Nepenthe

Wow, I hadn't realise the last time I wrote a post was 11 months ago. I guess I really was occupied with life. I write whenever I needed to clear my mind of thoughts, but it seems like life really got to me and I am not trapped in my head anymore. I made a mental note to write often to keep my thoughts in order, but it seemed like the note was left forgotten under a pile of assignments and reports.

Since the last time I wrote, I finished my final year at Monash. I got my results recently and alhamdulillah, everything went better than I thought, and I will be graduating in April, inshaAllah. After finals, I went to my hometown for a week, before coming back to tour KL with my family. We visited a few museums, attended a couple of weddings, the obligatory Ikea visit, the Science Centre and did some bundle shopping (I also sneaked another 2 knitted tops for RM40 but nobody has to know that). Right now, it is lightly raining outside and I am home alone because the others went back to KB, but I had to stay for Ikea kitchen cabinet delivery. After days and days of prioritising and thinking about other people, I can finally, clearly hear my thoughts again.

So after six years, I am finally through with my degree. I did not know what I expected I would feel, but right now, I feel hanging. Sis gotta move on to having a career but don't know where to start. My confidence went down as my degree was not extra special, without internship and any other cocurricular activities, I would say it was just a piece of paper.

If all this while, I was wishing to be able to stay home and do nothing, I take it back. I am jobless and I hate it. So, I am thinking of getting a side business while going to skills workshops before I hop on a stable-job wagon. I have only imagined working 9-5 in an office, like my mother would. I set up a LinkedIn account, just to ignore it after 5 minutes because I have nothing to write about myself. Literally, no experience, skills, nothing. I am beginning to think that I would not be fit for working life, but hey, sis got bills to pay. Yet, I still don't know whether I should wait until graduation, or start looking right away. I mean, I have been scrolling through job ads, but there's this thing that's keeping me from making a move: anxiety. Of being in a new surrounding, of having to meet more than one other new people, of maybe not being able to do a job properly, of getting scolded, of getting embarrassed. All of those.

Time and time again I have to remind myself that all of those are in the future, which we cannot control even a little bit, whether it would or would not happen. It is really testing my courage, because I have always been timid. I know who I am deep inside - I can be brave, I can be confident, I can be bright and outstanding, but sometimes, the anxiety masks it like I never really know her.

Now that's something I really have to work on. Nevertheless, here's to hoping for a good 2020 - a new decade, a new phase of life, a new beginning.

For a few years, I have been looking at this book in someone else's hands or bookshelves from a distance, until The Big Bad Wolf held their annual sale in KL earlier this month so I knew I had to get a copy for myself. It was available elsewhere but it would be quite expensive for me. That day, my sister found a boxset of 10 titles from Paulo Coelho, and one of it is The Alchemist. I couldn't find any copies that weren't in a boxset so I had them all for 10 bucks each. A steal, right? I'm not the type of person who read book reviews so I had no idea what the book was about but I knew it was good. Did you know that Malaysia's current Minister of Education listed this as one of his favourite books? Now you do.

As someone who has dreamed of traveling the world, the storyline is amazing. The characters' personality are well defined and written in the story. The ending is perfect. Although Catholic influence is very strong in Paulo's writings, I find that most of its principles align with Islam very well and there are a lot of lessons that you can learn from this book, especially if you are someone who likes sitting in their comfort zones, like me. One of the scenarios in the book was set in the middle east and there was definitely mentions about Islam, Allah and the Quran. I like it when non-Muslims know or write about us, especially of the good things. It makes me feel less strange to the world.

As I've mentioned, I'm someone who likes my comfort zones. I'm not a risk-taker. Whenever I have to make a decision, I will think of the worst possible scenarios for every options and take the one that would give me the least hassle. I have a lot of fears. For someone who would love to explore the world, these fears and comfort zones hold me back. This book is about the very thing opposite of me– bravery. I really wish I don't overthink of my actions instead of just doing them, but it's easier said than done. I obviously have a lot of personal issues to work out on. But after reading this book, I've finally started to (seriously) save money for future travels as a new year's resolution. Small, consistent steps go a long way ;) 

This book to me is also a depiction of the saying, faith can move mountains. When you have deep faith in something, you can listen better to your guts and follow them. It makes you be accepting of what happens to you, which is what Islam teaches us about– qada' and qadr. I definitely don't know how to elaborate further on this because I never read reviews so I don't know how to do them but please pick this book up and experience it yourself.

Here's a picture of my favourite lines in the book. Hope it makes you wanna be brave to chase your dreams like it did to me.

The year is about to end in 4 days. This time last year I was still at the worst phase of my entire life, a soulless person trying to escape her darkness by traveling with her uncle's family to Tokyo. After a few weeks of desolation and without any written resolutions, I started coming back to life. I lost myself after series of terrible situations that made me lose all my self worth, almost to the point of self harm. It was the year that I began to take little steps of improvement that I wasn't exactly aware of. Maybe it was because I have more time to focus on myself so I did. Starting from physical appearances to health to interpersonal skills, I did it all. 2018 was the year that I began a solid skincare routine, subscribed to a fitness program and started working out, started being health conscious and watching what I feed my body, started cooking my own food and tried out a lot of recipes, started being closer to my mum and sister, traveled to Indonesia with them, started learning a third language, started watercoloring and cleaning and tidying, managed to pass all my units for the year after lots of 'N' on my script, started saving money, started making friends in uni, reached out (first) to old friends to reconnect and started being more social... oh well, the list goes on and on.

All without the help of anti-depressants.

At some point of my life, I thought I was one of those who had to rely on pills to be happy. Of course, there's nothing wrong with taking medications if you're sick, but I always wanted to prove myself that I could do this on my own. I wanted to create my own healthy coping mechanisms. Despite being hinted many times by my counsellor to have my blood checked, I opted for the natural remedies. Yes, they worked slowly but wonderfully although I do have a period of relapse somewhere in May and then a smaller episode of relapse towards the end of second semester, but I made it through. I really made it through. Who says progress has to be linear?

Of course, I have yet to figure out where I'm going with my life. Actually, I have a lot to figure out. As a means of trying to find a direction in life, I've chopped a lot of my hair (although that has nothing to do with life lol) and started to save money a little more seriously. I've also invested in a pretty expensive bullet journal (sis is a cheapskate) that I plan to really put myself into, making it my side-kick as I go through another year trying to better myself. Putting my deen as my priority, I hope Allah will direct me to Him and ease me to learn more about Islam and practice it. I've made a few changes in terms of my religious routine so hopefully that goes well into the new year.

2018 has witnessed my recovery, so I hope to be presenting my exponent growth to 2019.

Since I don't want to just sleep during my summer break, I mentioned that I wanted to jump back into reading and read as many books as I can in these three months time. This week at my hometown I picked up and finished a title from Mitch Albom called For One More Day. I feel so amazing already for being able to finish it within a week, but let's not talk about how amazing I am and focus on how amazing the book is instead. I know, I know, you can stop clapping.

I didn't actually read the synopsis of the book but I had read from a lot of places that Mitch Albom writes some pretty good stuff so I thought I'd just give it a read. Turned out it was about (okay I don't know how to do this) love that lots of people take for granted. As a woman who grew up without dating and in a family where intimacy is hard between us, I find myself sometimes longing for love, affection and attention from a significant other. Far at the back of my mind I know I should seek it from within myself, the people close to me and most importantly from my Creator, but that's it – it only stays at the back of my mind.

Reading this book has made me resurface this fact. I look back and realise all the times that I have been distant from my own family members, even though for the past couple of years I have been trying to change the situation. I could say that my relationship with my family has improved, except for that with my father. In the book, Chick "lost his mother to death", and he "lost his father to shame". On the other hand, I lost my father to death, and I would never ever wish to lose my mother to shame.

As I have mentioned, I have been trying the best I can to mend things with my family and the relationship between my mother and I have been a lot better, even though I still keep some personal things to myself. However, while reading this book, my mind always get transported back to the memories I have with my father. There are not many, but are still vivid.

I never lived with my father. He lived separately with my extended family but he would always come to visit, or we would always stop by their place while traveling back hometown. My father was artsy. He used to take unused school books from his children and draw in them. He wrote poetry too. I only remember one or two of them but I would be so inspired that I started drawing too. He used to do magics too. He would do his tricks whenever he came to visit us and I would be amazed every time. He taught us a few of his tricks but to this day, I only remember one.

My father was wise with his words. I remember when I was 15, he picked me up one day from school in KB, and asked me about my friends. I told him about how my old friends from the previous school gave me so many presents as parting gifts, and he told me that was how they appreciated me and meant that I was a good friend to them. I always struggled with self-love since I was young but at that moment, I probably teared up a little because his words made me feel a little appreciative of myself.

When I was 17 I got all As for my GCSE. I was happy but not exactly over the moon about it. One weekend, I was on the laptop in my room carrying on with my life as usual, and he was there visiting for a while. Before he went back, he came over to my room and kissed me on my forehead as a congratulations on my result. I was taken aback, didn't say anything except for a little smile and returned back to my laptop because it felt so strange. If I were more thankful for my results, it wasn't because of the straight As but his kiss instead.

When I was 19 I was late for my bus back to college. He was driving me there. My mother was there too. When we arrived at the bus station we saw the bus leaving. He stopped the car immediately and ran out to chase the bus for me. I had been in his situation before and I knew how embarrassing it felt but it didn't matter. Before I hurriedly got on the bus, body still high from the adrenaline, I shaked his hands and unconsciously hugged him and kissed his cheeks, as how I used to do it with my friends. It didn't feel as strange anymore, but in the bus after I calmed down, it dawned on me how weird it was to salam my father like that, because I never did that before, ever. But boy was I glad that I did.

I was turning 23 when he started getting really sick, and since then he rarely called me anymore. I didn't call him a lot because I was so caught up with life away in Shah Alam. I used to wonder why he hadn't called as much, but I never picked up the phone myself and asked him. I really wish I did. I wish I was closer to him. I wish I knew more about him. I wish I wasn't as shy as a kid that I never got rid of the thought of him being a stranger. I wish I hadn't run away whenever he wanted to talk more to me. I wish I stood up more for him.I wish I was more chatty with him. I wish I was nicer to him. I wish I had called him more often, or as often as he would call me.

But now he's gone, I'm 24 and I can't call him on the phone anymore.

So appreciate your folks when you still have the chance. It's the right thing to do. If anything, this should make me want to work hard for jannah so I could be reunited with him and do all the things I wish I had and hadn't done with him, eternally.

This is Farahana Nur signing off, trying to stifle a sob.

After what seems to be years (literally), I am finally through my fifth year of my bachelor's degree, and I am still not done. Yes, you read it right. The degree that should have been three years, but it's going to take me six years to complete. It's longer than a medical degree ffs. I have been under-loading and failing my units due to a lot of circumstances, some of them being the passing of my dad and trouble managing my time and difficulty with the da'wah circle that I was in. I was almost at the point of quitting altogether but for some reason, I am still here, although barely passing my units, trying as hard as I can to be a normal student living her university life – making friends, joining clubs and societies, taking part in events etc. all the things that I didn't do for the first 4 years, and most importantly, healing. I can't wait to be done with this because it feels like I have been held back for too long. It is time I progress into a new phase of life.

Anyways, I now have three months of summer holiday. The long awaited break is finally here but three days after my last exam, I am already losing my mind due to boredom. I was so focused on finishing the semester that I hadn't thought of what to do afterwards. I was supposed to be doing a voluntary placement/internship during this summer break but since my grandmother had gotten sick in the past month, it seems like I am the one who's going to take care of her for the time being. I am really scared of being really inactive for the whole three months so I am planning to do a lot of things to occupy myself (planning, as usual). I mentioned about this in my daily journal but let's put it here for a better documentation. It'll be a great satisfaction to check the list as we go through it, no?

• finish my watercolor papers (by painting of course)
• exercise four times a week
• read at least 5 pages of a book every day
• consistent post in my blog
• try cooking new recipes
• 15 minutes of French lessons on Duo every day
• swim every chance I get
• spring cleaning
• sell/donate old clothes and books