Author: Nour Abdul Reda

BA in Journalism, MA in Communication Sciences. Writer, dreamer, peacemaker.
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Sing me to sleep

Today I can’t seem to get myself out of the bed, I am finding it so difficult to carry the lump as it is so so heavy. I opened my eyes and I could feel tears coming out of my eyes as if it’s been a long day and it was actually still 7am. And my legs wouldn’t move and my hands just rested on my chest and my heart keeps hurting and all I could think of is The Smiths song “Asleep”.

In Asleep, Morissey says 

Sing me to sleep
I'm tired and I
I want to go to bed
Sing me to sleep
And then leave me alone
Don't try to wake me in the morning
'Cause I will be gone
Don't feel bad for me
I want you to know
Deep in the cell of my heart
I will feel so glad to go
Sing me to sleep
Deep in the cell of my heart
I really want to go
There is another world
There is a better world
Well, there must be
Well…
Bye, bye
Bye…

I don’t usually listen to it, for very obvious triggering reasons. But interestingly enough, whenever the lump is so painful that I cannot breathe, this song starts playing in my head, as if it were the background music of my life, and as if I needed a more depressing setting to complement the darkness I feel from the inside. And this morning I woke up thinking of Morissey when he first wrote this song and how loud the longing feeling of desire to escape felt in that moment, to a point where it was just so peaceful that the music was composed as a lullaby, romanticizing death and going away.

And I often stop at “There is a better world… there must be” and I start nodding my head because this is what I always tell myself and everyone around me, there must be a better life, or maybe a better way of living.

See I am sure there is a better way of living, but I don’t think I even know how to have fun like normal people. I am a very boring person and the things I enjoy are very boring and probably the only person who actually enjoys them is me. I don’t know how to dance; I’m too shy, and I don’t know how to be adventurous or spontaneous, or caught up in the moment. I know how to be uptight and full of feelings and making you feel like you are sitting with a 65 years old. And because I am too boring I am often scared of losing people because I am sure they will find someone who is more interesting and fun and they will forget about me, while I am still stuck in my bed struggling to get myself up.

Maybe I am fun and I don’t know it, I don’t know what nice things I have, maybe I can remember in other times, but now I don’t and it’s been a while I haven’t heard it from someone else, but it’s okay, people aren’t expected to say nice things to each other all the time. Maybe I need to get myself out of bed and see people to know…

Let this be the last time I write about this. Let it be my last days of struggling and tomorrow I wake up feeling like I could carry the lump and everything around it like I am the fucking champion of a wrestling competition. Let it be the last time (for now at least) that my legs feel so heavy that taking myself out of bed would be the biggest achievement I did this week.

Deep in the cell of my heart, I really want to go

Deep in the cell of my heart, I will feel so glad to go

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sunflowers

get me out of this sunflower farm
get me out of the sunflowers bright
it’s so sunny
it’s so green
it’s so light
it’s everything
i am not
and it’s terrifying
because i am left here
alone
with pretty things
and i don’t deserve pretty things
and i am left here
alone
with sunflowers
and i don’t deserve sunflowers
and i am left here
alone
with so much green
and i don’t deserve green
and i am left here
alone
with so much life

anyone wants to color mandalas with me?

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Ginny & Georgia

I just finished Ginny and Georgia, and my gen z sister made fun of me when she knew I watch Ginny and Georgia because gen z says it’s “cringe” but honestly fuck gen z for labeling everything I find meaningful as cringe because that show is powerful. My favorite moment of the show? When Georgia finds out that Ginny burns herself and Georgia breaks down in front of Ginny telling her: “give it to me, okay? You give all that pain to me. I can handle it.”

And I’m kind of okay with the episode finale, to a point I was kind of hoping it’s the season finale but apparently they are already in the making of a new season. I’m not big for sad shows and a lot of crying, but I absolutely love shows with powerful mental health messages, shows that portray mental issues as the way they are without sugarcoating. For example, I really expected the writers to write off Marcus’s depression as something that was healed by a deep talk or a morning sunshine, but they didn’t, and it was so emotional to see how much he struggled, and how much everyone around him struggled because they wanted to help but didn’t know how, and they wanted to to understand but they couldn’t. And how badly he wanted to get better.

Anyway. I am trying to get better myself, I promise. I worked out (!) this morning and took a shower, and started completing my humanitarian learning module for this week. I tried out all the clothes I got in the past few days, and put on new nail polish. I am even writing all this down to document it, and now I’m going to get the birthday cake of my baby nephew who’s turning two today, and then heading off to my sister’s to celebrate him.

Update, I just got back from my sister’s, and it was nice. We got him so many presents and a cake with an excavator icing and he was just over the moon. He was so shy when we sang him happy birthday, and he kept asking us to light the candles so he can blow them off, and he kept putting grapes on his cake. It was nice, I just wish I could enjoy it without the lump.

It keeps getting bigger, and the bigger it is the heavier I feel, the harder for me to smile, the more painful for me to navigate. I need it to go away, I am doing everything I can to make it go away, but this time it’s just so stubborn, this time it’s so painful.

“I am all the days
That you choose to ignore”

This is a lyrics from a song I keep singing whenever I am feeling this way. It gives me comfort, though it is melancholy. You know what it says after it says I am all the days that you choose to ignore?

“You’re all I need”

and then a music solo.

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gum

the lump’s only getting bigger with time
it goes away sometimes and other times it just comes so strong
attacking all my organs
my sense of being
my sense of feeling
my sense of making sense
it tells me to self sabotage
it tells me to hurt myself
because hurting myself
is so much better
than hurting those around me

because it tells me i am worthless
i cannot be tolerated
that i am last in line
that i’ll never be good enough
to be ever anything
to be worth
a reply from my therapist

and it hurts so much i cannot describe it
it holds a grip to my heart
and it breaks me
to pieces

and i feel invisible
i feel like a nobody
like an old gum under a desk in a school
it’s been there for so long
it’s disgusting
it’s there
but no one wants to touch it
no one wants to throw it away
if touched, god forbid
it’s so gross
and you’d would probably wash your hands
because if anyone, god forbid, touches it
it’s probably by mistake
and it’s really not a big deal
no one often thinks about it
it’s just
an old gum
under a desk

do you know how it feels to relate to an old old gum, so much?
it kind of sucks
because see even though an old gum is so visible
it screams to you
i am here
i’ve been here for a while
i really need you to look at me
i am stuck
i really need you to take me out
it’s so cold and it’s so lonely and i just feel
so disgusting
i know i am visible
i know i am here
but you keep acting
like i’m so invisible

yesterday he took me to the beach
to watch the sunset
and color mandalas
and i am usually so bad at self care
or even coloring because it actually stresses me out
even yesterday, he was focusing on making it pretty
on what each color resonates in terms of spirit
and it looked so pretty and wise
just like him
and me?
i just wanted to try out all 48 coloring pencils
and i colored with every color until the sun set and i couldn’t see anymore the lines
and i felt bad for not being able to use all 48 coloring pencils
so some were used and some were not and it didn’t feel fair for those who weren’t
because they’re still special, all of them are. but i worry that because they weren’t colored with
that they think they’re not as special
and i felt more bad because i couldn’t remember
which ones i used and which one i didn’t
and i was like nour, you’re such a mess
you had one job
to color with all 48 coloring pencils
and you messed it up because you didn’t care enough to organize them in a way that you could remember

but i also tried to color spiritually
because i just loved the idea and because he’s just so precious
and so i thought about people
and i colored
i colored in yellow
and then in pink
and another in pink
and then in orange
and i loved the blues
i colored in so many blues
but you know which color i colored with the most?
the greens
i used all shades of green
and i didn’t know why then but now that i’m writing this
i think green is mum
it’s her favorite color
and maybe yesterday i just needed so many greens
and i wanted to color white
but all the white was sitting just beside me
and you know what i couldn’t use, ironically?
the black
and i kept thinking, if i use the black
it will make it look ugly
it’ll close the flow of colors because black is just so black
to have black is to ruin colors
and it felt personal and i could feel the lump in my heart poking

but then out of nowhere he says out loud
“you know black is not the color of evil? it’s actually red”
really, out of nowhere
i wasn’t even touching the black coloring pen
and it made me smile
because he understands
he touches the old gum and doesn’t even flinch
he can make the lump goes away
but when he’s not around
it just lurks back so viscously
and i know this can’t be
and sometimes i wonder
but then i remember to stop wondering
maybe my therapist is just busy

but yesterday it felt really good
so peaceful
that all i could think of today
all day
is the mandala
i want to color away
all my pain with

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Another one

there’s a pain in my heart
it’s like a lump but for my heart
and i can’t seem to make it go away
i tried to shop today
i went to my favorite shopping place
the one i loved since i was a teenager
the one i spent hours in trying on expensive outfits in the fitting rooms
with my best friend
and never buying any because they were
so expensive
and i went back today to that same shopping alley
and this time i had money to buy expensive outfits
but i didn’t have my best friend with me
and i could not find anything nice

and i felt that white bird that was always flying around
picking bread crumbs from between the cobbled stones
i found it dead
with its blood all over my hands
and it was no longer chirping anymore
and i still had the lump in my heart
and it is choking me, it’s groping me by the neck
and i cannot breathe
and suddenly i just wished in a heartbeat
to hear the bird chirping again

and so i texted my therapist
who i haven’t gone to for exactly a year
today is my first anniversary of dropping out of therapy
and hell has been breaking loose ever since
and i did try to go back to therapy i think maybe twice
and i thought about it a lot
but i always figured out a way to numb the lump
like hearing birds chirp
or taking myself shopping
or thinking of my best friend
but somehow today i couldn’t
numb the lump

and so my ex-therapist replies saying
the earliest appointment would be mid July
and i texted saying
“i may not need it then” with a sarcastic emoji
and she never texted me back
but she doesn’t understand i wasn’t being rude
or mean

i was just being needy
see this lump, it does go away
one way or another
but in the moment it hurts like a bitch
and the thing is
it never goes away forever
like a snowball it grows
with every numb
every bird
every dress
every loss
and i just couldn’t with it today
i really tried i even listened to all the right music
and i walked
and i spent time with my baby nephew
and i forced myself to eat an apricot
and i shopped without sale
and i was productive
but i still cannot breathe
the lump is so heavy
and i cannot bear it
and i wanted the therapist to help me understand
but she decided to ignore me
she has more important things to do
and that is fine i guess
i just wish i can one day be

as important

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Ceasefire

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.

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Writer’s block

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.

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A friend

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.

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Beginnings

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.

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War diaries

(This was never completed)

It’s war
Today is the 40th day of the war
40 days since it started
40 days since I were 26
40 days since I became 62

I swear to everything
I have grown so much
My back and neck keep hurting
The nerves in my legs are throbbing
My temper has become so short tempered
I am always in the mood for wiseness
And I even chose sleep over you

See, 40 days of war
But 40 years have passed since
I lost so many things
And i’m not talking about my house