So, since I somehow cleared up space in my phone to be able to read my emails, Good Therapy tells me that September is Suicide Prevention Month and they gave me some articles (that I may or may not read at this point). I was just laying down thinking about everything and decided that I'm going to write it down for future references.
I don't like telling people about my mental illnesses because I feel like I'm seeking attention and trying to put myself in the spotlight, but I won't go ahead and lie about it. I'll probably admit that I have depression, but I won't elaborate much unless you're asking for it. And most people do, anyway. I think some people can read it on my face, because I'm so horrible at hiding my feelings all the time. I get asked many times on several occasions; "Are you okay?" or "Do you need help?" or "Do you want me to call the ambulance?" or "Do you want to talk about it?" and such and such. The list keeps going on. But I try to put on a mask anyway, because it gets tiring to get all these questions, and no, I don't want to talk about it. If I did want to talk about it, you're not the person I want to talk to. That's mean, though, but it's true.
I'd like to point out that I have decided to not talk to certain people for some period of time, since my condition is not getting better anytime soon and I don't like saying, "I'm getting progressively worse" every time that it just loses meaning, but it doesn't mean that it isn't true. So if you think I'm avoiding you, I probably am. Not even getting "progressively worse" because I stopped taking my medication and all that, it's just that I'm not even trying to get better anymore. I think I stopped for several months back, even though my doctor tells me that I'm doing a good job. No, I'm not. I'm not doing a good job. Because every time I have to see you for an appointment, I hyperventilate for a good half an hour in the toilet, trying to muster the courage to tell you what's really wrong. And I never do, because even after all this time, I still don't trust you with my condition. And it's silly, to not trust an expert, but I don't anyway. I have no explanation to this, and I don't want to talk about it further. Okay, I didn't want to get into this.
Anyway.
Suicide. It's pretty scary of a word. And it's still somehow so vaguely explained. I know a friend that had to deal with the death of a close friend, and he was pretty wrecked. I did as much as I could at the time, but it's really up to him to recover. Eventually, he did though. I think that's why people say suicide is a selfish thing to do, because of the emotional damage caused to everyone around. Selfish? Really? How about we take a moment to think about what the person is going through, so badly that they think suicide is the only answer? Also, the whole "Don't do something permanent to a temporary problem" is kind of stupid, I'm sorry to say. To a depressed person, the "problem" is not so temporary. It's pretty permanent in our heads. You can't just accuse people of things you can't possibly understand, until you're in their shoes. And it's the worst shoes anyone can wear. Because I've been around suicidal people almost all my life, and I've been too myself on several occasions, I can say that even the slightest thing can trigger the emotions. Usually you'd advise them to avoid these situations, but it's kind of hard when everything seems to be stuck together. I feel blessed that I at least grew up with a religion, that it limits my "options" to a certain point. But there are still things that I do. Sometimes it would get so hard that I would end up curled up on the floor, just trying to remember to breathe. Because when you're at that low point in your life, there are very little things that will make sense to you. My sole advise is to have at least one person that you can trust to be around for you when that happens. Fortunately, and unfortunately, for me, that person is my best friend. But even your friends lose words sometimes, and you have to understand it is hard for them too, because they don't want to trigger you further while trying to be there for you at the same time. And ultimately, you're left by yourself. With the voices in your head. And it could make or break you.
The voices though.
Tuesday, September 6, 2016
Monday, September 5, 2016
Stranger things have happened, my friend
So you may be wondering right now, Amira's blogging two times in a day?! Is she dying?? No, well- everybody's dying, so that argument is invalid.
On to other important things; I wanted to write this the other day but I dismissed it for some reason. So I'm back again, trying to put my thoughts into words. Basically the only reason why I write. Also because it's fun playing with words, especially when people keep misunderstanding and turning your words around. Fun fun fun.
Anywho:
I wanted to address this because it caught my attention. Like a million other things, but let's go through them one by one, hm? I've been talking to like.... probably more than 10 women in the course of one month. Which is a feat, considering that I struggle with keeping a conversation for more than a few hours. Let me just figure out a way how to get on to this topic.
It's interesting to observe how girls refer to themselves. I mean, like, not what they think of themselves, that's for another post, but at what stage they start referring to themselves as women. I wonder what roles play in this... reference? I don't know. Because I know 19 year old girls that refer to themselves as women, but 21 year old women that refer to themselves as girls. Personally, I didn't start referring to myself as a woman until I turned 21; 1. Because I was legal for some time, 2. Because at that age, I was able to do almost all adult stuff. Almost, because, I was, and still am, under the care of my father so that limits me to a point.
There should probably a study conducted on this. Maybe there already is one, I'm going to look it up later. But for now, can I just say that I find it attractive when girls refer to themselves as women? I do it for people as early as 18 years of age, mostly because it's formal and I don't want to seem off putting or anything. But if she thinks of herself as a girl, I'm going to go ahead and do the same thing. Because I don't want to overdo things when it comes to other people. At least I try not to. If you speak to me in a certain way, most likely I will respond to you in the same way. Maybe higher, but never less. A good example would be if you're bubbly around me, I will do my best to match my mood to yours, mostly because I don't like to ruin it for other people. But if I do it, I'm just being honest towards my feelings. And also because I trust you enough to let you see how I feel, so you should feel awesome about yourself.
Also.
I've been doing some painful waiting, and it has taught me so much and made me think of everything in a different light. Waiting for the right time, waiting for ideas, waiting for a chance and everything else that I am unable to mention as of right now. I've always been spontaneous and going after what I want as quickly as possible, and waiting has never did me right, but it's not so bad. I mean, it's not horrible. Just maybe a minor convenience, for my part. Because it's against what I really want to do, but I'm not exactly complaining. The fact that I can be forced to wait, means there's an endless possibility ahead. Maybe one day I'll learn the art of patience. *internal cringing* If I ever do, I'll definitely write it down in one way or another.
Finally.
Weirdly enough, I got an offer to bring my dream to life. What dream was it? Ask me, maybe I'll answer. I guess dreams can come true.
Until then,
I'll take my leave.
Goodbye.
On to other important things; I wanted to write this the other day but I dismissed it for some reason. So I'm back again, trying to put my thoughts into words. Basically the only reason why I write. Also because it's fun playing with words, especially when people keep misunderstanding and turning your words around. Fun fun fun.
Anywho:
I wanted to address this because it caught my attention. Like a million other things, but let's go through them one by one, hm? I've been talking to like.... probably more than 10 women in the course of one month. Which is a feat, considering that I struggle with keeping a conversation for more than a few hours. Let me just figure out a way how to get on to this topic.
It's interesting to observe how girls refer to themselves. I mean, like, not what they think of themselves, that's for another post, but at what stage they start referring to themselves as women. I wonder what roles play in this... reference? I don't know. Because I know 19 year old girls that refer to themselves as women, but 21 year old women that refer to themselves as girls. Personally, I didn't start referring to myself as a woman until I turned 21; 1. Because I was legal for some time, 2. Because at that age, I was able to do almost all adult stuff. Almost, because, I was, and still am, under the care of my father so that limits me to a point.
There should probably a study conducted on this. Maybe there already is one, I'm going to look it up later. But for now, can I just say that I find it attractive when girls refer to themselves as women? I do it for people as early as 18 years of age, mostly because it's formal and I don't want to seem off putting or anything. But if she thinks of herself as a girl, I'm going to go ahead and do the same thing. Because I don't want to overdo things when it comes to other people. At least I try not to. If you speak to me in a certain way, most likely I will respond to you in the same way. Maybe higher, but never less. A good example would be if you're bubbly around me, I will do my best to match my mood to yours, mostly because I don't like to ruin it for other people. But if I do it, I'm just being honest towards my feelings. And also because I trust you enough to let you see how I feel, so you should feel awesome about yourself.
Also.
I've been doing some painful waiting, and it has taught me so much and made me think of everything in a different light. Waiting for the right time, waiting for ideas, waiting for a chance and everything else that I am unable to mention as of right now. I've always been spontaneous and going after what I want as quickly as possible, and waiting has never did me right, but it's not so bad. I mean, it's not horrible. Just maybe a minor convenience, for my part. Because it's against what I really want to do, but I'm not exactly complaining. The fact that I can be forced to wait, means there's an endless possibility ahead. Maybe one day I'll learn the art of patience. *internal cringing* If I ever do, I'll definitely write it down in one way or another.
Finally.
Weirdly enough, I got an offer to bring my dream to life. What dream was it? Ask me, maybe I'll answer. I guess dreams can come true.
Until then,
I'll take my leave.
Goodbye.
Folders of My Heart
You can say that you've moved on. You can say that you don't think of them anymore. You can say that you don't replay the words they tell you every single second you're awake, that you don't dream of them anymore. Dream of holding on to them, begging and pleading them to stay. You can say that.
But I know that you still hurt over them. You're still bitter over it all. That's why you ran all those miles away at the mention of the person that came between you two. I know you still hope for them to reach out to you, even though you know the chances of you making the moon is substantially greater. I know you haven't let go of their heart.
And you've got this folder, named a single letter. 8 years of knowing, 4 years of unity and 2 years, 1 month and 3 days after their disappearance, all down to this one folder. You open it every now and then. You tell yourself not to, but you keep doing it. Over and over again, like a broken song on your music player.
But even though you choke slightly, you come back to your senses. Heartbreak heals, just like everything else. You've moved on, opened up your scarred heart to someone else, still hoping they'll take it. You've given your hands for that someone to hold, and you might be a little scared of them running away, but they haven't yet, so that's something, right?
And you go over that folder. You right click on it, you breathe in, you scroll over to that 'Delete' button, and it's gone, breathing out. All traces of them, physically and emotionally, gone.
And you're finally clean.
But I know that you still hurt over them. You're still bitter over it all. That's why you ran all those miles away at the mention of the person that came between you two. I know you still hope for them to reach out to you, even though you know the chances of you making the moon is substantially greater. I know you haven't let go of their heart.
And you've got this folder, named a single letter. 8 years of knowing, 4 years of unity and 2 years, 1 month and 3 days after their disappearance, all down to this one folder. You open it every now and then. You tell yourself not to, but you keep doing it. Over and over again, like a broken song on your music player.
But even though you choke slightly, you come back to your senses. Heartbreak heals, just like everything else. You've moved on, opened up your scarred heart to someone else, still hoping they'll take it. You've given your hands for that someone to hold, and you might be a little scared of them running away, but they haven't yet, so that's something, right?
And you go over that folder. You right click on it, you breathe in, you scroll over to that 'Delete' button, and it's gone, breathing out. All traces of them, physically and emotionally, gone.
And you're finally clean.
Saturday, August 27, 2016
Short update
Hi!
I'm just here to update that I've been working relentlessly on a story and I mean to publish it here (for maybe 2 weeks to a month, depending on how good my mood is at the time) and Maya is the only one who has read it so far, so I congratulate her.
August has been... very annoying so far. At least there's only 4 days left of it, right? Annoying in the sense that my feelings and emotions are excessively and aggressively all over the place. Every single thing ticks me off and I swear I have to hold myself back many times. But it leaks anyway, because self-control for Amira is currently non-existent. As of right now, I am in my room, on my laptop, sitting with my back against the wardrobe as I'm typing on this rather small table here, with my old school BISC's cap facing backwards. I guess you could call it a snapback. Oh and my favourite pink teddy bear is looking over at me, silently judging me as I'm typing away. I hope no one else is having it anymore rough than I am.
Um, not sure what else to say here. Also I have my phone turned off so apart from posting this on FB as always, I won't be on there. Or anywhere else. I've also been sorta job hunting so we'll see what happens there.
Oh! Before I forget, I regret to say that I have been through a rather traumatic experience just yesterday. My crush got married, and it left me very sad, though I couldn't produce any tears. I feel like there's some sort of conspiracy going on to leave me to get married or something. But lol I'm just being dramatic here. Happy for them though. But I can't really talk to them anymore because I'm kinda avoiding them as I give them space. But I know they need me, because when they got engaged, they said that nobody but me was happy for them. I was temporarily depressed at this fact.
Anyway.
I'm sleepy and I have a pounding headache so I might take a short nap so I can continue my story later in the night.
P.S. A big shoutout to Allison for releasing that WayHaught video... I kind of worship you now. But please, GIVE US MORE!
Ok bye!
I'm just here to update that I've been working relentlessly on a story and I mean to publish it here (for maybe 2 weeks to a month, depending on how good my mood is at the time) and Maya is the only one who has read it so far, so I congratulate her.
August has been... very annoying so far. At least there's only 4 days left of it, right? Annoying in the sense that my feelings and emotions are excessively and aggressively all over the place. Every single thing ticks me off and I swear I have to hold myself back many times. But it leaks anyway, because self-control for Amira is currently non-existent. As of right now, I am in my room, on my laptop, sitting with my back against the wardrobe as I'm typing on this rather small table here, with my old school BISC's cap facing backwards. I guess you could call it a snapback. Oh and my favourite pink teddy bear is looking over at me, silently judging me as I'm typing away. I hope no one else is having it anymore rough than I am.
Um, not sure what else to say here. Also I have my phone turned off so apart from posting this on FB as always, I won't be on there. Or anywhere else. I've also been sorta job hunting so we'll see what happens there.
Oh! Before I forget, I regret to say that I have been through a rather traumatic experience just yesterday. My crush got married, and it left me very sad, though I couldn't produce any tears. I feel like there's some sort of conspiracy going on to leave me to get married or something. But lol I'm just being dramatic here. Happy for them though. But I can't really talk to them anymore because I'm kinda avoiding them as I give them space. But I know they need me, because when they got engaged, they said that nobody but me was happy for them. I was temporarily depressed at this fact.
Anyway.
I'm sleepy and I have a pounding headache so I might take a short nap so I can continue my story later in the night.
P.S. A big shoutout to Allison for releasing that WayHaught video... I kind of worship you now. But please, GIVE US MORE!
Ok bye!
Friday, January 22, 2016
Broken leg
So as usual, I haven't been on as much because I have been busy with my not so temporary job. I worked at a kindergarden and honestly, I quite enjoyed it. Plus I get to cook, and improve my cooking. (It still needs a lot of work. And I'm not married yet)
I've come to tell you all (all 3 of my followers lol) about what happened to me last Tuesday, around 12pm. See, the irony is, I've just (and I mean JUST) came back from the hospital. And in the morning, I tried to wake my sister up and send me to the ERL but she wouldn't budge and I don't want to park somewhere far so I decided to take her motorcycle. (Bad idea already) I paid like RM1 for parking and moved on to the hospital. I talked to the doctor, got a medicine to get me by until my next dosage and went back home. I ate bread with mushroom soup, because it is the only thing that gets me by in the morning.
As I was on my way back, I already felt like there was going to be something bad happen, but I didn't know what. You see, you should never ignore your first instincts, because usually they are right.
So I got back to my motorcycle, and drove back. Everything was going well, until I made a turn and suddenly the brake wouldn't work! I swear, I just flew across the road and into a road light. I lied there for about 10 very long seconds, contemplating on just laying there when out of nowhere, I swear 6-7 men ran towards me (I couldn't see them at first as I was busy laying down in pain on the ground) and started to pull the motorcycle up for me. They couldn't help me pick myself up because that would mean touching me (I guess good men still exist heh) so naturally I had to act tough and got up on my own. They asked me, "Are you okay, miss?" I nodded and they vanished. I swear, either they ran very fast or I blanked out as they went away. Only two men were left and they stayed at the side until I could go back on the motorcycle. Honestly, I was in so much pain from falling down that I decided to stop by a cake shop to eat my pain away. I ordered a blueberry cheesecake and a long black coffee. It was funny because I was hopping around and everyone started and I ignored them because I needed something sweet so I could ride back home.
So when I came home, my sister opened the door and I gave her a face. She was like, "What?" I said very slowly, "I fell down the motorcycle." She couldn't believe it until I limped on one leg into the house.
So that's the story of how I fell down the motorycle for the third time. The first and second time occured on the same day and I was fine afterwards. I guess three is my lucky number. And oh, no, my leg is not broken or fractured but the doctor said to go to the hospital if the pain persists, which is what it's doing.
Anyway, thanks for reading this post. I wish you all a good day. Bye!
I've come to tell you all (all 3 of my followers lol) about what happened to me last Tuesday, around 12pm. See, the irony is, I've just (and I mean JUST) came back from the hospital. And in the morning, I tried to wake my sister up and send me to the ERL but she wouldn't budge and I don't want to park somewhere far so I decided to take her motorcycle. (Bad idea already) I paid like RM1 for parking and moved on to the hospital. I talked to the doctor, got a medicine to get me by until my next dosage and went back home. I ate bread with mushroom soup, because it is the only thing that gets me by in the morning.
As I was on my way back, I already felt like there was going to be something bad happen, but I didn't know what. You see, you should never ignore your first instincts, because usually they are right.
So I got back to my motorcycle, and drove back. Everything was going well, until I made a turn and suddenly the brake wouldn't work! I swear, I just flew across the road and into a road light. I lied there for about 10 very long seconds, contemplating on just laying there when out of nowhere, I swear 6-7 men ran towards me (I couldn't see them at first as I was busy laying down in pain on the ground) and started to pull the motorcycle up for me. They couldn't help me pick myself up because that would mean touching me (I guess good men still exist heh) so naturally I had to act tough and got up on my own. They asked me, "Are you okay, miss?" I nodded and they vanished. I swear, either they ran very fast or I blanked out as they went away. Only two men were left and they stayed at the side until I could go back on the motorcycle. Honestly, I was in so much pain from falling down that I decided to stop by a cake shop to eat my pain away. I ordered a blueberry cheesecake and a long black coffee. It was funny because I was hopping around and everyone started and I ignored them because I needed something sweet so I could ride back home.
So when I came home, my sister opened the door and I gave her a face. She was like, "What?" I said very slowly, "I fell down the motorcycle." She couldn't believe it until I limped on one leg into the house.
So that's the story of how I fell down the motorycle for the third time. The first and second time occured on the same day and I was fine afterwards. I guess three is my lucky number. And oh, no, my leg is not broken or fractured but the doctor said to go to the hospital if the pain persists, which is what it's doing.
Anyway, thanks for reading this post. I wish you all a good day. Bye!
Saturday, June 6, 2015
I hate my name
Story of my life; I used to hate my name. Like with extreme hate. I hated it so much that I cringed everytime someone called me by "Amirah".
I used to think, "Oh the name is so common, literally you can go around and find any Amirahs from the street" and I used to really just hate it. There was no end to my hate that I started spelling my name by "Amira" and not the full "Amirah". I did ask my parents one day, "Why did you name me Amirah?" They didn't give me the answer I was looking for. Or at least I wasn't satisfied. In my defense (if I could defend myself), I was never truly satisfied by anything. There was always a fault in something so I lived in misery and agony for almost half my life.
I don't know how, I don't know when, just one day, out of nowhere, my teacher was asking us about what our names meant. I told the class, "In Arabic, my name means leader/queen/princess" Literally my name means Light of Princess. See I did not know this before and hated without question or surveying what my name really means.
And I think this applies in everyday life, in other aspects. Sometimes you hate because you don't know something. Like you hate Math because you're not good at it. Like some people hate History because it's a lot of reading and the events just seem to twist and turn (especially American History, according to my Year 8 History teacher). And you can hate it, sure. Hating is a choice. But give it a chance before you choose to religiously hate something. Give it a chance to prove itself to you. Like I didn't watch Pitch Perfect before and it seemed literally everyone but me knows and seen the cup song by Anna Kendrick. But I hated it anyway because I didn't see it and I was not bothered to give it a chance. But once I did give it a chance, I thought, "Hmm, not so bad."
And there's this cat that we named Princess (or I named it) and I gave it food and I thought, "Hmm we're actually calling her Amirah then since Princess = Amirah" Lol
Morale (or moral?) of the story is, know something before you judge it. Or as the popular saying goes, "Don't judge a book by its cover."
Sincerely,
Amirah.
I used to think, "Oh the name is so common, literally you can go around and find any Amirahs from the street" and I used to really just hate it. There was no end to my hate that I started spelling my name by "Amira" and not the full "Amirah". I did ask my parents one day, "Why did you name me Amirah?" They didn't give me the answer I was looking for. Or at least I wasn't satisfied. In my defense (if I could defend myself), I was never truly satisfied by anything. There was always a fault in something so I lived in misery and agony for almost half my life.
I don't know how, I don't know when, just one day, out of nowhere, my teacher was asking us about what our names meant. I told the class, "In Arabic, my name means leader/queen/princess" Literally my name means Light of Princess. See I did not know this before and hated without question or surveying what my name really means.
And I think this applies in everyday life, in other aspects. Sometimes you hate because you don't know something. Like you hate Math because you're not good at it. Like some people hate History because it's a lot of reading and the events just seem to twist and turn (especially American History, according to my Year 8 History teacher). And you can hate it, sure. Hating is a choice. But give it a chance before you choose to religiously hate something. Give it a chance to prove itself to you. Like I didn't watch Pitch Perfect before and it seemed literally everyone but me knows and seen the cup song by Anna Kendrick. But I hated it anyway because I didn't see it and I was not bothered to give it a chance. But once I did give it a chance, I thought, "Hmm, not so bad."
And there's this cat that we named Princess (or I named it) and I gave it food and I thought, "Hmm we're actually calling her Amirah then since Princess = Amirah" Lol
Morale (or moral?) of the story is, know something before you judge it. Or as the popular saying goes, "Don't judge a book by its cover."
Sincerely,
Amirah.
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
Insults 101
So an insult is basically just a word or a phrase. I know it's hard to recognize when it angers you but believe me, it is a word unless you give it power to be an insult.
Funniest thing happened to me last night, I had spent all night being okay... And happy. And this is weird coming from me, especially being thrown at with this kind of word. I think that, if you can be okay with such a word, maybe you are alright. There is no need to dwell on something that obviously means nothing to you. And that's how insults should be -- nothing. Because it does not, by all means, define who or what you are.
I think this one step will take you far. Try it sometime. Find the humour in the word and you will be okay.
Sincerely,
Someone who has never been okay before
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