal; I just don’t know when.

But I am glad it’s over. And I am so very glad of the inner peace I feel, of the olive branch on my arm. I am so very glad you exist in my life. I would not have endured this without you.

I’ve been trying to write for a while but my words feel so heavy, it’s been so hard to write. Even though I have so, so much to say.

I’m not an easy person, I know that. I’ve never been easy to understand or deal with, and I never felt truly understood and I never knew how to fully explain myself without portraying myself as a freak. I know I can be a handful, and I know I can be so demanding and so insecure, but I promise you I’m worthwhile. I promise you I am not always like this. It’s just this while I am a little vulnerable and I just need some safety to go by. I promise once I feel safe again I will be normal-ish again, I promise my obsessiveness will disappear and my clinginess will ease up and I will be bearable again.

But I would understand if you prefer to leave. I understand that I may be too much and that you’re already dealing with your demons you don’t need me to make it worse. I understand if you decide I am too depressive and I am too tiring and you don’t want anything to do with me. It’s okay if you want to leave, everyone leaves me eventually.

See I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t understand it and I do not feel like I have the luxury of therapy these days. I am in constant fear of getting an anxiety attack that every time my heart hurts, every time I am nauseas, every time I am triggered, the fear of anxiety makes me anxious and that is where it gets worse.

But it’s just so dark, and I feel so lonely. I don’t know what is happening to me, I don’t know how I can help myself. It’s so so difficult for me to ask for help, and it agonizes me when I an pleading for someone to help me and no one cares. I know I may not say it out loud, but I know I have signs and I just want you to be able to understand my signs because I am really, really hurting.

And I am so sorry. I’m so sorry for throwing all this at you. You don’t have to deal with all this. But I don’t know what to do. I am drowning and I just need someone to pull my hand up. It’s been so uncertain and the instability is deafening and I am trying so hard to cope but the heavy weight on my back keeps pushing me down.

And all I want is to sleep.

hey

I come to you as a last resort because they say lonely people, or people feeling alone, often come to you and you make them feel better. Don’t get me wrong, I also like you. I think you’re gorgeous, but I never know how to give you what I carry.

And you take so much. No? Has anyone ever took from you, helped you carry all the things people throw at you? Is this why you always push us out whenever we go in? I’m sorry that we’re so selfish, we keep expecting you to give us but we never give you anything in return. But see we’re so much alike. It’s just that you’re way prettier than me, and people like you so much more than they like me.

I’m sitting a few meters away from you because the closer I get to you the heavier the sun is and I hate the sun so I am sitting under a shade. But I’m still here, if you’d like to talk. Sometimes I’m a good listener whenever my head is not so much up my ass.

I can see an old bald man with a big belly that just took a dip, and right now he’s just walking close to you, with his hands behind on his back, looking at me because I look weird.

He just went back in. I think he didn’t have enough of you yet. I keep telling you you’re irresistible but you don’t believe me. I know you’re dirty and people say you make them sick sometimes. But we’re all a bit dirty from the inside, so it’s fine.

Hey, a black dog just sat next to me. So casually as if we’ve been best friends since 2001. Hey doggie, I hope you’re here just to relax. I hope you’re not sad or anything, and if you are it’s ok, that makes three of us, I guess.

The dog just looked at me and then put his head down and closed his eyes. I did that a few minutes ago too, but I couldn’t sleep, I hope you’re of a better luck!

The dog is as black as I am right now, at least because I am wearing black too. Maybe that’s why he chose me? Because I look like him. They always tell me I have puppy eyes, so I think he just decided that I’m his new friend, and I’m happy with that. Maybe that’s what I need to have in my life, a dog. They’re so loyal and loving, you don’t have to tell them when you’re not feeling well they just know, and they would never leave.

Did you send the dog? You sneaky little bastard. Trying to help me feel better. Now I understand why people like you so much. You’re so caring. Thank you for this. You made me stop crying.

I think I would never live anywhere near you, so you’re not always right in front of my eyes and so I don’t get used to you. I would always leave you as my last resort, because I know you carry so much and I wouldn’t want to overburden you.

The dog just left, and the old man just put on his shirt and is also started walking away. The bugs are fying around me more annoyingly, and I just killed an ant on my hand, and the sun is getting closer to me and another dog is barking at another dog. I just stopped my music and I can hear you, but not very clearly because the MK is wizzing. Is this your way to tell me I need to leave too?

Can you give me 15 more mins? I need a bit more time and I’m leaving I promise.

A guy just sat a few meters away from. He’s drinking coffee and just said hi to me. You do know how to kick me out don’t you. I think i’ll leave now, I did enough talking for today.

I have a problem with beginnings.

Not in the poetic kind of way, but just beginnings in general. Like for example the first paragraph of a blog – how should I begin? Why can’t I just start from the middle?

Beginnings are horrible. They’re scary and unclear. But endings are even worse. Why can’t we just stay in the middle?

I think we suffer greatly when we begin, and then ache when we end. Whether it’s starting a job or losing a job, starting a friendship or losing a friendship, starting a new life and ending an old life. Both are pain, in their own way.

And I am stuck here. Where I feel like everything is ending but nothing is beginning. I feel like I’m being thrown off a plane, with the pilot telling me that once I jump to the sky, they’ll throw me a parachute. But who’s to know if i’ll be catching the parachute? No guarantee.

And you know what happens when I feel like I am losing a piece of me? I become self destructive, and I would destroy everything nice in my life because the loss is too much for me to function normally so I decide to greaten my loss and lose everything I touch and built, and everyone I cared about.