Now that I’m FINALLY back home…

I landed wrong on my ankle today AGAIN…. but…. I walked/ran full tilt home cuz I have to write this down without 1000 MUFY-ians screaming in my ears after a fully wasted day.

I was gonna buy a pizza and take a second cheat day to celebrate, but I got the carb-filling in the free lunch at college anyway. Cuz like WHAT WHAT WHAT I AM SO DAMN EXCITED *throws confetti* Some people are silently judging me because I didn’t react appropriately, but I don’t have to show everyone everything I’m thinking do I? Nope, I do not. I’m perfectly comfortable celebrating in the comfort of my room with prayers of gratitude and unhealthy food. YIP! Well-applied effort will ALWAYS Insha Allah be rewarded with well-deserved good news. ^______^

They call it family.

All those movies and songs about family, like oh so sweet. Bull shit. All of it. Bull shit. It’s always family that stands between me and my happiness. Always.

Even when I’m happiest… they’ll always be the ones to bring me down. Always. And I wish WISH it were different but it never is. Never. One phone call from them when I’m happy, and it’s enough to bring back that cloud of depression that comes from being disrespected as a person OVER and OVER. OVER AND OVER LIKE A FUCKING SLEDGEHAMMER.  And I can’t tell anyone, because well, LO AND BEHOLD, THEY’RE FUCKING FAMILY. Family that I’ve never loved and been comfortable using as a piggy bank. I can’t help what I feel, and now I know this for sure. Unless I’m at my lowest- depressed, lonely and directionless- I’ll never find comfort there, and even then it’s more of a pit stop. Those are the moments I don’t feel so apart from them.

But no, when I’m happy or doing well, and pushing myself higher, it’s just how it’s always been- me on the outside looking in, because I don’t mesh with them. I don’t. I don’t even want to. They call it family- I call it the inconvenience of blood. Almost 20 years on this Earth, and it’s never been different from this.

I’m sick of this. I need to let it out, and let it be heard before I forget it tomorrow. I will NOT let them bring me down again. I’m not going down this time because of them. I refuse to let them have sway over me again, because it’s always going to be their loss- because I don’t love them and when I don’t love something, I can go without it. Maybe not without the cash flow, but the rest of it, sure. And I don’t give a damn about how heartless I sound. I’ll do anything to protect my mind from depression. I don’t WANT to feel how I’m feeling right now. I’m not going to let it in again.

Sometimes when I read my old conversations… it sickens me a bit to see how determined I was to be sad. I may be like that again, too. But it still sickens. I hope and pray that the mindset I have now… it doesn’t change.


I’ve rarely felt this much shame in myself. Taking a look at MyFitnessPal and my stats from 2014… what did I do to myself? How the hell did I let myself get this bad? How did I have to audacity to blame anything for anything when I was doing this to my own body?

This is… unacceptable. Unacceptable that I let myself down like that. Not gonna happen again. NOT GOING TO HAPPEN. I don’t have a lot of control over a lot of things, but DAMMIT I’m going to have control over what goes into my system and keep my system well run. I AM NOT FALLING BACK. It’s not happening. InshaAllah. It’s never gonna happen again.

I felt so satisfied today, taking walking over 3 km and not even feeling the burn. Simply means I’m ready to push myself farther. What’s funny is, there are two people excluding family who say I’m pushing myself “too much”. Hahah… have I ever? I don’t recall the last time I had to push myself for anything. Maybe back in the 2015 Science Fair? That was almost two friggin’ years ago. Yeah, two years. Who knew? I haven’t pushed myself into anything since. Studies never require me to ‘push’ myself. I am long overdue to push myself and DO something.

It’s a shame to tell myself that wanting to be healthy, wanting to reach a healthy weight and feel GOOD about myself isn’t an ambitious enough challenge. Yes, I admit. I do feel inadequate sometimes in the face of all these… professionally ambitious minded people around me. But in the end, will becoming a corporate magnate make me happy? I sincerely doubt it. What brings me joy is helping people reach their dreams. Making others better. It brings me joy. I may never be so “great” as to be a CEO or something or other. But I’d most certainly like to do something that’ll allow me to help others more and more to fulfill all those things they could be doing, but aren’t.

I haven’t felt this good and happy in months. I’ve caught myself skipping, jumping down the stairs like 12-year-old me and humming jingles and rhymes, finger-drumming. Haha. Yes, I still get moments of… confusion and depression. But those are when I’m at my lowest, and idle. So why should I stay idle?

I figure my brother may have changed my whole life’s course when he scared me into not taking Econs in class 9 and told me I’m a dumbass at Accounting when I failed that Half Yearly exam in class 8 and shifted to the Science stream. It was a good thing, though. I’m a well-rounded student. Studied almost everything under the sun… except Chemistry. Ech. Anywho. I would’ve been a business student. I… probably would’ve been a completely different person. I wouldn’t have done Islamiyat because I would’ve had all 7 subs in business. I wouldn’t have done Law. Atiya and I would’ve had a completely different friendship.

But see, that’s all speculation. Because nothing would’ve been different once I got to class 9 and realised that I’m dead-brained at Pure maths regardless. And there goes studying Economics. Heheh. I would’ve ended up in MUFY. I would’ve ended up in econs/accounts with ICT probably and would’ve been way more miserable.

So that little trip down an alternate universe is of no consequence. The only difference would be friendship dynamics and how miserable I am, and I wouldn’t be able to brag and say “I was a pre-law student and I can memorize huge amounts of information and write it down verbatim”. Yep.

Academically… I guess I can’t control where I ended up. But I let that break me down for way too long. I gave that so much power over me, that I can’t control the outcome of anything. I let my life slip out of my hands and float around out there.

Academically, I don’t care much anymore. My grades are okay, some are even good. As long as I get into Monash I don’t give a damn.

But I’m done fucking with my health. I’ll be DAMNED if I let “circumstances” fuck-up my plans anymore. It’s not happening. I don’t care how far I have to quote-unquote ‘push’ myself. Everything depends upon my perception, and I’m changing my perception.

One of the girls who was telling I’m pushing myself too much said that “I can’t lie to myself like that” when I said I decided to like a teacher who is quite honestly, insincerely kind and has a tendency to poke fun at students. At least she was trying, though. And once she realised that I’m a serious student with serious and un-stupid questions, she actually started taking my questions seriously too. So it wasn’t that I was so-called “lying” to myself. My change in perception and decision to stay pleasant no matter what changed her attitude towards me too.

So it wasn’t that I was so-called “lying” to myself. My change in perception and decision to stay pleasant no matter what, changed her attitude towards me too. That’s actually how people work. Some people who tend to make excuses for everything (including me, previously), tend to deny their capabilities and enhance their limitations. THAT. Is lying to yourself.

It may be that I’m not the most positive person around, and I like indulging my dark side once in a while. But the best parts of me are both positive (which scares me) and quite dark (which is easier). But only one side will allow me to stay healthy and on top of my game. It’s time to stop being an emotional New Age hormone-driven teenager.

Will the real Nafisa Tabassum stand up? Yes, she believes it’s high time she did get off her ass and “pushed” herself a bit–or a lot.