Scars in the mind and heart - Mental Pain

          "You stay quiet while a war happens within you."

Opening Emotions
Painting by  Martin Musox

I hold your heart with my iron fingers and grasp it until blood explodes and trickles down your body, burning your skin as if it's acid.

I light a fire, watching as the flames engulf your heart until all that is left is ashes.

I hammer into your brain multiple thin nails and build a bloodcurdling pain that sounds throughout your body and echoes back from your skin.

I cause you anxiety and stress which leads to you feverishly biting your nails off until you are met with the stump of your finger tip.

 I am your mental pain.

 Why is it so easy to say my leg hurts and so hard to say my heart aches although arguably mental pain hurts much more than physical pain?

“Highly sensitive people are too often perceived as weaklings or damaged goods. To feel intensely is not a symptom of weakness, it is the trademark of the truly alive and compassionate. It is not the empath who is broken, it is society that has become dysfunctional and emotionally disabled. There is no shame in expressing your authentic feelings. Those who are at times described as being a 'hot mess' or having 'too many issues' are the very fabric of what keeps the dream alive for a more caring, humane world. Never be ashamed to let your tears shine a light in this world.” 

― Anthon St. Maarten

I joined an expressive writing group where we discussed this topic and many things like this. 

Check the center out here: Inside Out Center

Overthinking and Fear

 You know what to do, you're just scared to do it. 

This back and forth is just fear.

- Grey's anatomy. 

 While watching Grey's anatomy, I related a lot to this quote. Although it was aimed at a cancer patient who has WAY more life-threatening problems in the show than I do, it still hit a chord. Coincidentally, this is something my mom just told me a few weeks ago while I was stressing over what I'll major in in university and where to apply to and complaining over the stress of upcoming exams. Tiny hiccups that just happened to be taking a toll on my mental health because I tend to greatly overthink. However, my mom set me straight (god bless her) and made me realize I know exactly what I want to do.

I know that I want to write until my fingers hurt. I know that I want to start expanding on my reading selection and start reading books I usually wouldn't give a second glance. I know that I want to become more educated on matters like my religion and politics. I know that I'm passionate about psychology and developing my knowledge of human behavior. I know that if majoring in psychology doesn't work out Ill just switch to something else that also interests me, possibly multimedia journalism. Or better yet, double major. I know exactly what I want to do. I know that there are many many routes I can take in my life and that life is full of opportunities. I should be filled with gratitude that I am able to lead my life and career to wherever I want it to go. 

I'm lucky that I have this freedom however it gives off a strong bittersweet vibe. This freedom is like floating in the middle of a vast ocean without any idea where my destination is.Too many choices make me anxious because I'm absolutely terrified of making the wrong one.

Fear of the future and failure is what's keeping me back. I need to have hope and faith in myself. I am capable of doing anything.

I know I won't disappoint myself. 

White

I used to live in Saudi Arabia and when I moved to Egypt, there seemed to be a recurring color (or debatably an absence of color) attached to all my mixed emotions throughout that stage of my life: White.
     

WHITE

White walls stared blatantly back at me. Empty, bland, white walls. All the pictures previously hanged, removed. All the memories ripped off. All that's left was vacant shelves above shelves that in bygone days were stacked with books. You wouldn't believe that this had been someones home, someones sanctuary for the past 12 years.

All I could see was white. The white marbled floor that used to reside on it my favorite couch. The white airplane as I stepped onto it. The white clouds hovering below me, building a thick barrier between me and my old life.

As I step off the airplane and into a new start, I pray that this white canvas, this new white page, be filled up with memories and become again, a colorful gleam of hope.

Entity

The body is my protection. 

This layer of skin is a border. 

I'm you, but the purer version of you,

The one who hasn't been affected directly by the misery that seeps out of Earth. The one who injects into you that pint of hope when you get punched too many times by life's stone fist. You might wonder what exactly am I. Well, I'm everything you're not. I'm residing in you, flowing through your blood. Sometimes you hear me, when you think someone has called out your name but you feverishly look around and don't find anyone. Sometimes you feel me when you have that etching suspicion that there is a presence near you. 

I'm pure,

But unfortunately I die and get resurrected again and again.

Those down moments in your life? That's when I've left you. When you are entirely free of my presence.

However, I will finally die when you die.

When you take your last breathe, it will also be mine.