What does the future hold?

I don't mind the isolation so much anymore. It used to bother me. Make me restless. But not so much anymore.

Sometimes, though, it does scare me.

I'm a firm believer in things happening for a reason. In every event preparing us for what's to come next.

If all of this is preparation, the question is for what? What could possibly result in so much separation and isolation? What could possibly need me to be so familiar with the concepts of compromise, self-control and putting myself second to most things?

When I look at it in this light, maybe a single life won't be such a bad thing at all...

Insomnia

On many a night, like tonight, I find myself lying awake unable to quiet my mind sufficiently to sleep.

On nights like these, I find myself thinking about things that are so far in the future, that I don't even know if the plans I'm considering now will even apply then. Here's a few things I've been thinking about:

1) the PGCE - a teaching qualification in England.
2) My masters
3) a PhD
4) Getting married
5) Being in an place where I can discover who I am.

Please note, that though I am 24, going on 25, I still have 2 more years before I complete my undergraduate degree in math.

I can't figure out whether I want to be a researcher, a lecturer, or teach kids about the wonders of math. Perhaps I don't have to figure this stuff out just yet. But then I think, I'm going to be 25 in a couple of months and I'm still living off my parents.

If I think about this practically, it makes sense to do the PGCE straight after my bachelors. It'll be the quickest way to start earning a decent living, at a job I'm less likely to hate. But then I feel like I'll be giving up on myself, without giving myself the chance to try my hand at research. What if I'm really good at it? What if after studying further I have greater insight in things mathematical, and I give it up to be practical?

What if, it's possible for me to hold a job and study full time in England?

I feel like it's time to move out and move on. But I don't know how to tell them... I really don't know how to tell them without sounding ungrateful, or making it sound like they've been suffocating me.

I don't want my future to depend on other people anymore.

I want my life to be mine.

I think it's time.

And yet I can't find a way to tell them, without sounding like a greedy child. Because until I figure it out, I'll be living off them.

Should I do my masters first, or the PGCE? If I do my masters first then I can come back and teach in Pakistan, but if I do the PGCE I can teach in both places.

If I do my masters first, I can teach up to bachelors level courses in Pakistan, though I won't be able to teach in England. I might be able to to some sort of teaching/research assisstanceship.

I been thinking so long about this, that I think I've been dreaming about it. I can see it all now. Finish my degree. Work for about 8 months. Do my masters. Do the PGCE. Then do my PhD.

Do everything that other people want me to do and still do what I want to do. Of course, the scholarships and funding for all these things will work out magically and without any hitches.

And of course, along the way the perfect man will show up, and we'll have a perfect life together. The End.

Hehe. Yeah well, I did say it was a dream!

Self Expression

It's not something I'm particularly good at. Probably actually quite bad at. Which is probably why this particular blog is quite starved.

For lots of people, self expression is quite easy. It may not necessarily be eloquent, but it's easy. Me, I find it hard to shriek into my pillow.

I'm learning to play the piano. I'm quite bad at it. It's kind of sad. Given that music, for many people, is a form of self expression.

Other people use some sort of art to express themselves. I'm not much good at that either.

I chose to study math, because it made sense. They're isn't much grey area, once something has been solved/proved. Sometimes I think I should probably have decided to study something else, maybe something more creative. And then I think I'd be miserable.

I think, I think too much. But that is another matter entirely.

I look at people who seem to go through life so easily, and I wonder how?

Is it that they don't think too much? Or is it that their internal moral codes allow for more? More of what? I don't know.

Do I have too many inhibitions? Am I too conservative? Am I too self-righteous? Maybe I just need to give it all a rest and just let loose. But I fail to see the point. I fail to see the point of doing things which don't really bring me any kind of pleasure just because a bunch of "other" people think this is what makes life worth living.

I feel threatened by most people. I think it might be because I lack confidence in myself. I feel like everyone else is better than me. It makes me work much harder than a lot of people. There are people who work harder than me. But for them I think, it's a more personal need to excel at something they love. I think I work the way I do because I want people to see me as someone of worth.

Perhaps, if I had been someone who was "good looking" I might not feel so threatened by the world. But that's the wishful part of me speaking.

Maybe someday, many years from now, a day will come, when I don't feel like I need to prove something to the world. Maybe, someday, I'll actually believe what I say, and not care that I'm different from most people I know.

Give my soul a bath

I seem to wake up most days with a head ache. I think it's the chocolate.

I feel like my insides have somehow become filthy. I think it's it's the smoking and the lack of praying.

It feels like when I see a really dirty duster. It's so dirty and gray, you think that that might just be it's real colour. Then you wash it. And something close to snowy white comes out from underneath. It's really something quite beautiful.

I feel like that dirty duster. And I think I may need some help in washing out the filth.

I've been considering an idea on and off for sometime now. I think I will tell my sister about the smoking. I think she might be able to help me quit once and for all.

I think I might be close to feeling something in prayer, or about prayer, which I suppose is a start. They say it's a cyclical process. Form the habit, then the feeling comes, which perpetuates the habit.

I feel slightly lost, and slightly like I've been unfocused and fuzzy. I think if I can work on things one at a time, that feeling of being stuck or lost or unclear, may go away. At least I hope so.

A Letter to my tutor

Dear Sir,

I feel like I should be apologizing for wasting your time. For giving you false hope that I may, one day, go forward and write my PhD. Perhaps now would be a good time to tell you that I don't think I have it. The stuff, the dedication, the inspiration it takes to write, any work, let alone truly great work, of any importance.

I spend my days dreaming big and talking passionately. But I fear that there may actually be nothing behind it. I fear that it never gets past the surface. If I can never acheive a deeper understanding, how am I supposed to take anything further?

I realize that for most mathematicians, there is actually a very serious amount of continuous hard work and dedication. But then I fear that I may have taken a wrong turn on the road to finding my way to being a good mathematician.

Most of my time is spent trapped in my head trying to find a greater understanding of things I do not necessarily understand.

I'm sorry if I ever misled you or disappointed you.

Yours,

Sameen

The Key

Lately it seems that most of what I've written has been about me being tired and confused and unhappy. At times it seems so simply to just let go and let things be. To focus on that which matters and let everything else go.

Maybe I simply think far too much. Maybe letting go of things that I don't have any control over isn't such a difficult thing to do. Perhaps I simply have to stop thinking and trying to fix everything.

Perhaps that is where the key lies. To simply trust in God and take things as they come.

Let's see how long this will last...

I think I made a booboo...again

So it seems that again I have done a stupid thing.

I was watching a movie and had an idea. I was watching Dear John. So you can imagine that the idea would be, well utter rot. But it sounded like a good idea at 1.30 in the morning.

I sent him an email. It made sense at the time. I basically asked him to be my penpal!! What possessed me at the time, I do not know.

But it is all done now. He hasn't replied and probably won't. So eventually I'll forget about it. I can't imagine that he'd remember things concerning me, so that's fine then.

A Dream

I want it all. Well not ALL. I mean I want the talent and the courage and the self-confidence. If something else comes along with it then so be it.

I love watching movies about the performing arts. More specifically about music. And damn! at those moments I wish I could stand up there in front of people and share.

There was a time when I was pretty good at singing. But that was a long time ago. And I've spent many years in which my only audience has been my shower.

I've taken piano lessons on and off for years. And I've never performed intentionally in front of anyone other than my music teacher. Some how I never ended up at my previous teachers' recitals and my new teacher doesn't have them, I don't think. Though even if she did I don't think she'd ask me to perform. I have a class twice a month. Not exactly the most serious of students.

There was a time I was so serious about the piano that I even spoke to my dad about going to the Royal College of Music in London. Oh I was so ready to dedicate my life to it. But then perhaps it's for the best.

My mother was convinced that all musicians are drunk womanizers. No matter how hard I tried to convince her that you couldn't perform with anyone if you were drunk, she wouldn't listen. So then I decided to study math.

I love math. But I will always remember that my first choice was music. Maybe that's why I never got up the nerve to perform. It would be too hard to bare if I was good enough to perform and then never got to share it with anyone.

My mother wants me to play in front of people now. Now when I'm 24 and terrified of drawing attention to myself. I've spent so much time trying to be a part of the scenery, I can't seem to shake the habit.

Sometimes I want to sing so badly it literally hurts. But I can't find the words. I can't find the music. I'm too afraid to want it again.

I'll tell you a secret. I even looked online and checked when the grade exams for music are in London. And I could possibly even take them. But I don't think this is something they'd support me in. I think I've done too much jumping around for them to be ready to support me in something like this.

On social smoking and an actual work out regime

Today I decided. I will loose weight and become fit and healthy. I decided.

And it's not on of those I've-decided-in-my-head-and-probably-won't-actually-do-anything-about-it kind of decided. The decision has been put into action.

I told the trainer and she has started the training regime. Indeed. We did legs today. I don't think I'll be able to walk tomorrow, but hey! It doesn't matter..we're doing stomach and arms tomorrow...who needs legs!

But seriously, when I got home today, I could have cried! I could barely lift my feet up off the floor! I almost decided to never go back to the gym...ever. But you know what? I'll go. And I'll loose the weight and I'll feel good about being me. I've always been fine with my tummy. It's been there for a while, but I'll tell you something. It's not fun having a tummy and having it covered with burn scars. I'd be fine with one or the other, but I can't reconcile myself to both. And since the scars will go when they go, I have no choice but to bid farewell to my companion of many years...my tummy.

Farewell dear tummy! I hope we never meet again, though if we do, please try to not bring so much of your self back, please?

Elsewhere in the Land of Purple Monkeys, I've realized I have gone from smoker-smoker to social smoker. Me thinks this is progress in the quitting campaign. Perhaps the serious exercise regime will help in the total quitting. Though I do foresee a return of withdrawal in the coming months. But this time, God willing, will be different. I will resist the temptation and, in the words of Mr. Darcy (Sigh!), "I shall conquer this!"

Carpal Tunnel

About a month ago I went to the doctor because my right wrist was hurting. He told me I had tendinitis, wrote of a prescription and told me to switch to thicker pens. All the changes were made and medication taken. And then it started again. Only worse this time.

I went to my homeopathic doctor today. She said the spreading of the pain and stiffness to my knuckles means it's developing into carpal tunnel. She gave me some meds, but with the strict instruction that these are only a stop gap. I need to have an acupuncture treatment done, which she says will cure the problem.

The only problem is that it requires a resting of the hands. I'm in the middle of my term. So hopefully, come November, I'll be ready for the treatment, and hopefully it'll mean that the rest of my years of studying will carry on hitch-less.

Remembering...

Sometimes, at unexpected moments, I remember. The sudden burning. The pain. The uncontrollable screams. I couldn't hold them in. They were raw and drawn out of me despite myself. I remember thinking that I should stop screaming, it's not helping anything. And yet I went on screaming.


It was water, freshly boiled. I didn't know that water could burn you that badly. It hurt so much, sometimes I don't know how I got through.

I remember less often now.

When nothing's enough

What do you do, when you've done everything you could think of, and yet you are lacking?

How do you make them see that you weren't the same person you were when you messed up so badly 2 years ago?

How do you make them see?

There are three possibilities. If I'm a well adjusted, mature, non-messed up person, I'll be fine when I'm let off the leash. If I'm like everybody else, one of two things will happen. I'll either go completely berserk, like before (exactly what he's afraid of), or, I'll be like those prisoners who don't leave their cell even once the door have been left open. Conditioning, I think is what it's called.

Who knows what will happen?

And I'm so frightened that it'll be the last option. I don't want to turn into one of those people who have been broken. I don't. I think I'm halfway there.

Him

I asked him to meet me at this event that was happening at a cafe. It promised to be a really fun evening. It was a performance by a British-Asian stand up comedian.

I sent him a text asking whether I should expect him. He'd forgotten. He seems to forget about our plans a lot. That was why I'd stopped making plans. He never made the effort either.

He's always very apologetic afterward. Always has a legitimate excuse. Always. So you can't even be mad at him or blame him. I guess he's either not interested or we just have really bad timing.

I miss him.

I wish we could actually spend time together. Sometimes I think that if we made plans with just the two of us, it would happen. But I can't meet him alone. It would upset my family. We don't date in my family. Or rather dating is disapproved of in my family.

I went to the show on my own. In retrospect it was probably good he wasn't with me. I don't think we'd have been able to look at each other after or during that show.

It was the voicing of all the bawdy that reside unspoken in our heads. It was something like everyone's first biology class on reproduction in a mixed class.

It was a good night. The only thing missing was him.

How does one ask a friend if they're interested in exploring if something more could happen without risking the friendship?

As you may have guessed, I have this friend. I've known him for about two and a half years...and I've liked him since about half an hour after I met him. For convenience's sake, let's call him Boy. He's one of those few genuinely great guys. You probably wouldn't notice him in a crowd, but once you meet him, you'd probably see him everywhere (for the record, this might just be me :P), or wish that you did.

I met during my failed attempt at full time uni. He was in his final year and I was just starting my second year when we met. We hit it off pretty well and ended up spending a lot of time together. We'd hang out with our tea and cigarettes outside the cafeteria and sometimes end up talking for hours about nothing in particular.

He brought me tea and let talk out my sadness, for want of a better word. He didn't flinch when I told him something about our family I'd told very few people. The last time I'd told a guy this, that guy had said "ouch" and changed the subject, he had been a guy I thought I had something with. I had been mistaken.

About six months after I met him, I thought Boy and I might be able to have something. As it happened, I ended up leaving the uni. He graduated two months after I left.

We both live in the same city, but in the 2 years since I left uni, we only communicated via text message, Google talk, or the very occasional phone call. We've hung out once, earlier this year. And I bumped into him at a cafe briefly last year.

All my friends tell me I need to get over him or, short of that, need to find out whether he's even interested. The only problem with that is that we have no common friends. At uni it would just be the two of us. Very occasionally some of his or my friends would show up. If it was his friend he'd end up talking to them briefly before turning back to our conversation, and the same would happen if it were my friend, but it'd be me who would talk to said friend and then turn back to our conversation.

It's been two and a half years now. I don't know whether I can be satisfied with this anymore. This sporadic conversationing and barely spending any actual time together. I really wish sometimes, that, if for no other reason than to have gotten to know him better, I'd have stayed those two months.

Now it seems that he's withdrawing. It might be that he's just busy with his job. Or it might be that this connection has spent too much time on the back burner and may be suffering for it. But I don't know how to talk to him more without feeling like I'm being pushy. He doesn't ever text first. He is the one who calls though. Even though those are few and far between. I think over the last few years we've not spoken more than 3 times on the phone.

You'd think I'd have gotten over him a long time ago. It seems, though, that I can't stop thinking about him. I don't know whether this is an infatuation or really has what it takes to go the distance.

I figure the only thing that I can do is ask him whether he's interested in exploring whether this could be something more. But how does one do that? How does one ask a friend if they're interested without endigd up losing the friend?

Any advice or pointers would be great. I'm not good at the whole guy/girl thing. So please help me figure this one out...

Drifting

Most of the time I don't understand it. Where do people find the energy to do all these things they do in life. For me, just getting out of bed is exhausting most days. If, by some miracle, you get me started on a physical task, I'll finish the job. But you have to figure out a way of getting me started. Sometimes it happens, I'll spend days thinking about something I have to do. Everyday I'll think "I should do this today. It'll barely take ten minutes." Then, somehow, I never manage to get round to it.

Today is one of those days, when sitting up is exhausting. I'm not unwell, I don't think. I just can't seem to see the point in doing most things. It's on days like this I think thoughts like, "I wish I could just sit here and close my eyes and be restful, just like this, and not think about anything or anyone and just be." But it seems that that is not to be. I am not destined for peace or tranquility. There is always a part of me that is in turmoil or tortured by some thought or deed I wish had or hadn't happened.

It's on days like these I wish I didn't have to do things. I didn't have to live. It was the greeks I think, who first had the idea of living on an entirely platonic level. But the affairs of the body will always distract us. If I had the choice to live simply as a mind with no physical form, would take it? Would life be simpler? Would life be easier?

That is the crux of it, isn't it? Life is hard. No matter what luxuries you have to help, Life is hard. And sometimes I feel like I don't have the energy anymore to live it, or do it, or whatever it is we do in this world. Sometimes I think that it would be easier to simply close my eyes and drift away forever, far away from this world and it's complications.

But then I remember, we do not live in this world alone. Drifting away could quite possibly be the most selfish thing a human being could do. I wish I could, once in my life, be completely and utterly selfish. If I were though, it would throw off our carefully constructed balance. We've had enough imbalance in our family and we will have more to come without my adding to it.

And so, from somewhere, God knows where, I will/must find the energy to keep my eyes open and do what needs to be done. Do what needs to be done. That's what I've been taught. Do what needs to be done. Let it be my mantra then, from now until there is no more need.

In a state of flux

Every few weeks I seem to find myself at this very point. And then I decide, right...what I'm doing now is something I've wanted to do for a very long time...so I should stick with it. Then I stop thinking about it. Except for this niggling doubt that I'll be total shit at it.

I'm studying Pure Mathematics, for those of you who want to know. I planned on going into teaching and research. But I really can't shake the feeling that I'll be total cow patties at it. At least the research part. I enjoy teaching. But it's the research part that gets me every time. I keep thinking...that needs a lot of brains...maybe I don't have the right type of brains...then what?

And then I think...something more hands on like engineering might be far more interesting! But what do I know if engineering? Nothing. I know none whom I can speak to...so what to do? If I were still at school I would have gone to my academic counselor and asked for some advice. But I'm not. I'm 24 and studying from home. So to whom do I go to for advice?

I don't think I've ever felt so directionless before. And I've had my fair share of confusion.

I think perhaps the problem is that I want to make a difference. And to make a difference through teaching doesn't really have any tangible effect for a while. And I've always been more of an immediate effect kind of person. Perhaps through something more engineering or physics based I'd be able to to something that might have a more tangible effect.

And that is where the problem arises. I've never studied physics, and I'm pretty certain engineering uses physics. Studying physics now wouldn't be hard. It would just mean my degree will take perhaps a bit longer.

Decisions. Decisions. I hate decisions. I may end up just sticking with what I'm doing. But who knows...

Left behind

It doesn't feel like it looks in the movies, when it happens to you. In the movies they cry, sobs wrack their bodies and then a new day begins. In real life, it's far worse. You don't always get the release of tears, you don't always understand what's happening. You don't always know why. And you don't always have a friendly shoulder to cry on, or a best friend to help you through. Sometimes, there's just you. Left behind.

I'm that girl

Sometimes I wish I were that girl. The conventional one, who does conventional things. The girl people don't feel intimidated by. The kind of girl who's sweet and easy going.

And then reality comes flooding back in and I think...damn! can't go around being that girl!! It's much more fun being me...I'm the girl who decided she wanted her room to be a different colour, so went out, bought the paints and brushes, learnt to use my dad's sanding machine, and painted my room. I'm the girl who decided none of the one act plays I could find (in eighth grade mind you) so adapted a story to fit our time line and what I wanted to do.

I'm the girl who decided I wasn't learning what I wanted to at Uni so I left, without a plan. And here I am a year two years later, studying what I want, the way I want to.

That's who I am. I forget sometimes. But then, thankfully, I remember. I'm the girl who decides what she wants to do and does it.

Tally

Tally:
Friday: 2

I have an 'itis'! It's all over now!

I visited the doctor yesterday. My right wrist has been hurting for a couple of days. It's getting in the way of my writing.

He pulled and pressed my fingers, thumb and wrist. And then tills me "It's tendinitis." Is it there thinking "shit! my cousin had this and she had to have it operated!" Then he says "It's from writing too much with a thin pen." In my head, I'm giggling. Who ever heard of someone hurting themselves by writing! Apparently me!

Oh well, this apparently just means a cream and medication for a couple of weeks, and no more pretty thin pens...sigh! I shall venture forth and buy "big fat pens" as recommended, or rather prescribed!

Here's the tally for the last couple of days. It would seem hat just the idea of having to write how much I've been smoking down is helping me cut down!

Tally:

Tuesday: 2
Wednesday: 1
Thursday: 2
Friday: 0 (I stayed home)

I'm a smoker. I want to quit.

I'm a smoker. I want to quit.

But here's the deal, all you non-smokers out there, it's not easy. And less so for those whose family members don't know. You start in secret and you'd rather quit in secret than tell them something that would break their hearts.

I have days when I could smoke a pack and days where I barely feel like touching a cigarette. But I have one rule, which since I made I haven't broken. I don't smoke at home. At all.

I smoke when I'm out. Which is basically at my tutors' place in the evenings. I try not to smoke during the day even if I'm out. Another rule I'm trying to put into place. But this one is a little harder than the first. But I'm trying.

I've cut down considerably since I came home. Whilst I was away at college, I could smoke a pack a day, and very often that's just what I did. But here's the thing, it made me feel like crap, so I'd cut down. And then for various reasons, it would climb right back up.

But recently I've kept it to no more than 4 in a day, 5 on a bad day. But I try to smoke as little as I can.

There are days, when I don't leave the house and so don't end up smoking at all. Mostly, those days are fine. But when I get to the three day mark, it gets hard. Whether it's from spending too much time with family or from withdrawal, I don't know.

This is the situation as it stands right now.

I'm trying to make positive changes in my life. I've started exercising again. I've noticed that when I exercise I feel less like smoking.

I've started drinking more water. How that's connected to this we'll see. It may just help with the inevitable weight gain issue, which comes hand in hand with quitting. Here's hoping.

In a sense, I guess I'm trying to replace cigarettes with exercise. No one can say that's a bad thing.

So here goes.

Success or failures, I shall try and chronicle them here. And at the end of it, hopefully I'll have quit.

Earplugs!

I've always been fascinated by earplugs! Such a handy little device, especially for people like me. People who don't like loud noises, or too many noises, happening at the same time.

I first realized that earplugs would be great the first time I went away to college and ended up with a rather noisy roommate. Man, that girl could make noise! She happened to be one of those people who seem to talk very loudly for some unknown reason, like we were perpetually in a crowded cafeteria! Oh the chewing noises! Ugh!

Anyway, we were in the same room for about a year. And I realised that perhaps earplugs would be a good investment. But then I found myself a conundrum...I sleep like the dead, or at least used to at the time. I mean I had my dad give wake-up calls on the days I had early classes!!

So yeah, how would that work. It'd be lovely to actually have some peace and quiet in the room, but then, would I hear my alarm?

I didn't end up buying the earplugs, but we didn't spend too much time in the room at the same time after about a month.

A hope and a prayer

I am so very tired. If you guys have had your fair share of all-nighters, exams and all such things through college, you might have had a glimpse of how tired I am. I suppose it would be more accurate to say that I'm exhausted, exhausted beyond belief.

Most people have times in their lives which are more trying than others. I've had almost six long years, of almost perpetual shit. I've gone from idealistic child, to sudden quasi-grown-up, afraid to speak of how i felt for fear of breaking down. I became the wanna-be rebel, but it seems i didn't have what it takes to really be one. I became the misguided child and made my mistakes, and came home the broken child.

I was lucky I had a place to come home to and people around me to put me back together. But it seems the reassembly was incomplete. Perhaps in time it will get better, or I could become increasingly aware of what has gone missing.

Who knows what that thing is? I don't. I wonder if I don't know what was lost, how am I to ever find it again? Will this be all there is for the rest of forever? Or if I get through this will there be something different on the other side?

But, my dear, I fear that I may not make it to the other side. How much longer can one person bear their load alone?

I have gotten to the point where it seems I'm losing weight from the sheer weight of the stress in my life. A point I've never come to before. Not ever. Not even when I had just come home and was so broken, it scared the people who knew me best.

Thank you God for bringing me into this world amongst these people. Thank you and grant me the strength to endure. Hold my hand and guide me to the other side. My strength alone is not enough, guide me and strengthen me. Please.