Tag Archives: writing

Letter for Depression

Dear Depression, I want to take this opportunity and thank you for being generous enough and giving me back my ability to write. I am aware that you understand that writing equates oxygen for me. I hope my words would convey my senses, I neither solicit mercy nor sympathy; my words are nothing but a reflection of the circus inside.

I like to picture you with awe, I don’t imagine you as a monster or a “black dog” as they describe you. On the contrary, I picture you as a beautiful entity that is overwhelmed with senses. I know your seasonal visit has no cruel intentions, I am aware that you carry nothing but scars of a conspicuous past. I am thankful that you are eager to remind me of my scars to learn and thrive.

However, while I always welcomed your visits through the darkest times and let you in with open arms – I just can not understand why would you visit me in the most beautiful period of my life?! For several years, I have adopted masks, masks that would protect me and walls that would secure my fragile being, only recently I have learned to stand with nothing but an armor of flesh.

I thought that my soul was murdered long ago, nevertheless, there was always an ounce of hope lingering between ashes and tears. One night, the light turned out to be real, HOPE was not a phantasm but a reality that worth every ache. I am no longer tinctured with the past or the present. 

And for that, I ask you why?

Why do you haunt me with equivocality?

Why do you hew my soul?

Why do you urge me to escape life? I respect and appreciate death but I refuse to bring it uninvited.

Why do you distort my self-image?

Why do you refuse to let me be?

I am not asking you to leave but I am asking you to intertwine with my reality and breathe in colors which portray who I really am. Your darkness is beautiful so, please join me.

Depression, here I am evincing my misfortunes and not blaming you, on the contrary, I kindly ask you to understand. For my life is not mine anymore and I refuse to abandon felicity out of fear. I refuse to hurt the one I Love, I refuse to give up and I refuse to be nothing but the strong person I am.

I am not a victim nor a quitter and I will not fight with you because you are part of me. My soul is made of melodies and silver linings – all the rest is noise.

Dear Depression, please be kind.

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Art by Domen Lo

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What if?

Life is beautiful in every way. Only when we get to experience pain – we taste the euphoria of the few blissful moments. I have been a believer that everything is connected for a long time, however, getting to experience that firsthand in overwhelming – Gigantic.

Sometimes I wonder how do I still manage to value life. After all, I used to struggle with the idea of taking my life since I was a child… this life to be precise – and dive into a new world of possibilities, discoveries, and answers.  I always ask myself where does this strength come from?! Lately, I discovered it is faith. Not faith in an entity, religion or a human being. It is much bigger than this, I am not sure my human vocabulary can describe this but for now, I would say the universe.

I learned that our demons accompany us, you can never really defeat them but you can accept them, give into your past and let go. Accept what happened and what will happen in this journey called – life. Afterall, demons are nothing but voices from the past that once called for help, scared of the unknown, scared from every new page, scared that the new skin would be hewed over and over again.

I discovered that pain is not hard as joy when you survive in a world of distortion, it is very hard almost impossible to accept a new chapter of happiness, simplicity, and bliss. Be wary of fooling yourself, be wary of being too locked in pain that you miss the taste of happiness. Accept that life is a series of evolutions and only a few manage to pass every stage and fell their existence with peacefulness and serenity.

Sometimes fighting your demons takes nothing but holding your demons close and as you tear-up, you hear yourself whispering “I know”. The beauty of life is not only bliss, the beauty of life is everything. The colors of joy, the melodies of pain and sensations of fear. They all intertwine to create a bigger, fresh meaning.

If you are lost, pained or paralyzed, remember that life is BEAUTIFUL. It just takes some time to unfold your eyes and witness the beauty.

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Artwork by Catrin Welz-Stein


WHO AM I?

What is the purpose of our existence if we can’t be true to ourselves?! Are we created to be made – or just to be?

The answers have always been simple, it’s the quest that determines our strength and persistence. It takes courage to remain loyal to yourself and avoid man-made distortions. Living in the Middle-east is uneasy and being a female who happened to be different makes it worse. Choosing to be true to yourself is SUICIDAL.

Over time everything changes. You get to learn that traditions are volatile. Self-discovery is essential, challenging society and questioning dogma are the noblest acts. Nevertheless, it is not an easy journey. The cattle will stand out to you, vilify and attack you. They will delude you to believe that there is no choice and that we are merely owned.  The path to enlightenment is loaded with thorns, but what is bliss if not for the struggle.

We rant and whine “Life is cruel” but life has disowned us long ago. Life is not to blame, it’s what we made out of life.

They established laws to mold societies and shape future. It is your choice, will you lose yourself to conformity or seize your liberty?

Limits are an illusion, our strength is infinite and freedom lies in resistance.

Don’t respect the status quo.

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Artwork by unknown artist.


On the Borders of my Mind.

It is ironic how a slight attack could change everything. It’s uneasy to explain or make feelings coherent. After all, borderline personality disorder comes with bits and pieces from everything else. Sometimes anxiety, unexplained fears, and the worst of all DEPRESSION. BPD comes with its baggage, as if, we, humans need more burdens! The world is hard itself, surviving is an act of courage in the 21st century, what’s the point behind having unseen monster that carves out holes on our fragile existence. And no matter how much you fight, monitor those thoughts and plead….. Nothing leaves.

I remember few years ago when I took a challenging decision to quit medications, I knew its going to be uneasy ride in my emotional circus. But, today I would do it all over again, I would take the very same decisions. Because it helped me, when I browse online forums and read what people are saying about their experiences, I wonder if that could be me OR I am just another spectrum. I read words that I am completely unfamiliar with “Co-dependence, manipulation, emotional abuse” and I wonder if I have ever been like that, I wonder if my father’s death shaped the different case of borderline I came across. I isolated myself from the world and wrapped myself in darkness to be safe, I managed to learn dealing with my volatile mood. I confess I mastered manipulation, a skill I learned as a reaction to those who truly deserve it, however, at some point in my life I was done. I despised seeing myself getting dragged in the path branded by manipulation, that wasn’t me. I had to escape.

I learned to put myself in everyone’s shoes regardless, to forgive and accept an apology I will NEVER get. After all, I didn’t want to see a corrupted image of myself and use BPD as my ultimate scapegoat.

Now, I look back and process how did the past 5 years pass in an eye blink, where I am today and the price I paid…. A very expensive price and I am not sure if anything in the world is worth losing human being in the process.

I look back knowing that I am 200% stronger, capable of handling my past and controlling my demons… I know that every episode will eventually pass, every heartache will go, and while soul-ache remains; I am certain that life is bittersweet.

I wish I can simply explain everything to the people who care, but I can’t or won’t. I have to fight this battle alone, I am not used to have someone under my skin, I won’t put my guards down, or share my darkest moments. I remember a friend said that I tend to use grand wording, because my feelings are quite huge. He didn’t know that he defined me, I am larger than life.

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Unknown artist


Melodies of myself…

– I still remember that day when words remained unsaid, when soul-aches pushed me apart like tornado, when my life changed and the roller-coaster ceased to define me. But I am fine… I can still swing in my personal opera, paint smiles out of sea waves, dance naked under the cold rain and breathe in silver moonlights.

Thoughts are like snakes tangling everything I am.  Reality is intertwined with fantasy. I can no longer recognize myself or my dreams or what I am longing for…. I am lifeless, numb and ruined. Feelings are so huge that I am unable to create a coherent statement or explain how I feel.  I wonder if tomorrow I can just vanish, disappear in existence like a forgotten feather that once witnessed remarkable moments and history through its flying journey.

But I am alive… I am alive even if surviving murders every ounce of my existence, I am alive even if memories are collection of razor blades torn my emotions, bleed and dance in my chaotic mind… my mind … my bitter sweet circus.

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Silhouette Dreams

Once upon a time in a silhouette reams

There was a girl dressed in fears

With eyes of a tiger

And heart of a fighter

She deceived the monsters disguised with dreams

Once upon a time in a silhouette cart

There was a girl with glass-shaped heart

With chocolate skin from silk

And piercing gaze paints kink

She escaped from monsters with angel parts

Once upon a time they thought they knew

The innocence inside colored.. yet hewed

She didn’t cease to rectify

What’s more than meet the eye

For her silhouette dreams

Rescued her from lies…..

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Made in Egypt

I wanted to call my piece “born in Egypt” but I found “made in Egypt” more appropriate, eventually in this country we are more of “made” NOT “born”; born suggests living with free will and free will is the mother of sins where I come from.

Usually I end every year with positive thoughts and bright new year resolution, but who am I fooling, we all survive here with a manual of terms and conditions…. and once you decide to oppose the herd, you become a misfit like me.

Let me introduce the external shell, on a professional level I am doing pretty well and thankfully, my lifetime war with family and society ended up with victory. But the price of where I am and who I am was/remains unbearable, for I decided to be my true self and speak out loud in a country that despises freedom, let alone a woman who speaks of freedom.

I am angry.

I am full of rage, I can no longer handle the way this society perceives me. I am tired of explaining and expressing that I might be human after all. I am severely sick from hearing “Rana, regardless of your eccentricity and odd thoughts, you are good – genuine -trustworthy and supportive.” these statements don’t make me feel proud, it suffocates me, it’s like a razor blade piercing each and every ounce of hope that I create from shattered pieces to hold on, survive…. Breathe.

I am dissapointed

Once upon a time there was a revolution, we all had hope, we live in an utopic delusion – we sensed euphoria and we failed to understand that it’s just momentarily.

Our hopes and dreams faded because of everything we failed to understand. Not only an oppressive rooted regime – but our corrupt morals, fragile ethics and HYPOCRISY.

How did we manage to fool ourselves? Change? Freedom? Are you kidding me? How could we expect change when we barley face ourselves with our misfortunes. When we breath hypocrisy, when we betray everyone even ourselves on daily bases?

How could you speak of freedom when you still believe that atheists, agnostics etc. should be sentenced to death? What part of the word “freedom” allows you to harass me just because I am different, how could you speak of human rights when you insult, hurt, mislead dozens of people for nothing other than personal reason rooted in your distort mind.

How am I writing all of this while I hurt many people along the way due to the circus in my mind and the traumas I can’t defeat yet. I might have not hurt anyone “intentionally” but I did by every mean during the war with myself. I am as corrupt…

I am numb

I have lost touch with my feelings, 2015 is such an enlightenment. I got to see the raw ugly image of my society, my people… I wonder why am I surprised? Am I that naive?

However, being numb is pretty useful my friends. I don’t get shocked from daily sexual and verbal harassment anymore, I just live with it – After all, I am an Egyptian pierced and tattooed, I am definitely asking for it, if I was a foreigner then I wouldn’t be asking for this but being Egyptian and different equates and invitation for everyone to occupy my body or at least pierce my brain… What’s the big deal anyway?

Someone told me few days ago that I “escape” from my emotions and I runaway from feelings… Seriously! Why is it hard to absorb my numbness… Live with it, I am not there….

If you live in a country where people resist Police and military abuse and torture but they don’t have the guts to speak of domestic violence and child abuse. What change are you expecting?

If you live in a country where many people would fight sexual harassment but wouldn’t dare to open topics like incest and parental abuse. How can we forge change?

If we live in a country where people still consider parenthood as a sacred institution and domestic violence is god given right, how the fuck will we change anything?

If we are living in a country where men are granted to fool around and cheat while women would be tortured to death in the name of honor. Will we ever witness critical change?

Bottom line

“There can’t be large scale revolution until there’s a revolution on an individual level”

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