passerby

968full-whisper-of-the-heart-screenshot
I LOVE LOVE LOVE WHISPER OF THE HEART. it’s studio ghibli. of course i love it. but yeah. i can relate to it so much and it makes me heart feel full & i feel so much less alone.  i feel like shizuku.

hi again. this is my attempt at self expression (no, it’s a rant to myself) , because i haven’t been doing a lot of that lately.  i hope this blog can serve that purpose (hello yes it’s 2017 and i still have no phone or snapchat or whatever the cool kids are on these days)

so yeah! i’ll give this a go.

i’m angry.

i’m angry because i really, really, wanna go to an art museam, and look at Rembrandt. i wanna paint something amazing or have a really cool art teacher, or play medleys on the violin with other people who love music. i wanna write and go to writing groups and get published in a newspaper where people can see my name and go to therapy so i can let my rage out and start healing and i wanna go to the library and research on obscure topics for projects and take a subway to nowhere. i wanna go out for a run at 5am till i can feel my heartbeat in my ears and the city under my feet and i wanna be able to cry really loud instead of the way i do right now where the tears just fall and i focus on being expressionless and on my breathing.  i wanna meet up with my friends and laugh at dumb jokes and dye my hair blue and sneak out with my girlfriend and really actually start living so i have crazy stories to tell when i’m an aunt.

it’s like i’m stuck in this parallel world where i’m watching a movie except the movie is my life and i’m watching everyone live (on the internet////the people i text///my sister//my cousins//everyone) and i’m the silent witness, the onlooker, the passerby stuck doing nothing.

i can’t. there are no art museums in islamabad. i don’t have an art teacher, and violin classes are too expensive to take. maybe i could get published but i wish i knew local magazines where i could start and there’s literally no writing groups. mom would never take me to therapy.  the kuch khaas library charges like 50 dollars a month lmao no, and i can’t step outside of the house without my family and running alone at 5am i’ll probably get raped.  i’m suffocating suffocating suffocating and i wish i wasn’t

but i’m healing . i love the violin, and i love my hair and i’m ok with the fact that i have small boobs and i’m going to summer camp and directing a play there in the morning and i go to debates class and friendlies and i met up with my friends on my birthday and things aren’t so bad. i have an amazing best friend, and chocolates in the fridge, and a baby sister so cute random strangers take pictures of her.

things are okay.

x

nirvana 

checklist criteria for depression isn’t cool

“Hannah Baker didn’t have nearly enough reasons to kill herself.”

Didn’t she?

A couple of disclaimers beforehand: I know this is a sensitive topic, and if you don’t feel up to open talk about suicide right now, stop. I’m also no psychological professional. This is just my speaking from my own experience and thoughts. Finally, I know 13 Reasons Why is only a TV show (and book) at the end of the day,  but it’s about a very real issue that mostly everyone deals with (or has thoughts on): dying. With that, onwards.

Here’s why the comments section of literally all the YouTube clips/discussions on 13RW bother me. These comments say, “oh wait, since I have it so much worse than her, she literally had no reason to go and slit her wrists in a bathtub”. Or, “the show promotes suicide.” And worse, the “welcome to your tape” memes. (if you haven’t seen them on your feeds already, then here you go. Lighthearted, but…sick.)

It’s really, really horrible, because at the end of the day…your depression matters? It’s legitimate? There isn’t any checklist criteria that you have to meet to be depressed? Sure, abusive households, sexual abuse, eat disorders, they all may contribute. They may be reasons.

But they’re not the only reasons.

And that’s what’s important to remember. I was sad for the longest time (more on that another time, I suppose) but I didn’t mention it to anyone even once because I couldn’t bring myself to. Anyone who doesn’t meet the “criteria” is just seen as ungrateful, or lying. The same way Hannah’s tape on Zach: the one where she talked about being lonely. It just?? wasn’t seen as a legitimate reason? My grandmother is going through a lot these days, and the lack of human contact is one of the reasons why. It counts. It counts. While the fact that she actually sent Zach a tape blaming him is another story, a person’s sadness is complex. It’s theirs, and in their head, and they’re suffering. So who are you to say they’re not?

OH, also. Sylvia Plath. In case you didn’t go through the Bell Jar or casually read through her entire Wikipedia page (because that’s my idea of a night in. Aha.), here’s what happened. She was bright. Academic laurels, prizes, and scholarships came easily to her. She went to Newnham and everything, until she went to a seminar in NY and kind of fell apart. Enough to have to be submitted into an asylum. (Also, guys. The Bell Jar. I’m still not okay someone fangirl please>!?)

The example seems kind of out of place, but the thing is. She had it all, on first glance. But she was mentally ill, regardless. She wasn’t okay for the longest time, and found it difficult to read, sleep, write, and ended her life with her head in an oven. Everyone’s struggle is legitimate, and mocking the reasons they went off the edge isn’t okay in any circumstance.

Sorry for being an internet priest, by the way, but I feel like this needed to be said.

bye lovelies,

x

nirvana

 

 

 

 

 

um, hi.

nirvana here.

i used to blog a while ago (okay, maybe like three years ago shhhh), but, uh

i’m back!

i suppose this blog’s just a way of announcing my existence to the void, regardless of whether anyone’s listening. i have a lot of feelings about literally everything, so might as well pen them down! besides, i’ve been told that people are generally quite lovely, if you actually move down the cumbersome road of talking to them.

i like reading/writing/cooking various kinds of pastas, and getting excited about twenty one pilots lyrics. also, making lists. a warning would be fair at this point: you’ll probably find an alarming amount of list posts in the future.

with that, i’m signing off. i hope that sufficed as good enough introduction.

x