Nepenthe

I have a collection of things that I wanted to write about but I keep putting them off until I have some spare time, but when I do, words just don't flow out of my fingers anymore. Then I figured that writing needs emotions (although it's a known fact to everybody else), that's why when we read things that are written with emotions, you kind of get the same feeling as the writer. And as I recall past events that happened to me recently, I realise that they don't really matter much now that it has passed. Is this why people say, time heals?

But they do still matter, just not with that much emotions. Maybe the wound has healed, but the scar is still there. The pain has subsided but it leaves an unbearable numbness. I remember when I decided to get away from all social media, mainly facebook, instagram and tumblr, just so that I can focus more on my uni work. But it doesn't seem to really work, and I've been killing time by doing old stuff that I should have never done. Quoting IHAB, those who kill time kills themselves, and that's exactly what's happening to me. I'm killing myself. What wounded me was myself. Fluctuations happen, physically and emotionally. My body temperature as well as my mood and my iman goes up and down crazier than a roller coaster. I waste second chances, I ruin new opportunities, I go back to the hellhole. I'm hurt and broken.

Dear Allah Al-Jabbar,
Fix me where I'm broken. Heal me where I'm hurt.

8-9 Oktober. Daurah simulasi kehidupan seorang manusia. When asked why they came to the program, most of them said, they lost something. Darnah specifically said she lost herself. Too long of a semester break had broken them and they came here to mend it.

This was a month after they came back from their break, after a month of usrah, and I thought, haven't I mend anything? It occurred to me, although knowing this little fact for quite a long time, that you can't pour into the cups if your pot is empty. You can't rule a kingdom if you can't function properly.

You can't mend someone's heart if yours is broken and not taken care of. And that breaks me even more.

As soon as the door had closed, I patted Hayley's (bukan nama sebenar) thigh.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

Silence.

"No, please don't cry." I said.

But I defied my own words and burst into tears. I tried to numb my mind and feelings. I tried not to think. But I couldn't. Tears flowed down my cheeks, and I heard another sob next to me. Hayley.

We both cried. I stared at the ticking clock as tears streamed down my face, but I couldn't count how many minutes we sat there sobbing. When we calmed down a little, I layed down and closed my eyes, still trying to not think about anything. Still trying not to let demons whisper words and assumptions to my ears.

A moment passed, and then I lost it.

Millions of intense thoughts came shooting into my head. I started to cry so hard. I felt anxious. Then my chest felt so constricted. My breathing got so difficult. I felt like ripping my chest out because I couldn't breathe well. I felt like dying. Little coughs. Then I brought myself up in a sitting position so it wouldn't get worse.

Then Hayley came behind my back and patted my chest. Just like how Rasulullah ran his hand down Mus'ab's chest when he was beyond excited listening to Allah's words for the first time. But in my case, I was far from excited. I continued wheezing for God knows how long. And Hayley continued hugging me from behind and patting my chest. She cried too, on my shoulder. I held her hands, trying to somewhat tell her that I was so weak and broken.

"Lailahaillallah, muhammad rasulullah." I tried to recite my syahadah through my wheeze several times, in case I'd die that night. Midnight, it crossed my mind that I could be gone forever.

"Istighfar... Astaghfirullah." Hayley tried to calm me down, still patting my chest from behind. I was still gasping for air. I couldn't feel my feet. I wanted to rip my chest open. I wanted to die. I couldn't control it. I tried so hard to calm down.

After several long breaths forcing myself to calm down, I managed to stop. My hands still in Hayley's. Alhamdulillah for these hands. The aftermath? My head pulak yang throbbing. Oh the pain. It doubled on the inside. Several months ago, when this similar attack happened in Dhuha, it took longer for me to finally breathe properly because I was alone. 3 am, similar case. Not the same, but similar in so many ways.

Hayley folded my fingers and said, "Pergi ambil wudhuk, solat, mintak dekat Allah." So I did. Showered as if to wash the pain off. Then I read the Quran as well. Didn't realize how many surah I finished. Trying to rationalize.

I wasn't sad because she decided to leave us. I was sad because when she left, she closed the door without looking or saying anything. I was sad because I said "Assalamualaikum." but she didn't answer. I was sad because I felt like she didn't even want to be here, around me. I was sad because jalan dnt ni dah hurt her so much. I was sad because she was so torn inside. Dalam tu, mungkin dah lunyai. I didn't mind her leaving to another place. If Allah said she needed to go, then I'd comply. But I was sad because I didn't do anything to help mend that broken heart. I tried, but maybe it wasn't enough, or maybe it was just too late because she already made her decision. I'd be so frustrated if she actually left because of the pain. Cuma kerana rasa, perasaan. I was so scared if she left but she'd still get the same pain elsewhere.

Then I realized, I was also sad because of the anxiety. Feeling down because you did something wrong. Fearing stuff that might happen. The fear and the anxiety are living inside me, and I don't know how to get rid of it — except for being in tarbiah.

Anyways, that's a different story. As for you, I hope things get better for you. I hope you rise back up higher than you ever were. I hope you'll find what you're looking for. And I'm sorry I didn't know how to reciprocate the love you gave me.

If this is farewell, please know that I'll always love you the same, near or far, lillahi ta'ala.

It's now 3 am, again. Good night. Let go.

I kind of just want to update on the email my lecturer sent me. Turns out he just wanted me to submit all the assignments so he can help me pass the unit. What a kind soul. He even offered me an hour to discuss the lecture materials. So yeah, I have an hour of one-on-one tutorial with the professor next Monday.

And today I suddenly feel a strong push behind me making me want to do my assignments well and now. I also feel like I'm not gonna fail this semester. This makes me realise how some things weirdly become better by just talking to someone, no matter you know them or not. Memories of recent events also flashed in my mind, making me agree more to my conclusion. My anak usrah was telling me the other night how she couldn't bring herself up for qiam. That night we kinda talked about it a bit, I offered help but she said she wanted to do it on her own. Next morning, she texted me saying she did. I didn't do anything, only a quiet prayer but the rest was Allah's doing.

So this is a message to my future self: whenever feeling down, just talk to someone. It'll get better.

This is FRHN feeling motivated.

It was almost 1 in the a.m. when I was walking home, body quite shaking because I was too hungry. I did eat for breakfast, lunch and dinner but I seem to have lost control of my appetite. Ate some crackers and now I'm dedicating several minutes to write before I continue finishing my lab report that was due two days ago.

Talk about losing control, I have also lost the control to my sleep. I wanted to stay up doing work but I just can't control when my eyelids close. My appetite has gone huge. My sleep drive has gone huge. What is happening to me? I do realise that those are some of the little signs of depression. I don't know, I just haven't felt really empty yet like I was last time. Do you know if depression is coming or does it just happen?

I received an email from my professor, the same professor that told me to pull up my socks last semester, that he wanted to see me tomorrow regarding my long-due report. I'm so scared. No, not scared of him. But I'm scared that I have to converse to a stranger and I'm scared knowing the fact that I might have to open up to someone I don't know. I guess I'm still living in my tiny bubble. And I don't like it being poked. You know how people say introverts can be extroverts if they want to. Well, I try sometimes… but I fail. It wasn't fun.

I haven't replied to his email. I'm not planning to see him. I'm forcing myself to stay awake to finish this goddamn report and submit it to him tomorrow before he knows it. Wish me well.

This is FRHN, clueless as ever.

Decided to skip a lecture today because I know I won't understand a thing the lecturer says. Wanted to finish some deen work, write my thoughts and catch up on lectures today, but I only crossed out two items off the list. You can guess which one that didn't make it. I really really miss studying but I just can't bring myself to.

Last few days I have been thinking about me losing my motivation in life. I keep on procrastinating and putting off things until the last minute. "I should be studying." has only become a mantra that I whisper on a day to day basis. There are so many things that I want to do – I'd really love to start reading again, take care of my skin, socialise more, do more of my deen work, travel to spread peace – but I just can't seem to bring myself to it. What the hell is my problem?

Several days ago all those thoughts came again. I started thinking about all those sad and unhealthy things that previously pulled my spirit down the drain. Just when I thought I have recovered. I started to feel empty inside, like I have no purpose and there was no point of continuing on doing what I'm doing. I don't know where I'm headed to. I started putting my earphones on and listening to music that's either loud or sad. I've also started eating so much these past few weeks and today suddenly I felt like suppressing my appetite (only ate cookies and bread and drank water). Now I'm finding myself cooped up at the corner of the library until it closes again. I never realised what triggered me four months ago, and I still have no clue this time.

Maybe it's my sins that are weighing me down.

The library is closing in 10 minutes. Bye.

I'm counting days. To what, you ask? I'm not even sure myself. I'm just counting. Every second, every minute, every day… but I don't know what to do with my counts. My surrounding is in slow motion, no, more like a blur. I'm walking but I don't know where I am.

I received my exam results two days ago. More fails; I only passed one unit out of three. I don't know what to do anymore. I feel like I'm carrying a heavy bag around but there's nothing inside. You know, that feeling when you've worked quite hard but all you have is really nothing. I'm trying to not let my results define my situation but it's not working. I'm slowly absorbing the fact that I might never be good at studying again. Sure, I'll plan my next semester, my next routine, my agenda, my bullet journal, all the calendars and all the rules… but it's coming at me – the feeling of being a failure. Why is it so hard to restrain yourself? Why is it so hard to have control over yourself, over what you want, over what you do?

How do people be so positive? How do people make it? God this is impossible.

I met my high school friends several days ago for a friend's wedding reception. And there's this one girl, who was my classmate in senior year, she's the almost perfect definition of a lady – knows her way around, polite, friendly, good with the elderly, the kids, people around her age, responsible, but mainly she knows her way around. As I look at her from the corner of my eye, I thought to myself, how does she do that? How do I be this girl?

Now look at me trying to be someone else. I hate it. But I hate myself even more. My mind is so tainted with self-hate, I can't seem to recover from it.

Anyways, have a listen to (Un)Lost by The Maine. Perfect lyrics. Thank you to a fellow boybander Cal for introducing me to this.

Reading a few books (which is a lot for me) to be able to concentrate again. Finals are approaching really fast and I've only done little studying; it's going very slow for me. I need to be able to concentrate again.

I seem to not be really attached to writing what I feel anymore. Maybe because the sadness has subsided a bit. The thoughts did come sometimes, but it wasn't as bad as it was before. Bought a pair of slip-ons which somehow made me feel better. Been talking to people. Been laughing. Buying people gifts.

Maybe I'm recovering.

I'm that kind of person who laughs uncontrollably one hour to distract myself from negative thoughts, tricking my mind that I'm happy, but cry the next because I know I was just lying to myself.

I finally did my presentation yesterday, which sucked balls. And the feedback was terrible. I was an hour late, I couldn't answer all the questions even simpler ones, and he was so frustrated that he didn't even want to really talk to me or look at my face. I tried to forget this particular scene to avoid downgrading myself but I couldn't. The memory keeps replaying itself in my mind. And each time, I hate myself more and more. I think I'm gonna fail all subjects this semester. I know I can't afford it. I'm fighting the urge to give up. I'm fighting.

I don't see a way out. How do you be positive?

I'm failing miserably in my study. On that thought, I'm also failing miserably in being a murabbi. I'm failing in being a muslim. Ah fuck it, I'm failing in just being a sensible human being. As much as I want to avoid self-hate, I can't avoid the fact that I'm just a failure in general.

This is FRHN listening to The Girl Who Cried Wolf by 5SOS.

I was about to cry in the midst of doing my assignment and I thought of writing my emotions down but somehow I ended up on someone else's blog and the feeling was gone. I see what you did there, mood swings.

A few events occurred since I last wrote here. One of them being me confessing about what had happened to me, and what I had been feeling like in the past month to my deen family. I thought it would end right there, but the truth is I'm still masking myself from the world. I told them I'd be fine because I knew it was all just in my head. I was able to ignore and became someone else that seemed fine to people. Then a few days ago I broke down again. It hurt so bad inside I just wanted to slash my body to pieces because of how useless I felt. All feelings came attacking me out of a sudden, it was like they were lurking behind my head and as if on cue, ambushed me from behind and I cried and cried in the shower and during prayers because I felt like I wasn't capable of anything. Being a murabbi? What the hell. My eyes were bloodshot and puffy, people noticed and I was up so late that night. Managed to get some sleep for a couple hours then I had to wake up again for work with my eyes so swollen, they felt warm somehow and it didn't feel right in my body. My mind started being a mess again and I was lost. All the colours faded.

See a war I wanna fight it

See a match I wanna strike it

Every fire I've ignited

Faded to grey

The answer is there. I'm just refraining myself from seeing it.

I was quite scared of the crowd in the area but I gradually managed to push the feeling aside. It wasn't like the scene you watch in Tangled where Rapunzel witnessed the sky lanterns in front of her eyes for the first time, but it was good enough for me. Every time a lantern was lit I couldn't help but think that those were my thoughts, my worries, my anxieties, and my problems burning, ready to set off. And in the moment those hands let go of the beautiful lanterns, and when the lights flew slowly up and became smaller and smaller before disappearing out of sight, I couldn't help but whisper under my breath… "Let it go."

Alhamdulillah it's a better day today. This morning I woke up at 4 am (too early to my liking but I couldn't fall back to sleep so I got up) and showered, did my qiamullail and then hunger came. So I ate everything I could find in the kitchen that I share with 15 other people in the house. Alhamdulillah there was leftover food from last night, and alhamdulillah my appetite came back. I drove to uni at 6.30 so early in the am, didn't get the chance to see the sunrise but I loved the darkness anyway. I still haven't been able to really push myself to attend classes because I still feel overwhelmed in the presence of too many people around me, but I went to the lab session at 9. I was supposed to hand in a lab report but I haven't finished it because yesterday I was too lost in my own thoughts to concentrate. However I managed to submit the report, which I started late last night, at 5.42 pm. It was late, but I couldn't care less. I also ate a plateful of rice and chicken curry and fried long beans today, which costed me RM5.50, but I couldn't care less. I didn't know which playlist to pick, Rage or Beats or Depressed, but eventually I decided to listen to songs that I like. I felt like every songs were trash and I was skipping songs halfway through listening to it the whole time, but I couldn't care less. I have to admit that I am a little proud of myself today; proud for making it.

I'm going to do my pile of unfinished lab reports. I'm going to see my adik usrah tonight. I'm going for my own usrah on Sunday. I'm going to class on Monday. I'm going to talk to my friends today, have a little bit of normal conversation. I'm going to take up reading to distract my own mind. I'm going to eat well and sleep well.

I hope tomorrow I don't wake up like yesterday.

Found myself reading my previous blog and thought, "Wow I have been a sad person for a long time."

Last weekend I went for a daurah with the others, and I thought that had to be the chance for me to recover from feeling sad. On our way there, I was quite chirpy, and told my friend, "What if I told you I am depressed?" and she said she would believe me. But I didn't think she understands what depression is like. I stayed awake during the journey and thought to myself maybe I have recovered. During the weekend, I was able to focus and hid my emotions really well (at that time I didn't know if I was really okay or my feelings were just bottled up and shipped somewhere far). I prayed well, cried once or twice letting my heart out to Allah. I even decided to attend classes from that day on. I was talking about positivity but I realised deep down I wasn't even sure. I was saying that I'm recovering maybe to just trick my brain in hope that things would eventually be fine.

Then there was Monday. I couldn't remember what I did that day. I was supposed to finish a lab report but I didn't, and eventually I didn't turn it in. Tuesday morning when I woke up, I've never felt like shit as I did on that day. It was just an unfinished lab report but all I felt was like my whole world was crumbling down. I wasn't mad at my friends but I ended up not really talking to them and I was sure that I appeared like I was mad at everyone, when the truth is I was just too scared to look at their faces. Whenever I had to be around them, I put my earphones on and played sad/angst songs loudly. I sat at the uni library, still couldn't remember what I exactly did, waited until 9 pm to actually move my butt to KL to attend to my sister and family. Wednesday I had to take the family to my sister's interview. Waking up that morning I still felt like a mess, dreading to finish the day but I knew I had to push myself because of my family so I did. But even in their presence I still felt sad and almost cried but I managed to hid it in. God knows when the last time I savoured a proper meal but I was confused with my own appetite. I felt hungry and wanted to eat everything but at the same time I didn't feel like eating. Also my sleep drive this week was way beyond control. At the uni library I was probably sleeping heavily on the desk. I wanted to sleep and sleep only and never wanted to wake up again (which was probably why I was so upset when I had to wake up). If I wasn't sharing a house with 14 other people I'd most probably never wake up, lie in bed and watch the days pass by. When I tried doing my assignments, I'd type out several easy sentences then I'd feel really sleepy and resort to sleep instead. Today I packed up my clothes and toiletries because I was thinking of sleeping alone at some other place tonight, but I realised that I had nowhere else to go and I had to be present for lab tomorrow morning. Bummed. 

This has been going on for about a month. The point of trying to get people's attention has shifted to the point of isolation. Part of me wanted this to be just a phase and would like to recover sooner, but there's another part of me that wanted to be this hurt forever, I wanted to stay locked in my own dark world forever. Let me be alone.

brit·tle ['bridl]

adjective hard but liable to break or shatter easily.

My thoughts are wilder lately. At first I was confused of whether these feelings are valid or my mind is just making them up. I keep thinking that my emotions might be wrong. It kind of hit me whenever I cross the streets and see cars or lorries coming… when I'm around stationaries and I see a pair of scissors… when I see knives, when I see water, when I see walls… I accidentally broke my nail last week and god knows how happy I am to inflict even an ounce of physical pain to myself. That's when I think it's kind of real. Instead of self-harm, I resort to listening to loud music, finding happy songs and doing other stuff to shut these thoughts in the back of my mind, but you see, when you understand your purpose of life (2:30 and 51:56), you know your resorts are all wrong but you just can't bring yourself to the right track – it makes me confused as hell. I've been neglecting my deen a bit, I did some assignments and some others I just throw them away, and I don't even feel sorry for myself. I don't know where to go, I don't know what to do, I don't want to see anyone. I want to shut people out. I don't want the world to see me. I want to run far away from people but being around akhawat, I admit it helps a little when I have normal conversations with them but I don't know if I was being myself or I was just faking it – hell I know that I fake it well. Deep inside I know I'm supposed to seek help but I can't bring myself to do it. I can't explain well, but it's hard when you're the kind of person that forgets everything after you get some sleep but in the current situation you wake up each morning feeling upset without no reason, and feeling like you don't wanna wake up at all.

I hate being like this because it restrains me from my commitments. I have huge commitments – tarbiah diri, dakwi, usrahmates, RI, akhawat, studying – and understanding 2:30 and 51:56, I know I have to do them well. But having this sadness chokes me. It feels like something in your throat is swelling and you literally wanna throw up. I haven't had a constant proper meal for weeks. It's always been just a bottle of water and some biscuits. And when I drive to uni (yes I still go) and back, each time I say a little prayer deeply hoping that I won't do something stupid like crashing myself into someone else's car. And at times, instead of zikrullah I'd whisper to myself either "No." or "Don't do it." or "Stop." or "Fuck this shit." repeated times.

So far either my mind is still sane or there's a little iman that's left in myself that's keeping me under control. It's so heavy and I'm physically and emotionally tired. My heart wishes that this, whatever this is, would stop. That's all I hope for. But my mind tells me go kill yourself and that's all I can ever think of.

This is FRHN listening to Jet Black Heart by 5SOS.

Plays Iridiscent.

Let me tell you what’s been in my head lately:

To blast out screamo songs until my ears hurt, or bleed, or until something breaks. To scratch my skin until blood oozes out. To hit my head on the wall multiple times until either the wall or my head cracks. To drown myself in the sea whenever I drink water. A car crash. Ripping my chest open. Blood. Tall walls. A knife. Black. Being in a small room. These four walls are gonna crush me. A war. Electrocution. Falling. Old people, death and screams.

Allah, where are You? I miss You. I don’t know what’s wrong with myself. I don’t want to be depressed. I want to fight these self-hurting thoughts. It’s got so amplified I can’t hide it anymore. I want it to stop.

Stop…

I once didn't know where to go. Heck. I didn't even realise I wasn't sure of where I was going. But You gave me the light to show me where I should go. I know I hadn't been the best of 'abid but I ask from You ya rabb, don't give up on me just yet. Not now.

Every time I am on the edge of letting go, I remind myself of those early times when I was chosen. Every time I feel like losing control of myself, those are the things that I keep to help me soldier on. It's amazing how You're still holding me after all that I've done, or haven't done. So I humbly ask You to hold me forever, please ya rabb.

"…and He found you lost and guided you."

— Ad-Dhuha, verse 7.

Looks like my writing mojo is back...

I start my fifth semester (already?!) in Monash next week. I don't usually do resolutions but this time - that feels like a new beginning to me - it doesn't feel right to not have any. Obviously a lot had happen since I last write in here I don't know what I should start with. I'm not gonna spend hours re-digging my memories, but to make things short, the things that happened have shaped what goals I set for new beginnings like this, so let's go with the future.

After several fails with my study, I feel like I should reevaluate my life. Failing doesn't sound good at all. Failing either means God is testing you or you didn't put enough effort. To me, based on what I have gone through, it is the latter because I know I could've worked harder than I did, but I simply didn't. Looking at my old revision books whenever I come home makes me miss being smart and getting good grades. I scored an A+ for Additional Math ffs. Of course, getting good grades is not everything, but with studying being the biggest part of my life (read: alat) right now, I feel that failing it means I'm failing life.

I have never been as concerned with my study as I am right now.

Sometimes it feels like the me before tarbiah was better that who I am right now, and it shouldn't be that way. So I'm gonna put more effort into getting the old me back. And it's nice to know that there's a good reward waiting for you at the end of your effort. The results, a ticket to Indonesia and of course, a reason for you to excel your DNT and get yourself a seat in heaven.