Nameless

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic
I want to share my story. You may learn something from me at least so you may not do the same mistakes I did. I hope no one has to go through what I have.

Submitted: November 12, 2016

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Submitted: November 12, 2016

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A tiny spark

At 2:27 AM, Sunday the 13th of November while I am watching random YouTube videos trying to lift my mood, I am hit with a sudden desire of writing all that happened to me. I have a thing for writing, I think I express better writing than talking. I inherited it from my father. He is partly gifted.


As you may have figured I am not happy at this point of my life. I am heartbroken. I am at the lowest point of my life. At my age a lot of the girls are extremely successful and achieving so much already. I on the the other hand, I had big plans throughout but achieved none yet. And I don't know how long I am away from  my dreams coming true but I know I am far away than the closest I had always assumed. Most of my classmates from school have already graduated or have settled down or are doing something or the other. I am stuck doing nothing. As I begin to write this I am at one of my very dear friend's house. Tahmina is an English teacher married to a wonderful man. She didn't really like him as much before her marriage to him as she does now. I am really happy for her. She has a blessed marriage. "She is a very lucky girl", may Almighty preserve it. 


I met her in school. Things were not smooth with her initially. In fact I made her feel terrible before befriending her. She will probably not forget how bad I made her feel at one point even though we are very close now. I cannot justify why I behaved so mean and terribly but I was very stupid to do it. I have been a stupid all my life. I made the wrong decisions throughout because I always followed my heart. I know I am not alone in doing so but these are the very reasons I am where I am today- feeling broken; feeling low. I spend most nights sleepless either overthinking or crying myself to sleep. It hurts me.

 

What is the "it"?

The gift of empathy has proven to be a curse in the name of a blessing to me. I have always been very compassionate towards others. I concentrate more on the good than bad and this is my greatest weakness. I have been disappointed mostly. Not always have I gotten it back what I gave. Not that my life is over. There is so much more to come but at this point of life I am already tired. Why can't people just be nice? I would not have treated anybody the way some have treated me. The other flaws to add to my misery are my stupid beliefs and my optimism. I tend to focus so much on the good that I am blind to the bad, as a result I suffer later. 

Some of my earliest memories I can recall is growing up in Jeddah, a city in Saudi Arabia. I was a very timid kid. I always felt neglected by my parents especially my dad. My mom was kind. It would be my wisest conclusion that I have inherited the best of my mother and father. I always felt that my dad disliked me. He would get angry at me for nothing and would try to physically hurt me. I don't know why he felt that way for me. It brings me to tears every time I think of those days. There was one night I was in the bathroom and my dad waited for me to get out. And once I did he just put me in front of him and pushed me until we reached the door. As we did he threw me out of the main door and closed the door behind me. I remained outside for a while standing, extremely hurt and crying in the cold only wearing a sleeveless shirt and shorts. I stood there. I could have run away since he didn't want me in the house. But where could I have gone? He didn't say a word all he did was took me to the door and put me outside closing the door behind me. I clearly wasn't welcomed. I don't know why God had to give me to someone who didn't want me. Why did it have to happen? My dad is a very nice man. He's kind of stubborn and has a temper. Despite that he is a good person. I just don't know why disliked me so much. I was only about 8 years old then. My mom heard my cry and she came to the door to get me inside at once. After that I caught fever and remember my dad feeding me medicine. 

Since then I always tried keeping myself away from my dad's sight. I always felt like he didn't want me. He was the first man to have hurt me. Every other man I looked at with affection and trust after that has hurt me, every time. 


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