Dear Journal.

-
16.12.2015
“Dear journal,
Winter is cruel to me, I thought you ought to know that. It deliberately creeps into the inside of my bones and finds its shelter between the tissues that surround them.. I have no idea how, but I’d like to find out.

I’m occupied by study these days, as you can see. Oh, and I drank coffee for the first time in like 5 months to give me energy to survive until 8 pm studying. My eyes didn’t droop today but it’s the vindictive chill that buries my handwriting and urges me to hide my skin under an insulator. I’m really tempted to build s fire next to my desk to blaze me s little.. hmm.. why am I always so cold?

I think I’ll sleep in a while but I promised myself to write one 2016 resolution and it is:

Self-compassion.

I want to accept, embrace my physical and spiritual self and embed them within a deeper identity-related meaning. I am Soraya. I want to open up my self to love and peace of the soul and the body.

I want to be the soul God could love, because how could He ever love me with a heart starved and hungry like mine? With a heart like a barren field? With a soul so thin and grey?

I’d love to give more. You know? Sometimes I wish I had an opportunity to give endlessly for I believe it’s a key to complex richness of spirit. I wish I had pocket money so that I could buy some food and give it to the hungry, or invest some to buy some clothes for the poor.

I want to spread awareness, journal. I’d love to.

But I am, for now, just a worthless personage, studying, doing nothing quite influential. Just a mere consumer. Just broken, tired and lost.

I’m still grateful, though.”

Here is an entry dated back to a chilly December night. I was quite deranged at that time, as you can see, and I was pushing myself past my limits studying and getting those fits of panic attacks thinking I wasn’t going enough to the world. I thought God hated me, for some reason.

I- I just can’t believe I was in this state. I was really helpless and found no way to support myself. I didn’t know what to do.. from where to start.. my health was deteriorating as well as my self-worth. But, I stopped victimising myself, started moving forward and accepting more about myself.

Growing.

I’m really grateful for taking gratitude to a higher level, and I hope I continue to do that, for the rest of my life.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

a letter to my father.

-
Image
I thought I’d be writing this to you on a different day I had visualised for years. the day I’d be free. the day you wouldn’t be here anymore and I’d have the valiance to finally scream out all my unkempt anger. this day has come sooner than I’d expected, and in different circumstances. much better than I’d hoped them to be. and I have some things I want to say. I want to tell you that you’ll always be the greatest source of hurt and pain. I hadn’t seen anyone who had hurt me and who would ever hurt me more than you. it is diabolical to how much lengths you’ve crossed just to inflict me, my mother and my sister — and my whole family — with pain that we need so much time and effort to heal. it’s unreasonable how you never listened to me despite telling you countless times that I did not feel well. it’s terrible that you’d blocked all of my attempts to talk to you honestly.  I want to tell you that you did not give me a choice but to lie to you. anytime I’d say or you’d discover the trut
click to read

Sitting With Myself.

-
Image
It’s never been so sweet to be with myself as it is now, perhaps it starts with a little bit of numbness and pain, a little bit of restlessness and confusion— but the answers always come. The answer to true rapture and love always come in time. I’ve numbed myself with so many dependencies and false beliefs. I’ve numbed and emptied my heart with the perception that there is so much to be done, that I’m not proficient enough, that I shouldn’t even try to give myself space to do something new that a sacred voice within me longs to immerse itself into. It’s profusely and perplexingly arduous to learn sometimes, especially when it comes to what I devotedly care about, like teaching and being with children and painting and singing. The experience is turned into a challenge so harrowing to start and keep it up when my critical voice keeps finding excuses to not even try. The hardest time for me is perhaps when I come back from work. There is this sinking sensation the moment I step inside, it
click to read

a goodbye’s grief.

-
Image
there are only hours left, and the only thing I want to keep doing is stay invisible. stay in the gloaming silence of being out of reach. slipping away smoothly, making no sound, till one day I’m just not here. I keep telling my learners “ you won’t feel it when I leave ”. one day, they’ll be here again, and I’ll be gone.  my name will be a distant echo in the daylight sunshine. something to remember slightly. a remembrance that never lingers, I hope. I just wonder what could have happened if I had been more prominently alive in this world. just imagine how it would be if I could hear and feel every single heart tear apart at the thought of me leaving. how grateful I am that my presence had always been fleeting, almost incomprehensibly inexistent. with this subtle existence, it still hurts, tremendously so.  I’ve always dreaded goodbyes. it’s never been that difficult as it is now.  I’ve said goodbye to every single tree I love. every single cloud. why am I tearing is what I don’t know
click to read

Enrapturing Highlights of 2023.

-
Image
alas, it is the last day of one of the most challenging years of my life: 2023– a pyramidal year. I’m posting this as the fireworks blare across the frosty skies of a town I love with all my heart, my heart breaking in infinite gratitude for this pyramid and the climb it mercifully granted. it’s been pyramidal, that’s true. it took me to the ground to face the truths of my foundations, making me battle so much of my memories to finally be honest with myself and clip off all that I don’t need to move forwards with. that meant clipping off and dusting away my own father from my life and choosing to stay with people who I know love me dearly. it’s been traumatic, and I’m still recovering from the aftermath, but I’m on my own now, and this is my pyramid. this is my life. my memory is a little bit blurry now after all that has happened. I don’t remember much but the incessant pain, but I’ll do my best to reflect on the happenings of each month.  vehemently, all I return to is utter disbelie
click to read

a letter you never read.

-
Image
these are words I’ve kept hidden within me for so long now. as I reflect midst the snow, and the aftermath of the most delicate and elegant storms, I find myself right in my heart again able to speak my truth. now that I’m here, wondering how it all happened when I never knew love would be anything but you. I’m not sure what happened, I’m not sure where I’m going. all I have are these prayers for guidance and the relentless climb and oath to never sell the very essence of who I am. I’m free now. I’m actually free. it tastes so splendidly enchanting. I can freeze to death in this cold and sing in the snowflake-laden roads in romanticism so loud, so pure, so enlivened by His remembrance. I’m free now and I’ve never been so..  happy? I just want to tell you that I wish you fought for me a little harder. I wish you knew how much your disappearance hurt no matter how much I kept forgiving. did you need me to scream at you to understand? how much I needed you to lose and risk your life for m
click to read