I wanted everything I never had
Like the love that comes with light
I wore envy and I hated that
But I survived
I had a one-way ticket to a place where all the demons go
Where the wind don’t change
And nothing in the ground can ever grow
No hope, just lies
And you’re taught to cry into your pillow
~ Alive, Sia
For years I had no good ways of expressing my agony. I wasn’t even allowed to cry in my bedroom when I needed to. I didn’t even have a bedroom of my own, as I shared one with my younger brother. The number of nights in which I wanted to sob or scream but suppressed my voice as not to be heard are just countless. That was regarding the space I had in my home, or rather lacked.
The streets or public places are another story. Egyptians just don’t know the concepts of personal space and personal freedom. Anyone is allowed to be in an uncomfortable proximity of you without feeling that there’s anything wrong. People could stare at you or at your phone or books (whatever you’re carrying) and think they have the right to comment on it or ask you the most private of questions about your life and/or your beliefs. Your friends and colleagues, similarly, don’t know the meaning of boundaries. Your life and personal affairs are their birthright and they’ll take any attempt to protect your privacy as an insult or sometimes worse: as a challenge! And it’s not even the good type of intimacy; i.e. they’re not doing it because they care, rather it’s merely to satisfy their ill curiosity and compensate for the emptiness of their own lives, I believe. So if anything, it made you feel even lonelier because you felt that everyone literally wants to get under your skin and invade your privacy, and you just have to keep fighting back to protect the ownership of your own self and life. (Perhaps one of the reasons I feel I have intimacy issues)
I had imagined that when I graduated and had a job in a different city, I would at least have a private bedroom, but I found out that rent was too expensive and I had to share my bedroom with someone else to be able to afford it.
Here in Ireland, for the first time in my life I feel I have personal freedom and space. And I’m naturally very happy to have them after wanting them for so many years. But is it natural that I feel I want to enjoy this as much as I can, yet still feel lonely? Does it make sense to hate being lonely and want space in the exact same time?
Not a single person in my life currently knows all of this and how I really feel, and I want to keep it like this, at least for now. I don’t feel that I’m ready to trust anyone with all this, then lose them as usual. It will only make my heart darker and colder.
I sometimes wonder, though: I feel I have no home, no family, no country, no friends, that I hate myself and who I am, that I lived a very sad life with very little happiness, never been really loved, and that I’ll never find love because of how damaged I am beyond repair. Is there any way it could get any darker?? *
On the other hand, I’m suffering from bitter loneliness and don’t feel that there’s anyone I could to talk to about it. Unlike I always used to do, I can’t just call Diana anytime I’d like now. I just hold it, and try to keep my distance from her life to avoid ruining her engagement. What if I tell her how I truly feel? Wouldn’t that make her pity me and try to carve out some time for me? How selfish would I be to have her risk her engagement and future marriage to satisfy my egocentric needs!
I feel that being through all of this has broken me so badly and caused some serious damage to me that may never heal, or at least needs a very long time to heal. But I also feel that the damaging isn’t over yet. I sometimes feel this lack of love and acceptance is continuously making me angrier and crueler as a person; which in turn makes me want to have more and more space from people to keep them away from my demons; which in turn makes me lonelier and sadder and less loved, and the vicious circle goes on and on, with no apparent end to the suffering and the pain. So the answer seems to be: no … unless something happens and breaks the wicked loop.
I sometimes feel that my suffering is making me able to feel the pain of others and want so badly to mitigate their suffering. Since I moved to Ireland more than 6 months ago, I tried volunteering for at least 3 different causes: support for poor children, helping war refugees, and teaching children a tech skill. But I still feel that I have LOADS more to offer and help alleviate suffering and spread happiness, and that was the plan.
Until something happened that triggered an awaking of the cold darkness, and made me want to write all of this: another Gerda found me, but now she’s leaving me forever … again …