Dear me,

Why are you so depressed? Is it because the quarantine got extended? It’s ok. There’s nothing you can do about it; and you’re not the only one. Everyone is stuck at home the same way you are. That is one of the reasons isn’t it. But what would you prefer? 

Going to back to college where you are constantly exhausted and can’t catch your breath? You were almost worn out until quarantine started. In fact, the quarantine has given you a nice break. 

But… there’s something else. It’s here. Being stuck here. That’s exactly what I feel like… stuck. I hate my parents. I hate my mum. I love my grandmother but she can be so negative sometimes and it all the positivity from me and I feel drained. It’s the responsibility of taking of my grandfather, who I also love but… taking care of him is hard. 

I feel tired. Uninspired, depressed and apathetic. “What a disastrous life!”, is all that I have in my head. I am unhappy. I don’t know why. My girlfriend is far away from me. The distance is hard, even though we talk everyday. We both have the same issues so we can’t exactly help each other, or more likely we don’t know how to. 

How do I fix something that I don’t understand. My mood is getting worse and worse everyday. It’s Friday… end of the week. I have a test tomorrow that I have not studied for because I forgot about it. I can write an entire essay about my feelings but I can’t finish my assignment without feeling like a failure. I don’t feel like talking to my friends. There’s nothing they can do anyway, and they don’t understand how I feel. Nor do I know how to talk about how I feel. 

I am on the verge of tears, everyday. Even though, I don’t act like it. You don’t know what’s going on inside a person’s mind. I am the most negative person I know. So hopeless and sad. There’s no fixing me. I have been conditioned this way. Years of trauma… I just realised the other day, when I sat writing in a notebook. I wrote ‘The Timeline of My Life’. Most of the years were traumatic. I don’t remember my childhood, not because I forgot, but because I chose to block it out. Now I don’t remember much. Now, I’m twenty years old, and I'm still picking up the shard of a broken childhood. It doesn’t help that I am constantly around the woman who is responsible for the trauma that I have suffered. My mother… still abusive. Still angry and resentful. Still mean. Sometimes nice… nice to everyone except me. Still I feel weak around her. The fear that I have is obvious to me because my stutter came back. I can’t form proper words when she is around. The feeling is the same.

Terrified, weak and hopeless. Other people around me should have known a child at my age should not have been that hopeless and depressed. The sky was always dark. Believing is pointless when all your faith will be crushed. The feelings that I have right now are the same as I have had when I was little. I remember it vividly, which is the only thing about my childhood I remember vividly. 

I can’t stay here any longer. I must leave. Or else the darkness will wrap itself around my throat and suffocate me. I’ll leave and never come back. 

Hopeless

Hopeless

Hopeless

HOPELESS!!!

Somebody kill me….

Is life worth bearing if there is nothing to look forward. When all your dreams seem so far away… so unachievable. Who am I to think that my dreams will come true? I have no special gifts or skills. I am not attractive. I am not incredibly smart. I am not quick-witted, popular, funny, or interesting in anyway. Who would bother with me? Who would care? Most of the time I have been pushed aside by my peers. For years this has been my predicament, and after awhile I just accepted it because I thought they were right. I have nothing to offer anyone.

Even finding a community, which I thought would change the way I feel, did not help. The same problems, again and again. I was proud of being queer, still am. Probably the only thing that I am proud of. But I am sinking. I realise I do not belong anywhere. Reaching out is so terrifying. I even realised that some queers could hate their own, probably because they hate themselves because society has decided that we are worthless and wish we don’t exist. Bigoted, racist, ist, misogynistic queers exist. Which I think is the worst form of self-hatred. Plus, there is an element of hostility because having chosen their own clique makes them think that others outside their group are inferior. I find this hilarious… I thought I was insecure, those will this mentally are worse than dog under one’s shoe. 

Those who feel like their uality is exchangeable… if they made a deal with God to be straight then He would give you a free pass to Heaven… as if your identity could bought, sold and exchanged. I would ridicule them but perhaps they deserve some compassion. Being gay in an Islamic country is not easy. It’s a battle just to be yourself. Perhaps they have gotten tired of fighting, and decided giving in to what a society demands would give them peace… so they can stop fighting. I only realised all this because I am so lonely all I do is observe people and their interactions. Through these observations I have been able to gain some insight into their lives and the way they think. On the bright side, not all of them are hostile. Some of them have found a chosen family. Good for them… I don’t know what that’s like. I don’t understand how that feels. Everyone just wants to see what you have to offer. They leave when they find out you have nothing. 

But hey, none of that matters anyway. We’re all going to Hell. People don’t like it when I say this. Is it because it’s true? And the truth is scary. But I would rather live surrounded by the truth then be fed lies and delusions. 

That’s I have to say. I’m glad I let it out. 

Until Next Time, 

Fatin