The Crazy in the Photo

It’s been a Bones marathon at our house for the past few months and since we are people that love our blood, gore, corpses and absence of emotional content very much, we’ve been quite happy and satisfied. That is until two nights ago when I watched episode 9 ‘The Doctor in the Photo’. Remember when I said lack of emotional and dramatic content is a key factor to my escape tv? Well, that episode broke the rule. I’ve been hashing and rehashing in my mind plot lines and quotes from the episode:

Sweets: The mental analysis of Lauren Eames: She was highly controlling and she was stressed …. To deal with this, she emotionally detached herself and made herself to not care. In order to start feeling nothing, she began behaving erratically, in order to feel something – anything…

You may not be a Bones fan and I wouldn’t blame you so I’m not going to go into details about the episode. The above lines are self explanatory anyway.

Normally I watch episodes and then forget them a minute later. Which makes following highly plot based stories a huge nightmare. But this one touched something and it made me stop and think. About regrets (which I convince myself that I have none of) and about emotions – or lack of.
I’m not an emotional type, whether by nature or by an excellent suppression system I’ve highly developed and perfected over the years, beats me.
I can’t deal with pain. Subconsciously and almost automatically I push it aside and bury it somewhere deep inside. It’s gotten to the point where I stop feeling and stop thinking.

And when the character of the psychologist Sweets said the above mental analysis a ping set off in the back of my brain. Aside from the anger and frustration issues that I have, the rest if it is me! The adrenaline rush and pursuit of any kind of thrill; roller coasters, bungee jumping, hanging outside window ledges from 10 storey buildings. And these were no easy feats for a girl with motion sickness and a fear of heights. And let’s not go into the self-cutting. Maybe I was just looking to feel anything.

Hopefully I’m older and wiser now. And I am trying to make a conscious effort to stop the logical rationalization. There will be times where I will mentally stop myself with
‘No you are not pushing that aside. You need to stop and think how you feel.’

To wrap up…

Micah: How’d it work out? Brennan: I listened to the universe. I felt something. I’m sad. Micah: That’s so much better than dead. Or even dead inside.


Breakdown of the Mommy

I’ve been gone an embarrassingly long time. Drowning and ebbing between bouts of depression and handling a house and kids (sometimes I feel I should never have gotten kids) I am barely staying afloat and breathing.

So I stopped blogging. Partly because I can’t handle the pressure of another to-do. But mainly because in my whirlpool of self-pity I’m torturing and punishing myself by avoiding things that make me happy.

Anyway, I will be back – but in awhile… I need some me time desperately. And obviously my life as it is now is not really working – you can tell by the screaming, unkempt maniac I’ve become. So, I’m seriously and aggressively looking for a day care for Jo. For him as well as me. He needs structured play and a person who is happy to spend time with him. Not a depressed mommy who just wants to be left alone. And that will hopefully give me the down time I need to be me and do things I want, after which I’ll be happy to see my kids and husband. Happy to spend time with them. Happy to smile in their faces.

So once I get that in place, I’ll be back to this blog. I’ll also be doing some major changes around here. I’ll be keeping this blog for writing, thoughts and personal photography and I’ll be starting a new baking, cooking and crafts blog – with an Middle Eastern & Islamic festivities and celebrations vibe (at least that’s what I hope – keep those fingers crossed).

So until then (which I pray to God is close), sallam (Arabic for a casual good bye that is not for long) and may the force be with you.

Nothing Else Matters


On the outside the world is crashing past me. But I’m not there. I don’t know if I ever was. I’ve distanced myself and become disenchanted and dissociated from life.

This is my sanctuary; the deep dark box hidden inside my soul. The hole where I throw my worries and thoughts and drown them with indifference. Welcome to my world.

Where alienation and detachment rule with a heavy hand and caring too much may mean a an instant descent into madness and pain.

My oasis is constantly shrouded in night, shadows fighting to be set free. It’s deep and encompassing, with it’s swirls of shadowy carelessness reaching into the bitter corners of my soul and killing the last kernels of involvement.

This sanctuary may be filled with trapped demons and dark secrets but it’s mine my place. Where I go to recover and lick my wounds. And from where I emerge stronger, better and ready to take on the world even if I’m not really a part of that world.

Written in response to the Daily Prompt: Oasis.


How to Not Change Into The Hulk


Don’t worry – be happy!

Okay, I did it! I saw that therapist today. And it was as useful to me as trying to shave my legs upside down (don’t ask me where that came from). So I walked out of that office tot he Tim Horton’s in the lobby where my husband was gratefully minding a sleeping J during my appointment. Did I mention how grateful and appreciative I am of my hubby? How he has had to put up with crazy, insane, all-over the place me the past few months (or was it the past few years)? And not once has he complained or commented on anything. Although he has been pushing pretty hard for me to see the crazy doctor therapist.

So anyway, I digress, back to me walking into Tim Horton’s and meeting that husband of mine.

“How did it go?”he asked

“Useless. She didn’t help at all.” I catch him smirking which means I take back all the grateful crap I said earlier “What are you laughing at?”

“This is so typically you.” he offers with an apologetic smile “She didn’t help at all? You didn’t like her? So will you see her again or will you see someone else”

I ponder on that for a bit “I don’t hate her. I don’t like her. She’s neutral; I un-nothing her.”

“Well that’s an improvement in itself. The fact that you didn’t loath the therapist on the spot and are not telling me now how unqualified she is means we’re getting somewhere. So seriously, tell me, did she tell you anything at all?”

So to appease him and make me seem less uncooperative I told him in detail about the 45 minutes session where I proceeded to state the cold hard facts in a bored voice poured my heart out and all the questions she asked. I also told him how she wanted me to listen to my ‘inner thoughts’ and pinpoint the early warning signs of anger. Before I proceed, I have a question; where the hell do they teach counsellors this crap. I’ve been to three different therapists over my lifetime, over two continents and they always say the same exact words. Do they give them a manual when they go to therapy school and tell them to follow the directions exactly?

1. Patient walks in.

2. Appear interested, nod head, listen.

3. Tell patient to take slow deep breathes when upset or angry

4. If doesn’t work, tell patient to look for physical cues

5. If this doesn’t work, tell patient to listen to ‘inner triggers’.

6. If this doesn’t work, kick patient out and proceed to instruction number 1.

Now I’m going to ignore looking for physical cues, because you know, obviously, everyone turns big, green, muscular and as cute as Mark Ruffalo when they get angry. My biggest problem i actually listening to my ‘inner trigger’ or ‘inner thoughts’. Being the crazy person that I am, I learned to squash those thoughts ages ago. Much like my husband when he decides to complain about my ability to focus on anything, I learned to totally ignore those thoughts. In fact I can’t hear them at all anymore. Which is a good thing, because imagine how much crazier I would be if those thoughts were running around my head. So no I’m purely a ‘no-thinking, just-action’ type of gal. Which would mean looking for the thinking before the action would just seem useless.

At the end, even though I know it to be totally untrue, I guess I was looking for a magic cure when I walked in today. And no-magic-cure-coming made me a little disappointed. I will try working on the behavioral modifications though and maybe go back and visit the un-nothing therapist which I don’t think will really help just so I can tell my husband a big, fat ‘I-told-you-so’ somewhere in the future.

Greetings From Planet Krango

When was the last time you felt really, truly lonely? For me it depends, are we talking physically? Or you know, cyber-space like?

Why am I asking? Because you can be physically, heart-wrenchingly alone. No one for miles to tell you bless you if you sneezed, yet you feel warm, soft and loved. Surrounded by people who care. Or you can be seeing people day-in and day-out, talking frivolous chit-chat with people on the train, with your husband at dinner or with your kids on the walk home from school, but deep-down inside you feel like you’re caught on a barren planet (let’s call it Krango) where there is no-one else in solar system but you. And that sense of utter and chilling loneliness is slowly suffocating you much like the oxygen-less system you inhibit.

So which one am I? Actually neither and both. I feel blessed to be still connected to my friends and family through technology. Ahhh, Facebook, Instagram, Whatsapp, Viber, Skype …. what would I have done without you? I can still remember our parents taping radio cassettes with their voices and mailing them back to our grandparents so they could stay in touch.

But no matter how much the internet has kept me in touch with my near and dear, it also acts like a stinging ulcer; every time I see them, I’m constantly reminded of the pain of not actually being with them.

On the plus side though, I finally got through to the counseling helpline today and have an appointment tomorrow morning. Although I’m a little skeptical about how much help it will be if I lack the ability to open my heart and talk freely to anyone (this of course doesn’t include you guys reading, because I know that you don’t exist and I’m in essence just talking to myself).

So cheers and peace out.

Shameful Apologies & Confessions

I’ve been bad. Very, very bad.

I’ve been absent for two whole weeks. Even though I promised myself over and over agin I would stick with this thing to the end (like that’s never happened before).

Anyway I have a multitude of reasons that I’ve been gone. The first thing is our container finally arrived from Egypt and I had a houseful of this stuff to take care of:


Ironically I assumed that once our stuff arrived, my house would feel more settled and less depressing. Ironically I found out that I packed way too many clothes and toys and way too little furniture. The only piece of actual furniture we brought with us is a large sectional couch which turned out too big for our living room. So we’re still sitting on cushions on the floor. Looks like this house will be a loong work in progress. Let’s hope we don’t move before I finish – or maybe we move before I start?

The second thing that has kept me very busy is Eid.


Happy Eid to everyone out there who celebrated it. The whole Eid celebration and crafts cooking thing is gonna be a whole (or maybe two) other post, but until then I thought I would make a shameful happy comeback and tell you about a moment I had yesterday. Actually make that two moments.

I was watching the Glee (yes you found out my shameful secret – I like Glee) ‘Break-Up’ episode yesterday and the William/Emma fight scene hit a little bit too close to home. When Emma responds to Will’s query of

“I thought you were supportive of this?”

“I am because I know how much this means to you. But this is for you. I didn’t know you just expected me to drop my entire life…. I don’t want to sit alone in some hotel room somewhere while you’re off fulfilling your dreams.”

It just hit me that this is me. Don’t get me wrong, I approved of this move. Heck I even pushed for it, but I feel that everyone is off fulfilling their dreams while I’m stuck at home after giving up my whole life. Selfish I know. And mean, but what can I do?

Anyway I decided maybe it’s time for professional help to get out of this funk that I’m constantly in. So I manned up and called the counseling help line that my hubby’s work recommended in the re-location package. It took me half an hour of psyching myself and mustering the courage and when I finally did it I got an unanswered dial tone. Go figure.

So I leave you with the promise to be much better and post more frequently. And since I highly doubt a lot of people are reading this, that means I can break my promise easier, right?

Love and cheers

The Radio Ruined My Life Tonight

All day staring at the ceiling
Making friends with shadows on my wall
All night hearing voices telling me that
I should get some sleep
Because tomorrow might be good
For something 
Hold on feeling like I’m heading for a
Break down and I dunno why
I’m not crazy
I’m just a little unwell 
I know right now you can’t tell
But stay awhile and maybe then You’ll see 
A different side of me

Yep, it’s one of those days; a day where the struggle to battle depression and homesickness gets harder and harder. Being prone to strong bouts of depression is not a good thing to bring to a major life change like the cross-global move I just did. Some days it’s a struggle to get out of bed, others it’s not so bad. But I had been making some progress on the ‘trying-to-keep-upbeat’ front, mainly ever since re-starting this blog. I guess having a sense of purpose helps. But then yesterday my husband ‘accidentally’ reset my IPhone and I lost all the photos on it that I was working on for today’s post. Which means I subsequently lost it too. I got so mad and sad, it’s unnerving. I know I’m blowing things out of proportion but I just can’t pull myself above water again. And there is one person to blame for all this; the radio

The radio has not been helping. I usually listen to a lite FM station at home; mainly old and popular upbeat songs that will be fine for the kids to listen and dance to. Their tag-line even reads ‘The feel good station’. But they have definitely not been helping me feel good this morning. Playing songs like Matchbox’s Unwell (above) has been pulling me under even more. And it’s all because of that darn radio.

Yes, I’m petty and small and blaming the radio. After all, isn’t that better than blaming my husband?

Runaway Train

So tired that I couldn’t even sleep
So many secrets I couldn’t keep
Promised myself I wouldn’t weep
One more promise I couldn’t keep

It seems no one can help me now
I’m in too deep
There’s no way out
This time I have really led myself astray

Runaway train never going back
Wrong way on a one way track
Seems like I should be getting somewhere
Somehow I’m neither here nor there

Can you help me remember how to smile
Make it somehow all seem worthwhile
How on earth did I get so jaded
Life’s mystery seems so faded

I can go where no one else can go
I know what no one else knows
Here I am just drownin’ in the rain
With a ticket for a runaway train

Everything is cut and dry
Day and night, earth and sky
Somehow I just don’t believe it

Bought a ticket for a runaway train
Like a madman laughin’ at the rain
Little out of touch, little insane
Just easier than dealing with the pain

Runaway train never comin’ back
Runaway train tearin’ up the track
Runaway train burnin’ in my veins
Runaway but it always seems the same

I had my alternative rock genius mix on during my daily (or at least my try-to-be daily) walk today and Runaway Train by Soul Asylum came up. I know it’s very old and a little cheesy but I still listened to it three times. It heard a very melancholy note inside me, kind of seemed going with my mood the past month. So here I am deciding to share the gloom and post the lyrics.

PS I dropped the first verse in case anyone is looking