We spend so much time trying to be happy. Humans. We do, we really do. Yes, we ALL have those funks that we stay in for a while; but in reality cynicism is exhausting. Being bitter, harsh, sad, angry, and cynical will eat you alive more than the actual debilitating pain that causes you to feel and be this way.
At some point we will either cope through goodness, great people, friendships, maturity, or religion. Sometimes all of them. Sometimes one of them. Whatever works for you. Then, once there, we will strive SO HARD to be that “Better me.” Some of it will burn us out. Some of it will push us forward “todo pa’lante” and thrive. Some of us will become obsessed with this help, whatever it is pushing us forward, uplifting us; helping us in our sorrow. Many of us will fall somewhere in the middle with rises and dips in there.
I’m stuck currently in HUMAN. Human who happens to be woman, mom, Muslim, my past and all I’ve been through. Some days I’m a striving-to-improve Muslimah above everything else. Some days I barely get by, and a Hug from my child is all I can bare. Some days, some days even that is harder than I can take, harder than I can bare. Some days your legs over the side of the bed is the BIGGEST accomplishment you can envision yourself to take.
I’ve been very pensive lately. Life sure is a roller coaster ride. I reflect on the amazing qualities of the brain, at it’s amazing features all it can learn, take, how amazingly resilient and how terribly fragile it is. I think of depression, schizophrenia, Autism, Retts syndrome, Cancer, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and all the people whose minds and souls have been ravaged by life and who pretend to be ‘normal’ and get by.
Life is all over the place, like my thoughts.
I think of all the imperfect mistakes that shaped us. The experiences we never should have had which taught us. The dumb a** mistakes we make that can forever change our youth, you, our marriages, or our lives. We all have them. Some of us, wiser than others; have fewer mistakes or life learning errors. Some of us have many life experiences and learn the hard way.
Some of us have lost a pet, or a friend, some of us lost a family member– some of us have lost all of them, and a child or a parent. Some of us have lost all that and more, in a Hard way. Some of us have seen murder, cancer, war, psychosis, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, we’ve experienced a child fall asleep in our arms only to never wake up, a child dying in a fire, a sister murdered, a brother who couldn’t take it and ended it….some of us, some of us would have went through the feelings of that last one and somehow made it through. AlHamdulilah, AlHamdulilah through it all.
Reflecting on some things of my own, some things I’ve lived through, witnessed of my friends or of my family.
How hard can it be to be looked up to and admit you want to give up or mess up, or try something bad? I’m wondering how would someone admit that to another? How do you seek help before falling into that? Whatever that may be…
How does a family survive loosing their Captain? How does a mother cope with empty arms? How does a sister get through not being able to pick up the phone and call her sibling? How does a sinner return to their faith, their rope? How does a mother, hugging her child who is having a seizure stay in the moment with the heavy weight on her shoulders of just finding out she herself has a rare form of cancer out of nowhere and is already in a stage 2? How does a wife regain her husband’s love? How does a drug addict get over the urge to just slip one more time? How do we cope in this amazing, awful, happy, depressing, horrible, fun, disgusting, sick, hopeful world?
These are all rhetorical questions. I don’t really want answers. I’m just using my blog as a diary of sorts so to speak. I know how I cope, most days anyhow. AlHamdulilah for Islam, the internet and some confidants, companions, my musings and the internet. That’s mine, my safety net, my “happy pill” so to speak. Sometimes. Sometimes it’s just another thing that I “fail at”. Sometimes. Sometimes I’m just a shell. and sometimes that’s okay.
Shout out to all my shells. To my struggling to get by people. Shout out to the grieving, to the recovering, shout out to the muslims striving, Shout out to the hurt, the attacked, the defeated and then to those who have slacked and slipped up and relapsed. The ONLY way to go from the bottom is up. Rejoice, rejoice that you can be an example of starting over. No matter what it is. How hard it may be, how utterly life shattering it is or was you CAN be you. Be you in this awesome life. Be you. Relish those things that made you who you are and keep on keepin on.