Cry

Jon introduced me to this song one summer years ago. We used to share songs and musicians we liked. I don’t remember how this one came up but we both must have needed it. I remember it simply as the song he told me to play when I needed to cry.

There was a bombing tonight in the UK, after a concert. So far 20 young teens have been killed and many more are missing. I imagine what those parents must be feeling, those siblings, those friends. And it breaks my heart. I feel like I’ve grown up in an era where every few months or at least every year there is a major event like this where people gathered for a beautiful reason are terrorized, and no similar event thereafter ever feels peaceful again. …A concert, a movie, a church service, a class, work, the list goes on and on. No one is spared. Nothing feels safe. Nothing feels wholesome, pure, beautiful.

I just finished reading Harry Potter’s 6th book where Dumbledore dies. You read a story like that and you think this is just a book, an extremely well-written one, but a fictional story about fictional terror, nonetheless. There is no Lord Voldemort in real life, no Death Eaters, no kids losing their lives to fight Evil. Apparently I was mistaken.

Let it out. Only through acceptance of our feelings can we begin to heal…

“Song For You”
Alexi Murdoch

So today I wrote a song for you
Cause a day can get so long
And I know it’s hard to make it through
When you say there’s something wrong

So I’m trying to put it right
Cause I want to love you with my heart
All this trying has made me tired
And I don’t know even where to start

Maybe that’s a start

For you know it’s a simple game
That you play filling up your head with rain
And you know you’ve been hiding from your pain
In the way, in the way you say your name

And I see you
Hiding your face in your hands
Flying so you won’t land
You think no one understands
No one understands

So you hunch your shoulders and you shake your head
And your throat is aching but you swear
No one hurts you, nothing could be sad
Anyway you’re not here enough to care

And you’re so tired you don’t sleep at night
As your heart is trying to mend
You keep it quiet but you think you might
Disappear before the end

And it’s strange how you cannot find
Any strength to even try
To find a voice to speak your mind
When you do, all you wanna do is cry

Well maybe you should cry

And I see you hiding your face in your hands
Talking ’bout far-away lands
You think no one understands
Listen to my hands

And all of this life
Moves around you
For all that you claim
You’re standing still
You are moving too
You are moving too
You are moving too
I will move with you

Breaking the Seal…

I have no clue what to write about today. All I know is that I’ve been wanting to write for a long time now. Judging from my last post, you’ll notice that it’s been a long fucking while. Lately, I’d say maybe the last few months, I’ve really been feeling the urge to want to write and clear my head. Because the impetus is to “clear my head”, you can see why I haven’t written. When you’re counting on writing to help you clear the thoughts in your head, it’s hard to know where to begin, what “thought” you have to even write about. My mind feels foggy, I can’t see through it. So it’s easier to simply say “I don’t know where to start and don’t feel like dealing with it today. I’ll write tomorrow.” And tomorrow, the cycle continues.

I’ll just start sharing random shit and see where it lands.

It was fun to read a few of the old posts. I didn’t read all but wow, I realized a few things:

  1. There were so many things I never would have remembered! And some were pretty damn serious, like my grandma being sick and my dad urgently flying to visit her. I had totally forgotten this memory, and it happened just last year and felt so serious at the time. Update: she made it through that episode thank God. Sidenote: I recently had an epiphany about how memories work. I’ll explain it here quickly but it could easily warrant its own post… Memories are triggered! Stop for a second and consider that. We don’t remember them unless they’re triggered. WOW. If you don’t come across something to trigger them, then you’ll never know they happened. I realized computers work the same way. Maybe because they were designed by humans and thereby limited by how our brain works. [Or maybe we’re robots and limited by the computers that created us? Try to disprove that one. Have you seen the lines of code in our genetic makeup?!] Back to memories. Imagine this, your computer is full of AMAZING files (and some not so amazing ones but really meaningful ones nonetheless). You want to open some of them. Or forget that, you want to just know what fucking files you have in the first place. Imagine if the only way to know what you have is to remember every single file title and search for it. Well you have billions upon billions of files. How are you going to remember all the titles?! And there my friend lies the ultimate limitation of our memories. We won’t know something happened unless we know to search for it. Notice anything off there? Yes, it’s circular. Chicken and egg. Catch 22. Whatever you wanna call it. It’s fucked up. What inspired all this? I was out with N after a weekend of coming out to my cousins on a visit home. I was telling her that my family is judgmental and much of it is cultural (in some countries, people are constantly feeling watched and people love to gossip). This is why I was acting so stressed during our visit. She says I don’t see your mom as being too critical, did she ever ask you to straighten up? Stop slouching? I’m 33 years old and not once in my life did I realize that I grew up with a mom who used to tell me constantly to stop slouching! I had never recalled that memory. It had never been triggered as it had just gotten triggered now. I’d watched movies, shows, heard stories of little kids with moms constantly telling them to sit up straight but they hadn’t meant anything to me. For some reason, we got the file name right in this instance and pulled up the dossier from my past. And that’s when I wondered, what the fuck else is inside my brain, in my history, in my life, that I don’t know exists?!! Scary to think that there are good and bad experiences in there that I can’t “recall” until they’re triggered. PS. Mom, I love you.
  2. My writing isn’t half bad. I enjoyed reading the posts. I let myself go. It was nice to see that I let sides of myself come out that rarely surface.
  3. The format of most recent to oldest posts is hard to follow. This blog is better read chronologically.
  4. My latest post about my wedding and what I’m mourning… What can I say, I remember the tears through which I wrote it. I remember them like it was yesterday. The pain, the agony, the sadness. And all I can say/do is give my old self a big hug and say “Your wedding ended up being beautiful. I’m so happy for you.” It really was. It was magical. Every single person brought it. My dad did a reading, a beautiful poem that means the world to me, more than he’ll ever realize. Maybe someday I’ll tell you more about it. “Your kids are not your own.” My mom gave a speech to welcome guests and vowed that we will always have her unconditional love. That’s deep. A woman born in Egypt in a pre-dominantly muslim country, a rebel at heart, a mother above else. My older sister AND younger sister gave speeches. I expected to ask one of them for tradition’s sake, but both offered? That was unexpected. My brother officiated, and might I add, BEAUTIFULLY. Our little one was literally breathe-taking in a dress my mom had scoured the stores to find. My dad carried her down the aisle and she glowed. My brother-in-law got us a belly dancer. Our nephews did a dance for us on stage. My uncle, I repeat, my dad’s super conservative brother, flew in from Florida with his wife to support us, not just tolerate us but celebrate us. My mother-in-law was all smiles and helped us perform an ancient Indian tradition (I’m not Indian but my partner is). Her and my mom sat and sang songs together in Hindi (never did I know my mom knew these songs, apparently she was a Bollywood addict years ago; watching them sing together was beautiful). My cousin and his wife from a conservative village showed up with their kids (I invited them two weeks earlier over a text message, yes SMS, and they simply replied that they’d be happy to attend.) Friends flew in from around the country. I mean, the list literally goes ON and ON and ON….. I could mention every guest by name, one by one; they all deserve it. Because that’s how much everyone BROUGHT IT. Even my deceased grandma (on my mom’s side) showed up. I literally felt her presence with me right before I walked down the aisle, in that instant there was not a single doubt in my heart that she was there.  N looked gorgeous and holding her hand walking down the aisle is a feeling I hope to never forget. I gave an impromptu speech that summed up all our emotions well but we don’t have it recorded so it lives in all our memories and everyone was touched by it. The wedding was truly MAGICAL. And I feel so grateful. It was almost exactly one year to the day between when we got married (March 11) and when I wrote that post (March 6). A lot happened during that year leading up to the big day. A lot of really hard work, a lot of torn moments, a lot of soul-searching, a lot of heartache, a lot of difficult conversations, and it all culminated in a beautiful day that I will never forget. I thought you’d enjoy that happy update after that sad post… 🙂 THANK YOU LIFE, for being by our side.

I don’t have much else in me at the moment so I’ll leave it at this for my first post back. Other things that have happened over the past year that I could perhaps cover another time, or simply mention here so you’re on the same page:

  • We nearly lost our company (again). It was painful. This time, I came to terms with it and really accepted it was happening. It was going to be permanent, not temporary. I had to take anti-depressants, that’s how bad I was. To my surprise, they helped and I now understand why some people need them. Do I still think it’s sad that we sometimes need them? Yes. Do I still think they can fuck with your head? Yes. My brain physically hurt for days when I started them and when I stopped, so they are clearly powerful. Do I think there are times in life when your tank is running on empty and you can’t keep trying to fill it up one drop at a time? Yes. I’m glad I took care of myself. It was a rough time. We had to let go the team (again). I learned a lot during that time and I hope I can pick up from here in my next post so I can solidify the lessons. I’ll start the next one and leave it blank to push myself to do this.
  • My dad has cancer. You may be wondering why I didn’t start with this one. Why start by telling you we nearly lost our company? At first, I thought it meant I was so obsessed with our company that I was choosing to lead with it. But the second I made the decision between which one to lead with, I realized it was because I don’t want to admit this is happening. This is yet another example of me ignoring that my dad is sick. It’s fucking heart-breaking to think that my dad is sick. And now I’m crying. And I get it. This is why my head needs clearing… This is why I’ve been so unable to write. Ok. I get it now. I’m fucking hurting deep down and ignoring it. God I pray he’ll be okay.

Song playing now: Stay here with me. Don’t go.

Dad, please stay here with me. Don’t go.

xx