FROM THE ARCHIVES · LIQUID DEPRESSO INJECTION / W5
Falling
Filed under Commentary & Rants
Warning. Rant ahead...but what else is new?
...I don't understand. I've supposedly improved since taking this Wellbutrin medication, but...sometimes...like today and yesterday...it doesn't seem to be working. Nothing seems to matter. All seems hopeless...
After looking over and trying to read every Tumblr post and blog entry I've missed since losing the internet at home, I've...fallen into that horrid slump yet again. I've been thinking of the things I used to love doing that I don't do anymore or not enough of in comparison to the better days...Sketching...reading...writing...going outside for no reason but to be outside...
I can't even explain how much I feel as if I've betrayed myself. I love these things. Why...? What's wrong with me?
I don't like to read anymore? Blasphemy! I adore books...yet...I don't feel the desire to read. I always make up excuses...Not having what I want to read...not finding time...or something stupid like that, but even I know they're all lies. I borrowed Dracula recently, for crying out loud, and didn't even pick it up to read once. Ended up returning it to the library on the day it was due with a heavy heart and a confused mind. I don't dare to borrow a book now...That feeling of betrayal is too deep...
I ooh and aah over the list of books I want to add to my library, yet I don't even go out to read them. I used to read so much...
And writing! The last time I can remember in which I was writing nearly every day and taking joy in it was sometime back in 2006. Sure, I've written since then...have had fantastic ideas...etc, etc, but...I don't have the joy in it I once had. I look back on the way I used to write, and...they just flowed. I look on the only story I've ever completed, a fanfiction, back in 2010 and...it, too, just came to me. I didn't have to force myself the way I have to now...I want it to be like that again, always...
Sketching! Goodness, I used to draw and sketch all the time. Took a true liking to it when I realized I'm better at sketching than I am at drawing. Tried to do that again earlier this year and...I just didn't feel that interest, that rush of adrenaline I remember feeling that time I re-drew a computer wallpaper or drew my hands. Or even when I would sketch weapons and jewelry for my stories, or symbols for fun...
...I love making symbols...
...And then of course, there's going outside. This, unfortunately, or quite a lot of it, I admittedly blame on my parents. Once upon a time, from ages 13 to about 16, all I wanted to do was go outside...on my own, mind you. I wanted to go to the park, go visit stores, go to the library, anything, as long as I was out of the house. But I wasn't allowed to go out by myself. I had to go with my brother, or father...or my mother. And then, all of a sudden, age 17 came and I was allowed to go out only because I was going to school. But by that time, I admitted defeat. Oh, and when I turned 18, everything was suddenly "okay". Oh, yes, Maryam! You can go anywhere you want, now, just tell us where you're going and when you might come back! Bye-bye~! What the hell was that? Suddenly, I was paranoid. I was afraid to go out. I had by then lost all...I don't know...confidence to do what I once thought I was perfectly capable of doing when I was younger. I lost it. I was mad, then...at them...
...There's another reason for my not wanting to go out, now, but...it seems too ridiculous to even mention here. I'm embarrassing myself enough as it is...
So. Now I am a mess. I don't want to go anywhere unless it has something to do with what I like. And that, of course, never happens. Now my father is pissed because he wants me to get out more and "interact with the Muslimas" and "the young sisters", because I "am a daughter of Eve, you know". Gee. Thanks, Dad. I'll go back to ignoring you, now.
...Clueless...
I swear, nearly everything he says (or does) pisses me off...
...I often wonder how my family will react once it comes out that I'm bigender...that I want to be considered a man at times...that I don't want to cover...that I do consider myself a Muslim, but according to all of the rules and the basis itself, no, I'm not. As much as I hate to admit it, even I know that. And I hate that. I loathe it. I despise it....and sometimes I have a hard time explaining just why that is, even to myself...
My eldest brother and his wife visited yesterday. It was unexpected, but welcomed. Though I didn't meet her, I found out I've got a little niece...I've wanted a little sister forever. My family knows this all too well. I almost had a little sister, too. But...she didn't make it. A little niece, as my other nieces are older, will probably be the closest thing. The problem is...her mother is Muslim...from Morocco. That never bodes well. Never, fucking ever. There is a huge possibility she will be adamant about not having me in the presence of her daughter in the future.
...Black sheep and all...
...Perhaps I'm blowing things out of proportion, as I do too often. I very well might be. Maybe not. This is why I take meds...but it's not like they seem to do much...
...Ramadan is coming up in a day or so. That will not bode well in any way.
To say I wish I was out of the house today is an understatement.
...I don't understand. I've supposedly improved since taking this Wellbutrin medication, but...sometimes...like today and yesterday...it doesn't seem to be working. Nothing seems to matter. All seems hopeless...
After looking over and trying to read every Tumblr post and blog entry I've missed since losing the internet at home, I've...fallen into that horrid slump yet again. I've been thinking of the things I used to love doing that I don't do anymore or not enough of in comparison to the better days...Sketching...reading...writing...going outside for no reason but to be outside...
I can't even explain how much I feel as if I've betrayed myself. I love these things. Why...? What's wrong with me?
I don't like to read anymore? Blasphemy! I adore books...yet...I don't feel the desire to read. I always make up excuses...Not having what I want to read...not finding time...or something stupid like that, but even I know they're all lies. I borrowed Dracula recently, for crying out loud, and didn't even pick it up to read once. Ended up returning it to the library on the day it was due with a heavy heart and a confused mind. I don't dare to borrow a book now...That feeling of betrayal is too deep...
I ooh and aah over the list of books I want to add to my library, yet I don't even go out to read them. I used to read so much...
And writing! The last time I can remember in which I was writing nearly every day and taking joy in it was sometime back in 2006. Sure, I've written since then...have had fantastic ideas...etc, etc, but...I don't have the joy in it I once had. I look back on the way I used to write, and...they just flowed. I look on the only story I've ever completed, a fanfiction, back in 2010 and...it, too, just came to me. I didn't have to force myself the way I have to now...I want it to be like that again, always...
Sketching! Goodness, I used to draw and sketch all the time. Took a true liking to it when I realized I'm better at sketching than I am at drawing. Tried to do that again earlier this year and...I just didn't feel that interest, that rush of adrenaline I remember feeling that time I re-drew a computer wallpaper or drew my hands. Or even when I would sketch weapons and jewelry for my stories, or symbols for fun...
...I love making symbols...
...And then of course, there's going outside. This, unfortunately, or quite a lot of it, I admittedly blame on my parents. Once upon a time, from ages 13 to about 16, all I wanted to do was go outside...on my own, mind you. I wanted to go to the park, go visit stores, go to the library, anything, as long as I was out of the house. But I wasn't allowed to go out by myself. I had to go with my brother, or father...or my mother. And then, all of a sudden, age 17 came and I was allowed to go out only because I was going to school. But by that time, I admitted defeat. Oh, and when I turned 18, everything was suddenly "okay". Oh, yes, Maryam! You can go anywhere you want, now, just tell us where you're going and when you might come back! Bye-bye~! What the hell was that? Suddenly, I was paranoid. I was afraid to go out. I had by then lost all...I don't know...confidence to do what I once thought I was perfectly capable of doing when I was younger. I lost it. I was mad, then...at them...
...There's another reason for my not wanting to go out, now, but...it seems too ridiculous to even mention here. I'm embarrassing myself enough as it is...
So. Now I am a mess. I don't want to go anywhere unless it has something to do with what I like. And that, of course, never happens. Now my father is pissed because he wants me to get out more and "interact with the Muslimas" and "the young sisters", because I "am a daughter of Eve, you know". Gee. Thanks, Dad. I'll go back to ignoring you, now.
...Clueless...
I swear, nearly everything he says (or does) pisses me off...
...I often wonder how my family will react once it comes out that I'm bigender...that I want to be considered a man at times...that I don't want to cover...that I do consider myself a Muslim, but according to all of the rules and the basis itself, no, I'm not. As much as I hate to admit it, even I know that. And I hate that. I loathe it. I despise it....and sometimes I have a hard time explaining just why that is, even to myself...
My eldest brother and his wife visited yesterday. It was unexpected, but welcomed. Though I didn't meet her, I found out I've got a little niece...I've wanted a little sister forever. My family knows this all too well. I almost had a little sister, too. But...she didn't make it. A little niece, as my other nieces are older, will probably be the closest thing. The problem is...her mother is Muslim...from Morocco. That never bodes well. Never, fucking ever. There is a huge possibility she will be adamant about not having me in the presence of her daughter in the future.
...Black sheep and all...
...Perhaps I'm blowing things out of proportion, as I do too often. I very well might be. Maybe not. This is why I take meds...but it's not like they seem to do much...
...Ramadan is coming up in a day or so. That will not bode well in any way.
To say I wish I was out of the house today is an understatement.