Letters I should've burnt -The process | Teen Ink

Letters I should've burnt -The process

July 30, 2018
By Mira Nehlawi GOLD, Damascus, Other
Mira Nehlawi GOLD, Damascus, Other
13 articles 0 photos 3 comments

Favorite Quote:
"We don't live to die we have purpose and meaning, find your purpose."
"Imagination should be used not to escape reality but to create it."

Let's see
It's 2:14am and am sitting on someone's staircase writing this down while eating ice cream. Sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night never felt easier.
I couldn't stand spending this day alone at all so i thought coming to where it all started might help, a lot. And it is helping actually i don't know if it's the fact that am a few meters away from your room or just because am out in the middle of a cold February night. Did you know your hood attracts a big number of drunk guys? I wonder how i'll get home.. hopefully without losing an organ. Don't know if i'll wake up alive for the following reasons a- if my parents found out am not sleeping peacefully in my bed right now consider me a dead soul. b- the fact that am eating vanilla ice cream while it's freezing cold outside puts my life on a certain line 'your stairs are so freaking cold what are they made of? Ice cubes?'.
C- if one of those drunk guys thought am a walking doll and he felt like playing, yeah guess it's the most outstanding reason.

Anyhow it's 2:20am and i miss you.
I really don't miss being in a relationship or getting some affection from someone, i just miss you, as a person on this planet earth.
I don't miss the feelings and i wouldn't want to catch them again but i would want to catch up with you.. more likely at this certain moment.. i would like it if you opened up the door and came to join me staring at the not so visible stars, share the ice cream and wonder in silence about this whole messed up life.. without uttering a single word or sound, just us on this ice cubes in silence.

it's not that i didn't write much those past months, i tried to and i kinda did but lately writing makes me anxious, am not free anymore inside this powerful world of words.. i write something and a storm of 'what ifs' hit me. What if that person thought am talking about him? What if he found it insulting? What if he thought am silly and overreacting and dramatic? What if he liked me less? What if, what if, what if...
and those past months was not the easiest for me at all. It was a months of hurt, confusion, exhaustion, numbness...
the earth opened up and at times i didn't know if it was better to fight to stay or free fall in. But i Stayed.
And i realized that it's okay to be scared, i was terrified in fact. But sometimes we aren't given a choice and we have to lean into the fear, the heartache, the uncomfortable parts. maybe because there wasn't any interaction with you literally. Maybe because the tests came out and the treatment is hard. Maybe because.. i was doing my best to be content with myself only, cause really.. no one's for use and no one would care more than 4 minutes 'saying so after giving it a shot several times'.
There were days where i spent 17 hours of the day barely breathing, i actually chocked once, threw up several times due to the unbearable irritation, stress, damaging thoughts. Comparing myself to how i was 5 months ago looks like i got ahead real good, wanna know how it was 5 months? It was a weird form of hell... okay here's something i wrote from that time but i was too scared and indulged in the what ifs to post it: "shouldn't it be easier? Is it supposed to be this way? I wake up in the morning and my thoughts spiral out of control, circling around an image of you until i can no longer avoid diving right into it, wondering if we're still the same. If we left off on good note. If i said the right words. And i'm not sure if this is how it is supposed to work; me going to bed thinking i wasn't enough and me waking up alone in the morning knowing i'm too much. Shouldn't it be light? Shouldn't it feel like a weight lifting off your chest? Because i feel heavier somehow, as though an invisible force pressed my body into the ground and i can sense the ceiling closing over my head, falling down, down, down. When all i want to do is watch you go and know with all my heart that you'll return.
But I don't. And i wish i was still at a point when i thought it would be easy once i'd taken the fall. When i still thought i'd fly, not crash to the ground. And i wish you'd reassure me just once. I wish you told me you felt the same way because am scared this feeling of not knowing, of never being sure, will never go away."

You might think i'm just putting off words to come out with an exclusive, interesting letter or just to catch your attention. But, but, but sadly every single letter being written right now is real.
You know this feeling of pure relaxation after 4 hours of constant crying, throwing up and now your stomach is aching and hurt? Add to it the whole 17 hours of headache and insanely thoughts. Am aware that am repeating my words above but it's something am sick of going through, something i've been suffering. On those same days the only two solutions that circled my mind to end this trauma where either calling you or taking the Ativan pills, the one where i call a close friend and let him in was dismissed long time ago when the only words that friend said "go wash your face and clean the mess you did you can talk to me about what's bothering you" and when i did not reply because i was crying to the point where oxygen was blocked, he just went to continue his life normally didn't even wait further than 58 seconds.

And it was a battle not to call you and not to go with the Ativan option although that friend supported the second option but it was clear he wasn't one to take an advise from, even my out of mind self knew better.. still the battle was there. And i couldn't be prouder for not giving up to any of the two poisonous options.
In the end of it all i came to the realization that i suffer something serious, that i actually go through what they call panic attacks, i wake up at 3:24 am out of breath and so damn afraid, shaking, sweating, throwing up, uncontrollable vague thoughts, not feeling safe at all and not understanding how i can shut this down and get it to my brain that i am okay, i will be okay no one's going to hurt me nothing bad is going to happen am at a safe place. But i just can't, my mind won't comprehend the words and it just won't shut. I black out. One night i was going through such a thing, it was 3:00 am meaning i only slept for an hour. I wasn't afraid i was freaking terrified after a very bad dream consisting on flashbacks and bad people that crossed my life. I didn't know what's that thing am feeling i just knew that i don't feel safe and am just bundled on bed in a very messy state so i.. texted a friend i tried to put in words what am feeling as much as i could although it was difficult to, let alone with shaky hands. And his answer was "grab a vodka from your friend you'll feel relaxed and go back to sleep" didn't put the effort to ask why am feeling that way and when i wasn't responding like i should he said "you should see a doctor... it's called panic attacks and you're getting a lot of them, you need serious help..."
I did my best to learn how to deal with these "panic attacks" on my own, it's not working till now but.. am trying. I don't want to go through medicines or alcohol and obviously people are not medicine, no one's for use i guess, no one can speak the words on your lips... or maybe someone can but just doesn't want to. People are not medicine, yes some are way too special and maybe gifted that they lift you out of your trauma you almost don't get to feel it but in the end you should learn how to deal with it on your own. You can ask for help but only after trying all the methods of fixing it on your own. By yourself.
Describing it now, it doesn't sound as worse as it was but i actually don't know how to put it more in words to make you feel that it was the worst heaven i've been through.
So here i am again.. writing. Sitting on your staircase, part of why i stopped writing cause... i thought we've had enough of you knowing what's going through my head, i should learn how to keep it to myself.
I did learn a few things out of it all: control what you can, release what you can't. Keep your heart big and open for yourself only. And when things get so bad... find yourself an ice cubed staircase and write.

3 minutes passed of absent-mindedness. Am out of words for now.

Hope i can make it home safe and sound. You too.. stay safe.


Last night i knew what to say but you weren't there to hear it

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