I remember when I was about seven I used to love riding in the car when it was raining. I would watch the raindrops fall against the window, and I would be entranced by the traces they made, as they moved along, pushed by the wind into little trails, separating and converging in whatever paths they were destined for.
When I was fourteen, at night my best friend and I used to lay on the trampoline in my backyard, staring up at the stars. We wouldn’t speak – we didn’t have to – and instead we’d just lay there, watching the stars, observing the night sky, perhaps waiting for that one falling star that would shine in the night.
I wish I had someone that could tell me what I should do. When you’re a child, all your decisions are made for you. I need someone to step in and not only give me advice, but guide me to the right answer.
I’m far from Allah. In my life right now, I don’t know who I am. I’m not taking care of myself. I’m not praying. I’m not eating right. I smoke cigarettes like someone’s going to take them away from me. I’m not me.
Filled to the brim. When we first moved here, the attic was a sanctuary. It was untouched, wood planks running across the floor, bare and empty. Now, it sits packed with old memories and baby clothes. None of which I am ready to get rid of. I like going up there, rummaging through the past, searching for items I had forgotten about.
I always want to go up there with my husband, just to spend time in a place that holds what we used to be, photos of us together in our first home, a glass swan he bought me when we were just dating. Now that we are constantly surrounded on all sides by our children, we have very few moments where it’s just us.
The attic to me represents so many memories. I like reminiscing about the times when we were young.
What item in your house brings back memories for you? Is there a special part in your house you always like to be in?
I have had a journal since I was able to write. I’ve kept most of them, aside from the pre-teen years (in fact, I think I burnt them to dispose of any evidence!) Most of the time when I write, I write about the negative things. Maybe this is because writing helps me through these experiences. Or maybe it’s just that I have a negative way of thinking.
Either way, I’ve found that when I rewrite my writings to reflect positivity and good thoughts, I find the words to be inspirational, wonderful and uplifting. So maybe in order to combat this bout of depression, I need to get more positivity in my life.
I tried replacing my negative words with words like hopeful, free, hope, happy, smile, survive, calm, at peace. Reading these words out loud helps me to realize that things are not all that bad. Because really, it’s all about perspective. We can moan on and on about our complaints of the world and our lives, but if we really try, we can see the good things that benefit us.
Tell me, how do you create positivity in your own life?
My wheels are spinning in the dirt. I don’t know up from down. I’m just plain stuck. I keep doing the same things over and over, things that are unhealthy, things that are not me. I do them because it’s now become a habit. I don’t know how to break this chain, this cycle that leads into itself.
I can’t even begin to imagine what it would be like to be out of this circle of “stuck”-iness. If I did imagine it, I would imagine cool water splashed upon my face, rinsing my arms up to the elbows, pouring water, rushing and blue through my hair and saying La illaha il Allah. I wish I would worship again.