Nepenthe

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

My anxiety was sky-rocketing last week. I skipped a lot of classes because I felt like I couldn't face anyone. I spent a lot of time in my bed scrolling my screen through a lot of social media, web comics, blogs, vlogs, youtube videos and so on until they all became boring. I felt dead again. I didn't know what was the trigger this time but the lag during my mid-semester break definitely took the inertia as I struggled to come back on track. One song into my 'cloudy' playlist and I was already breaking down into tears in my car.

I am still learning the healthy coping mechanisms that would help me. I know cleaning, cooking and working out helps, but I've been trying out writing and watercolour painting. Today marks the first day that I've finished an A4 page of painting. It wasn't actually a painting, just swatches of my watercolour cakes and a side painting of a sunset, but I love it nevertheless. I am currently liking the fact that I'm trying out and learning as much skills as I can before I graduate. One of them should involve social interactions but let me just indulge in introverted activities for now. As of now, I am focusing on learning French, swimming and painting.

I am a perfectionist, and this characteristic affects my anxiety a lot. I can't stand doing half-ass work, and if I'm not confident about doing something, I won't do it at all. I know learning to paint is going to teach me huge lessons regarding perfectionism and anxiety. I know my first try isn't going to be perfect, but I am willing to try and not stop halfway due to my untalented ass lol. Even from the first page, I've already learned that I am not so patient (I had to wait for the paint to dry before layering but I did not so it leaked everywhere -_-). So this is it, my first page of drawing, with cheap watercolour cakes, brushes and papers. I have sooooo many negative comments about it but for today, let me just settle with 'nice' (I'm being a lot nicer to myself, yes). My mood improves tremendously after looking at this imperfect, sloppy painting (ironic) and I just can't wait to finish my sketchbook and grow better in painting by the end of it.

To those of you who are reading this, I hope you take a chance to learn something new for yourself. Life is short, you have to try everything.

This is Farahana Nur listening to Mirror by Bazzi.

I've been eyeing this product for a while but I just wasn't sure if it was gonna work well and worth my money (because I'm a cheapskate). But when I heard that they were going to stop producing this, I immediately knew that I had to give it a try. I've been using it for about 3 weeks, one pump twice per day before moisturiser and I could say that it's been working quite well with my skin. My hormonal acne still comes every other day, but they healed up pretty fast and didn't leave a mark as dark as before I used this essence. As for hydration, it didn't do much for my oily dehydrated skin so I still need to invest in a good moisturiser for this problem. Overall, I hope the rumour isn't true and they will continue producing this because I will definitely repurchase!

     2.   Music: The album Cosmic by Bazzi.

This was released around April this year and I only started listening to the full album this month and I just gotta say that he got me hooooked! I love almost every song in this album, they're just so good that by now I probably know half of his lyrics, it's definitely my vibe. I've been replaying it every chance I get. I was gonna list out my favourite songs from this album but then I would be listing out the whole album lol. If you like soft hip-hop mixed with rnb and a little bit of pop, you should definitely check this album out here.

     3.   Book: The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck by Mark Manson

Honestly I haven't finished this book and I've started reading it a few months ago (no shame), but this is one of those books that you have to take your time reading it because every page and every chapter is filled with truth that makes you question your life so you gotta slowly digest every sentence. With just a few chapters in, I can already feel my mindset and lifestyle changing towards the better, and helping out with my internal issues but yes, you gotta deal with a lot of tough transitions. Nevertheless, I assure you that after all the rain comes the rainbow. I feel like most of his principles are just the basic teachings of Islam which made it really really comforting because you know you're in the right religion/deen. This book, personally for me, explains the practical ways of the theories that you learn from Islam, so that's really good. Go and pick this up even though you feel like you already have a good life; it's just gonna make it better.

At the end of week 8 of a busy semester, I decided to skip Friday's one-hour lecture and drive myself to Cherating where I'd meet my family for a micro holiday weekend. I couldn't remember the last time we came here; we used to come every year for a short getaway with our family. It was the perfect place to celebrate my turning 24; the place that felt like home. Despite having to steal time to finish a group assignment, I'd say I had a pretty good time chilling. It wasn't really convenient to have to work while you're on holiday, I only managed to get just a little bit done for the assignment, but the beach was relaxing enough to keep the stress at bay. Look at the spot where I managed to read 1 paragraph about my assignment before it started getting too warm and I had to head back to our air-conditioned room. What a spoiled brat, I know.

We booked two rooms which are a part of a villa at The Legend Resort, Cherating - spacious rooms with double beds and sofa beds to accommodate guests, plus amazing view of the beach. I don't know how much they were per night, but you can always google them to check them out.



Asked my cousin to take this photo of me. I was legit doing my work after taking pictures, I promise. As you can guess, it was very relaxing. Most of the time we were either taking pictures or swimming. Talk about swimming, I finally know how to swim! At 24! I was doing my work while my family was swimming in the pool. 15 minutes later I turned off my laptop and joined them, decided that I had to learn how to swim as a gift to myself. And I did! It definitely took a few amount of pool water through my nose and mouth but it was all worth it!

As I was getting my family to teach me swimming, I was thinking back on how I became so scared of the water. I used to drown myself in a swimming pool when I was a kid. I only remembered waving my arms and legs helplessly as I tried to float back on surface but to no avail. A relative saved me after a few seconds which felt like a solid 10 minutes, but that event scarred me for life. It felt like a total failure for me. Since then, I never really liked being in the water. I feared the feeling of being incapable in the water. I feared looking stupid while I fail again and again to become good. It took me almost twenty years later to finally have the courage to learn to swim again, starting from the trip to Perhentian Island with my friends. Since then, I've been more motivated to equip myself with new skills, which include painting/making art and learning new languages, where I focus on French.

I'm so glad I took the chance. It makes me realise that the only person who can help you is you. The only person who will help you grow is you. The only person who will be patient with every step of your growth is you. If you were not courageous enough to do it, no 100 other people can make you. As I learn this, I've also realised that working on my fear is a progress. A progress that may take twenty thirty years. A progress that may not be linear. And that is totally okay, because a progress is still a progress, no matter how small :)

Which makes me think about my undergraduate journey. It has been 5 long years, and only 1 more before I graduate. I was thinking about how I might not be able to fix my WAM to average, and how it seemed impossible for me to do an exchange semester abroad. I knew I was getting myself back on track, but it wasn't as fast as I wished it to be. It's taking a whole lot of patience and kindness to tell myself "It's okay if it doesn't work out, at least you're improving." because my inner critic will always be there to tell me "So much regret. I wish you were serious from the start. I wish you didn't make mistakes." but I'm okay. I'm not as opposed to failure as I was before. I'm okay. I don't have to be excellent overnight.

I'm a work in progress.

I'm okay.