Blinding pain

I want to start by saying I’m well and glad to be alive. 2019 is about to conclude and it’s been eventful at the very least. I’m here to share a very exciting Saturday, one that I worked towards for months in advance and although it was nothing near to dull, it couldn’t be more opposite to how I imagined that weekend would go by.

I want to talk about gut feeling as well – I’ve had two major incidents this year and each time I felt funny before leaving the house in the morning. I remember both days vividly, that slight pause at the door and a very strong feeling of ‘something’s not right’. I’m unsure if its because something happened later that I remember those mornings and my nerves or is it that I felt so because something was about to happen. More on this later. For now, let’s focus on pain, blinding pain.

It was all I felt the instance I sat down to have the first meal of my day on 16th November after being out on the field all day. Blinding pain and a tingly feeling around my head, hands and abdomen.

My first thought: what’s happening to me? quickly escalated to ‘This is my last day’. Every second seemed to pass slower and with it my worry grew. I was frightened unlike anything I’ve felt before which scared me more as I’m the kind of person who takes health and wellbeing lightly. I’d suffer a migraine for hours before thinking to treat it with a medicine or to complain about it, I’m usually looking for ways to distract myself or perhaps test my threshold but that day I felt scared.

I felt sick and had no clue what was happening inside of me, my body felt foreign and all my insides were on fire and at war. I couldn’t think fast enough, couldn’t react fast enough. All I wanted was to talk to someone, talk to Moeed but my phone’s battery ran low. I plugged it in, which I’ll regret later…

I thought I was getting claustrophobic from being inside a windowless room so I gathered all of my strength and walked out the office brushing past all the guests and staff alike. I walked down about 350m to the toilets thinking of all the possible things that could be happening to me but didn’t steer away from the thought of dying. I could feel the tingle growing into an itch, rampant breathing, hot flashes, sweating…

I looked at my dark red hands radiating the heat I could feel against my palms. My walk turned to a limp and it took all of my determination to keep walking. The door to the bathroom was my only focus as my brain and vision got fuzzy. I didn’t have my phone on me, there were no people around, not a single soul. Day time and windy but it seemed dark, clammy and hot. When I finally made it I felt both relieved for being able to stop and panic for being on my own.

I sat down on the toilet, staring at my hands I grew increasingly aware of my heartbeat, my scorching skin and the feeling of suffocation. I tried to take my jacket off as my brain processed memories good and bad terrorizing me to my core. The pain enveloped me whole at this point tearing through my insides, shooting upwards and sideways and claiming my body and consciousness.

I looked at myself in the mirror, registering my bloodshot eyes and skin. The only thought: Am I having a stroke?

I felt like the end. I had so much to say, to write, to share, so much to live for and to love but it felt distant, more dreamlike than reality. I was spiraling down this rabbit hole as the thought and memory of this one person kept my eyes from shutting completely. I had this strong urge to breathe, to walk out again and reach out for help. I didn’t know until then the true essence of strength and determination.

Then came the longest walk of my life and surely the most impossible. I forced myself up and out, feud between my brain and my body, whether to keep my horrified reflection out of my head and to keep going or to give in the temptation and drop down on the concrete floor and end the torment. All of life’s pains seemed like a prick of a needle compared to this, the agony and stress and fright was more real than anything I’ve felt in a long time.

It took everything I am and then some to walk back and place myself on a chair inside a room. I lifted my arms and moved my hands to grab my phone, except I only thought I did. My phone was on the ground and my eyes shut, shoulders slumped and hearing heightened.

The noisy crowd tuned out and voices of concerned colleagues surrounded my aura. I heard them crisp and clear, their worried steps and effortfully calm conversations. ‘Should we call you an ambulance?” I think I must’ve nodded, I meant to speak but my body felt foreign at the time.

Not very different from a sleep paralysis where you battle your consciousness and your stationary body into movement except it was my reality. A scary one at that. I felt a touch on my arms helping me lay on the floor on my back, I sensed shortening of air as more people walked in to the room and started talking, I recall someone calling my husband and cold stickers on my skin wired to something, I remember the numbness in my fingers as the band across my arms pressed and released. I remember the light and the stretcher and being inside an ambulance. I remember it all yet none of it.

All of the moments from my getting out of the room till my being back in the chair are a blur, a hazy memory yet I remember those seconds of my life as vividly as I’m walking through it every time I think about it…

Let the stars shine bright

The ocean and the sea in the night and its glee

The sunshine’s departure as the moonlights revealed

My dying love for you as I grow stronger

Camaraderie of solitude and unparalleled satisfaction

Comforting words in nature’s pleasant sight

A moments promise to spend my life as I

And then the stars shine bright.

He doesn’t know.

With every kiss that leads somewhere, my mind drifts into thoughts of getting his body away from mine

When talking about love I wonder if it’s true and if it’ll stay, if he’s really here for good

With every smile that passes my lips, my heart wonders if I’m happy if I deserve it, is he the reason behind it?

All the gatherings and touching base with this world, I’m always stalling, so uncomfortable in my own skin

Days fly by, nights are frightening, the nightmares that haunt my sleep are alien to him

Depression or anxiety, excitement or delusion – I’m a person of matter with dark thoughts clouding my mind, my problem not his.

The pointed shards of my broken heart poke my insides and tear me apart nothing he can mend, I’m not his property

The pieces of me are irrevocably lost, I’ll let them drown in the ocean of dust as he can’t even if he wanted to find me

It’s just that the world of me in unknown to him

The reality of me, he doesn’t know…

Honestly, What are we doing?

I’ve come here to write on my worst of days, on my best of days
with no expectations, somedays for no audience

I talk, I vent, I whine
sometimes with reason but mostly for retrospect

Today is no different as I look back on the days I grew up
because I had to, because I was forced to

Childhood shapes you and maps out the course of your life
memories and experiences, traumas and appearances
it’s all laid out for interpretation, for reflection, for improvement, but mostly underestimation

I was growing up, making a life, living as we know it
I failed and fell, stood up and stumbled but overcame all the cries and regrets

Life still isn’t fun most days, every other thing seems to be ruining it
relationships, choices and all of what makes life, it is also what breaks it so completely

so honestly, what we are doing here?

I wish a generation who isn’t as shallow as we are.

I have all sorts of hypothetical and realistic discussions with my husband and there’s one topic that has the highest density: Children’s upbringing.

Belonging to a Gen Y population ( more commonly known as a Millenial) we’ve seen the passing of not one but two generations. We’ve also lived through the technological era and the time before, so it’s only common for us to consider how we choose to raise a kid in this world of abundant knowledge and exposure that is as easily harmful as it is beneficial.

Our discussions range from extensive outdoor sports and no technology til 10 years to healthy eating habits and informative ways to learn about bodily needs, from trips to scientific centres/museums to visits to amusement parks and beaches savouring nature, from bonding with family and friends to learning languages and arts. It’s only normal for a parent to want to teach their kid the most in their capacity, to be able to nourish the mental as well as the physical part of him/her. But there’s one thing to take note here. We’re lucky to have enough education, exposure, understanding and resources in this world to demand better for our kids and hence instead of making them just a better version of ourselves, we should help them be their best possible selves.

Humans aren’t born with prejudice but we teach them to favour, to perceive. Parents teach their kids words, colours, shapes, beliefs, and it is parents who also teach their kids judgement, discrimination, racism, insensitivity. Kids pick up on not just what we show them but what we say, our movement and even how we feel around certain objects and people. It’s very crucial to monitor and try to neutralize all of what we are and feel and do around our kid. It’s not an easy thing, for sure, but those few months make a human that would go on living for years, decades on this planet, so let’s tread carefully.

With multiple laws against harassment, discrimination and development in human rights, in general, has led to a more consciously aware society but I’ve seen the world today make fun of how people have gone intolerant and take offence to the tiniest bits of jokes, it wouldn’t be such if the world truly was all-inclusive.

I know that the world sees me differently because I’m a girl. I know the world hears me differently because I’m fat. I know that the world perceives me differently because I prefer words over videos or because I truly dread phone calls. I’ve always felt out of place because my personality was different than those who surrounded me. Where many enjoyed sitting idol on the ground staring at no one and nothing, in particular, I preferred visiting the library and took pleasure in doing homework of whoever asked. I was yelled at for never leaving my book behind as I had to carry one ( course or fiction) EVERYWHERE I went. My closest friend doesn’t understand my anxiety or most of my personality for that matter to date – despite explaining myself time and again – and hence I’ve only tired myself of such worldly explanations that would never help because I’ve finally understood that the world is simply not ready yet, we, the Gen Y are judgemental and unaccepting but that’s not the world I see for my kids.

All my arguments and desires end here, whatever or whoever my child be, I NEED her/him to be All-inclusive. Welcoming to the world around us, in all ways and forms. Accepting each living and breathing human, respecting each form and type. Not ever, even for a second, categorizing humans based on their traits, physical or mental but understanding who they are, whatever and however that may be.

I wish a generation who isn’t as shallow as we are.