Ranting Malak

One of my me’s pays occassional visits, and she’s visiting right now, taking control. Hello, my inner impulsive teenager who never really explored anything beyond her comfort zone of Harry Potter movies and McDonald’s. I know you want to distract me. Always. I know you don’t want me to feel what I’m actually feeling. You’re making it work. The escape.

Four main elements make you. They define you. They add to you and affect you.

The body; the only way known to man, that allows you to be here, the thing you take for granted the most. The element you think will always be there, fully functioning, for as long as you want it to be. It’s the air of your existence.

The mind; the double-edged sword. The blessing and the curse. The essential and the dreadful. The one thing you fight and thank at once. It’s the drive that navigates you through each move and turn, only to be blamed. It’s the fire of your life.

The heart; the element that lives to die, that sacrifices its entirety missing all doubts. Break it and will give life, mend it and it will build homes. Its beats through its own demise. It’s the earth that underlines you.

The blood; it can prove your life as good as it can instantly end it, waking up all of your senses. Passion without it is just affection, and addiction without it is just love. You without it, are just a lost soul. It’s the water that fills you.

Thank you for reading what I have to write -and please forgive any typos-,

Falling in love for the first time -especially when you're 26- throws you so completely off balance that for a brief moment, you think there might actually be truth behind the concept of its awe-inspired magic making whatever. Then, of course reality hits and life happens and issues arise and insecurities hold the floor and commitment, the one unbeatable monster hiding behind all the morning texts and the sweet blinding honeymoon phase gestures, blows its fire allover your "too good to be true" illusions. I don't understand or believe the "forever" statement, but I do appreciate a good "right now" and a stable "near future". That's a much simpler view of relationships. Or so I thought...

No matter what I said or did or acted like. I was the girl. And what does the girl want? She wants dedication. She wants 24/7 care. She wants babies. She wants husbands. Yes. Multiple ones. She wants money.

What about space? What about careers? Friends? Emotional security? Alone time maybe? Dare I say, self exploration trips with herself? Some kind of arrangement other than marriage? Is this so profoundly unbelievable about "the girl"?

Let's explore the question for which the answer is so far fetched that it doesn't cross the mind of any random guy, which is, what if she's just "a girl" with her own set of needs, dreams, desires, and problems? What if she's, I don't know, different? What if she's not the exact same person as your ex, your mother, the actress playing the loyal wife, or your favorite porn star? What if she's just her, without all your expectations, perceptions, precautions, pretentious care? Does a man, in this day and age, have the mind, that is capable, of understanding that?

Thank you for reading what I have to write -and please forgive any typos-,

Sometimes it's quiet up there in my head. Sometimes I try to fill the void with shit I don't care about, therefore forgetting it the very next day. Sometimes I think I'm interested just to give myself more depth, but nope. Sometimes it's better to keep it quiet up there. Sometimes the silence scares the voices away. Sometimes the silence pushes me to be louder; to speak. Sometimes the empty space takes control. Sometimes the words escape. Sometimes.

Thank you for reading what I have to write -and please forgive any typos-,

I’m mid-anxiety attack. I’m thinking and deeply believing the whole world is collapsing around me. I’m praying for the impossible; praying to disappear. I’m trying to hide. I’m yelling at myself very agressively inside my own head. And I’m expected to pause, and breathe. I was advised by a therapist once to use the “inverted pyramid” breathing technique and to “imagine” that this pyramid is a slice of pizza, which sounds made up, but I tried it, and I laugh at the fact that I thought I could pull that off. You know, panic, take a deep breath and be okay. I can’t just breathe... And I feel even more anxious when I’m unable to breathe.

So, I’ve been mid-anxiety attack for as long as I can remember lol.

Thank you for reading what I have to write -and please forgive any typos-,

If you’re looking into over-reacting, naturally lighting everyone’s lives on fire for a few minutes, almost crashing your car or breaking a very valuable item in half, here’s how:

1) You need to find a time and a place. Preferrably completely inappropriate, in public and moderately crowded.

2) You need to start your day on a very positive note. Preferrably thinking and making the naiive decision that “today is going to be a good day”.

3) You need to have some kind of recent interaction with a close person, like a friend, a colleague, a family member, or ideally a partner, sharing your positivity with them and saying the exact words, “today is going to be a good day”.

4) You need to have handled a stressful task during this particular day in a calm and contained manner with a smile on your face and a sense of pride floating around you.

5) You need to rely on a complete stranger to take care of a virtual asset, and have him fail you.

6) You need to be enitrely unaware of your emotions that day. You need to be in denial.

7) You need to be heading somewhere fun, and get stuck in traffic due to your own fault.

The simplest action following the above 7 steps will surely result in you having a total mental breakdown, leaving you absolutely stunned by the amount of anger you were holding up and pittying yourself for walking into the deciving trap that is “thinking that today is going to be a good day, actually makes it a good day”. Therefore, the decision will shift to you never saying those words ever again!

Please try to try this at home. Good luck!

Thank you for reading what I have to write -and please forgive any typos-,

I have found comfort and solace in using little figures to convey what I have to say to others.

Who needs words when you’ve got this tiny cute chick to replace your “please”, and a sitting down monkey to replace your “sorry”?

I realize the irony in me using words as a form of self-expression yet still finding them fail me and that right now, I wish I were writing this blog in emoji.

I have so much to say all the time. A lot of things happen on a typical day of mine. A lot of human encounters, mishaps, fights, long conversations and many thoughts rush all over my mind.

I could appear quiet at various occasions but that’s just because my head is very loud; the louder my head, the tighter my mouth is closed shut and the heavier my tongue is.

Racing thoughts. Exhaustion. Decisions. Ugh. And I’m expected to use words to express all of that!

I love words even though they pressure me and add to my exhaustion.

I’m thankful for words, but they want me to say everything in a very specific way. I hate that!

Emojis allow me the capacity to explore my thought as it leaves my head. They allow me to have my own voice transported virtually to others. Words don’t do that.

I don’t do that.

Thank you for reading what I have to write -and please forgive any typos-,

Have you ever experienced a moment of total mind block?

Like when your mind is completely paralyzed and you think that your thoughts and comprehension skills are its arms and legs.

There’s a scientific term or theory or whatever about this called Fight, Flight, or Freeze.

I always believed I either fought or flew, but now I know the agony of freezing, standing there, unable to function like an adult, thinking “Has my own indecision just turn me into a chair? - Where’s my brain?! - Brain, work please. I need you.”

Nothing.

It’s paralyzed.

Here’s how my brain works. You present it with a problem. It hears it out, understands it, processes it, and then lays out all possible solutions for it...

And that’s it. No decision made. Zero. So I’m constantly left with so many possible scenarios resulting in possible outcomes that are immediately translated into possible pros/cons lists, but absolutely no certainty. In my head, everything “can” be done, and some things “should” be done, but nothing “will”.

Why?

Because, I think everything is a maze, and it has more exits than I am even aware of. Each path leads to one of those exists and each one holds its potential/story/heartbreak/success/meals/failures/phonecalls/life. And choices paralyze me, because they force me to be “okay” with things, to accept them, to believe they’re better than what could have been, and I don’t know how to be that.

I only know how to regret.

I only know how to add more exits to my maze.

Thank you for reading what I have to write -and please forgive any typos-,

There have been several attempts at trying to gather all my thoughts into one portal that would document my many hours of confusing loops ending with me oversleeping, running late for my morning meeting and getting a well-deserved mental self-beating.

This is not my first anything.

Perfection experiments have been occupying a good 40% of my extremely tight capacity to think, focus or function. Everytime, I trick myself into telling myself that this time is different and I end up believing myself, then feeling shocked that I again have failed myself.

Failing myself. My least favorite thing to do, yet my most frequent and successful achievement. I’m doing it right now, failing myself as I write this particular sentence, expecting how I will most definitely delete this piece and pretend like this blog never existed.

I will now start contemplating whether or not I am worth anyone’s time, yes, followed by the wondering of whether or not there will be any pieces coming after this one, and then wondering if I have anything to say.

Why do I need to have something to say? What is even the point of having an opinion and wow-ing everyone around me with it? And if I don’t understand it, then why is it such an important goal of mine?

Guilt. Hello. Missed you since my last piece of chocolate, 15 minutes ago. Time to guilt myself into making it up for myself and urging myself to keep writing, keep pushing, keep fighting my fears. But my fears protect me, they stop me from being vulnerable, from letting in even more voices that are taking over my control panel. I hear you, sarcastic Malak! Stop making fun of my naive metaphors!

Critical Malak won’t let me be proud of this moment that encouraging Malak thinks is incredible. But nonchalant Malak doesn’t give a shit what everyone thinks because she does what she feels like and really just lacks the energy to care!

I’m annoyed. Honestly.

Maybe this should be my last blog. Let me know.

Thank you for reading what I have to write -and please forgive any typos-,