My Soul Loves Your Soul

The words gawked back, mocking
Golden hues snuck through my window
Innocent and oblivious
To the ramming news  
Galaxies exploded, atoms collided
Tore a violent path into my mind
Understand, understand!
Froze like a damaged clock
Ensnared in a protective daze
Don’t think, don’t think
 
I knew you
Glimpses, fragments
Made me frown, fume  
God’s timing— I latched
Distraction— I lingered
In your boisterous kingdom
Nightmare was stomped on
Guilt and grief slumbered
Let me prance here forever
A fervent reverie
 
Jagged words wounded
Heart ached, lips wobbled
Spell of safety shattered
Ravenous beasts broke out of their cages
Anguish returned for revenge
Trembling, broken sobs
Brought a gift— relief
Give me more— addiction
Craved the stings
Trapped tears begged to be freed
 
Carried your voice
Like a precious, giddy secret
Morning omelets, hospital corridors
Bumpy car rides, lively weddings
Novel era— I’m reborn!
Eight faraway hours
Wandered your fretful dreams
Did you see me?
Sent my fond spirit across oceans
Did it reach you?
 
Beautiful, witty
Complex, sensitive
Unseen, misjudged
Depth recognized depth
My soul loves your soul
Extraordinary connection
I want to scream to the cosmos
I found you
The world knows you, yet it doesn’t
Perfectly flawed, rare human gem
 
Delusion or prophecy?
Perhaps I’m insane
I don’t care
Can a girl dream?
Believe in stories and miracles?
These sparkles in my heart are real
Fairylike solitude nights
A parrot named Nico
My birth town is calling
Will you be there?
 
You saved me, though you’re unaware
Maybe that’s more magical
Is it my turn to save you?
I want to thank you, as many times as
The number of glittering sand grains washed by gentle waves
The number of brittle leaves scattered in fall winds
The number of fluttering snowflakes settled on evergreens
I want to thank you
Until the seas dry out
And the stars dim

Dear AZ, I’m Sorry

If I said sorry until the Sun drew its final breath and burst into a billion brilliant shards, would my frantic, futile apologies reach you? You said I was an angel, but you were wrong. You realize that now, don’t you?

Conversations with you were like trying to keep up with a puppy darting around too quickly. They were frustrating, to tell the truth. We would endlessly jump from topic to topic, and still have so much to say. We would only run out of time. Hours under the glaring sun on those wooden benches near the university gate, the flowers behind us listening. Someone once told me, “You and AZ sit together during lectures and chitchat the entire time.” The fact is, it was easy talking to you. Too easy. Almost as natural as breathing. And I say that as a wary individual who doesn’t relax around most people. Sometimes, the bittersweet nostalgia knocks on my door and smiles cruelly. Public Health assignments. South Park. Silly banter. Deep discussions about psychology, philosophy, and religion. Humorous and tragic personal stories. Thank you for the free car rides, although you were a reckless driver. And thank you for agreeing to be the vice president of Anime Club for my sake when you weren’t even into anime. Remember the snail I accidentally stepped on that you tried to save? I recognized then that you had a big heart. Your dream was to become a stand-up comedian. I’ll never forget. It’s unfortunate that you never got the chance. You said I was the only person you had ever truly opened up to, the sole person who really knew you. Why me? I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.  

I’m not going to lie. I don’t exactly miss our friendship. If you were alive, I would never reconnect. But now, knowing what I know would happen three years later, it gnaws at my conscience that I abandoned you at the worst possible time, in the worst possible way. And I can never undo it. Sorrow rips into my heart, twisting it, churning it, chewing it, and spitting out the mangled pieces. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

When I heard the news, my brain froze into a numb trance, like a train coming to a sudden halt. It wouldn’t allow me to think about you. Every time the smallest flicker of a thought of you attempted to surface, my mind would whack it down and scramble to flee. I spent weeks doing nothing but fully delving into fictional stories and binge-watching online streamers, thoroughly escaping into other worlds and shutting out reality, like I do best. I didn’t even cry for a while. But the waterworks eventually came, as I knew they would. Shuddering, uncontrollable sobs. They weren’t tears of grief, loss or longing. They were tears of immense guilt and something close to a caretaker’s horror, regret and anguish. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for being passive aggressive, blocking your number, and cutting you off abruptly with zero explanations. I still remember the last time I ever saw you, very clearly. It’s as vivid in my mind as a black cat on a snowy day. I was leaving campus. As I walked to my car, I spotted you entering through the gate. You noticed me then, too. We both instantly turned away at the exact same moment. That’s when I knew— you understood that our friendship was over. Frankly, I was relieved. I couldn’t handle a confrontation. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

It wasn’t personal. You’re not the only one I severed ties with at that time, and not the only person who was experiencing a rough patch, who needed me. Coincidentally, a couple of my other close friends were also going through a difficult time, yet I cut off everyone, avoided everything, and completely isolated. I was dealing with my own demons. I didn’t know it back then, but I was in the clutches of a full psychotic episode. Believe it or not, I had entire delusional systems about you and my other friends planning to break into my house, kidnap me, murder me, or harm my family. In fact, even after you passed away, I had thoughts that you may have faked your death to come kidnap me. Despite my disappearance, I never stopped praying for you and the friends I forsook. I might’ve not been able to stay, but I never stopped caring from afar. I swear it. I know that these must sound like pathetic excuses now. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

I wonder what it is you wanted to tell me, when you said that you desperately needed to talk and I responded that I was busy. I was so done, to be honest. Utterly overwhelmed, exhausted, and paranoid, beyond anything you can imagine. Terrified of the outside world and human beings, including you. You weren’t the only one suffering. There’s nothing I could’ve done differently. It’s the absolute truth. I could no longer be the supportive best friend I should’ve been. The caring mother you needed me to be. The “angel” you believed I was. I wonder what happened to Waddles. I wonder why you never took the books I got you. I still have them, you know. Sitting on my shelf collecting dust, forever an aching reminder. And Teal misses you. I wonder what happened to you after I left. Did things improve, or fall further downhill? What was happening in your life at that time? I wonder how it ended. “Tragic accident” is all I got. What kind of accident? Was it quick or slow? Peaceful or painful? What were you thinking and feeling in the minutes and seconds before it was over? Did you suffer? I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

I wonder what you’re doing right now. I remember once telling you, “You never know when you’re going to die. You could die tomorrow. So don’t delay it.” Ironic, right? I hope you took my advice. I wonder, I wonder, I wonder. And I’ll never know. And to be completely honest, I’d rather not. It’s a mercy that I don’t know. Because some questions are better left unanswered. I don’t think my heart would bear the answers. In many ways, you were the most tortured soul I’ve ever met. Life was not kind to you. So maybe, just maybe, death was a kindness for you. I hope to God that you’re in bliss now. And I hope that sometime, somewhere, somehow, you forgive me. So that my soul can rest from this dreadful remorse clawing at it. I can’t change anything. I can’t fix anything. I can only say, I’m sorry. Praying for you is the one way I can attempt to atone for any hurt I may have caused. And I promise you this: I will always pray for you, God-willing. That is something I can do.

May Allah have mercy on your unique, tender, once-tormented soul.

God’s Promise

“I had been waiting for this day for a long, long time. The day the curse is lifted, the day the anxiety and paranoia dwindle away, the day the underlying issues are resolved, the day the heavy weight in my chest is removed, the day I breathe a sigh of relief after holding my breath for what seemed like an eternity, the day the blissful peace returns to my soul. Today, that day has come. I’m free at last. ‘Be patient, for indeed, the promise of Allah is true.’ ”

-Nora Ammar

An Autumn Secret

Past nightmare
Traces of the scare
Scarcely survived
Barely alive
Anxious, empty, praying
Autumn branches swaying
 
Fate, unexpected
Secret, unsuspected
My heart laughed
Merry time passed
New life, golden and dear
Slayed the stubborn fear
 
Warm fatherly eyes
Safe— silenced the cries
Smug teenage smile
May I stay a while?
Found my confidence and glee
Because you believed in me
 
I see, in fact
Beyond that boastful act
Beautiful soul
Tender and whole
My affection– a radiant glow
You will never know
 
Forbidden on four levels
Trick of the devils
Even when I say goodbye
This love will never die
Like a buried treasure
You’re my secret forever

Wingless Angel

Once in a millennium
The heavens dance in welcome
As the planets twirl and sway
And the stars make way
For a special soul to descend
To Earth— a godsend
 
Do human angels exist?
I think I met one, I insist
Intelligent, soft-spoken and shy
A magnificent, fragile butterfly
A heart so pure it shakes the skies
Reflected in those dark, innocent eyes
 
Her sacrifices— I cannot count
Her forgiveness— beyond any amount
A silent sufferer
Full of love; a giver
Imperfect, but perfectly so
An angelic human, you know
 
So believe me, when my heart sings
That not all angels have wings 

Dear New Giza University

You gave me a grueling six years
Painted with laughter and tears.
Melodies of highs and lows,
Tales of triumphs and blows.  
Yet the priceless lessons learned
Are worth every flame that burned.  
Despite the bitterness I knew,  
I must say, thank you, NGU
For the moments— happy and sad,
For the memories— good and bad.

Anime: Weird Japanese Cartoons?

When I was in middle school, anime (or Japanese animated shows), was a virtually unknown phenomenon. Even those who were vaguely familiar with it typically had something like this in mind: “Oh, you mean those weird Chinese cartoons? Who even watches those?” The “cool kids” definitely didn’t. To me, and to many others like me, anime was our own secret universe. It provided a haven— an alternate, much more fascinating and enchanted reality— for the introverts, the outcasts, the peculiars and the geeks who weren’t interested in a shallow, dreary social life and longed for a thrilling, magical, adventurous escape from this mundane, ordinary world. There was an unspoken rule at my school: whatever you did, you did NOT admit that you watch anime. Only the “losers” were into such outlandish things, after all. We few fans were hidden, revealing ourselves solely once we became certain that the person in front of us is a fellow anime enthusiast. It felt like we were members of an underground movement, constantly cautious about exposing our identities, continuously on the lookout for signs of people who shared our views and passions. Sometimes, a little clinking keychain of an anime symbol would give it away. Or a glimpse of a doodle of an anime character in a notebook. Discovering another anime devotee was always a delightful experience. “I finally found someone like me!”, we would internally squeal. Despite being the quiet kids, meeting each other would mean instantly transforming into chatterboxes, overjoyed to be able to rant about what we love. 

Fast forward to today, and anime has exploded into a popular trend. Now, it is quite rare to meet a person who hasn’t heard about this Japanese wonder. Countless individuals of all ages, personalities, and ethnicities find entertainment in it. Celebrities dress up like the characters, and rappers make references to them in their songs. Netflix streams the series, and cinemas across the globe play the movies. Social media is jam-packed with witty anime memes. Large-scale events dedicated to anime take place worldwide, and stores everywhere sell the merchandise. To our pleasant surprise, the otaku (a Japanese word that is used to refer to anime fanatics) culture has become widespread. As much as I relish sharing the joy and zeal of this beautiful marvel with the world, part of me will always feel nostalgic about the days when it was our little secret, when people who enjoyed anime did so out of true love and not for the mere sake of hopping on the bandwagon. We social misfits and castaways will forever be the first true anime freaks. 

        You might be wondering, what is so special about anime anyway? Besides the captivating and unparalleled art style, animation, music, and voice acting, which spectacularly bring the characters to life, Japanese people have a unique way of storytelling that keeps us on the edge of our seats, stirs our emotions, and moves us in indescribable ways. It’s truly addictive. From anime are born some of the most inimitable and remarkable characters, whose profound struggles and stories touch our hearts and greatly inspire us. Many of these characters are so well-written that we feel as if we personally know and adore them, as if they’re precious friends we’ve bonded with since long ago. Contrary to what the majority assume, anime is not childish— far from it. In fact, most of the shows are not even child-oriented and actually target a teenage or adult audience. A multitude of deep and thoughtful themes such as war, politics, poverty, loss, death, betrayal, vengeance, justice, family, friendship, love, adventure, dreams, destiny, growing up, work ethic, and tenacity are explored. Similar to Western TV series and other media, anime comprises a variety of diverse genres, including romance, sports, slice of life, horror, mystery, fantasy, isekai (where a character is transported to another world, e.g., a virtual world), and mecha (a subgenre of science fiction that features robots). Anime is also classified according to demographics. For example, shoujo anime are directed at young girls, while shounen anime are aimed at young boys. Through allowing ourselves to delve into these incredible tales outside of our own reality, not only do we enjoy enthralling, soul-stirring stories and connect with extraordinary, awe-inspiring characters, but we develop depth, empathy, introspection, critical thinking, problem-solving skills, and the ability to imagine and create— as well as learn valuable life lessons. Anime allows us to live vastly different lives, visit myriad dazzling realms, go on numerous life-changing journeys, meet various influential people, and undergo exceptional experiences the real world cannot possibly allow us to encounter. Sure, all of fiction enables this for us, but I would argue that anime has its brilliant aspects that one will never come across in other works. Not to mention the educational value it contains— informing one a great deal about Japanese language and culture. 

        How about a little history lesson? The very first anime series, Astro Boy, was produced in 1963. Since then, anime began airing on Japanese television and hit a peak of popularity during the 1980s, becoming the largest film industry in the country (“The History of Anime”). How did Japanese animation reach the rest of the world? Well, the 1990s saw anime spreading to other regions of the globe, as series were translated and broadcast across multiple countries. Many shows such as Dragon Ball (1986), Sailor Moon (1992), Digimon (1999), and One Piece (1999) became universally well-known. Places like Akihabara in Tokyo, said to be otaku heaven, sprung up. Much like how books are adapted into movies, most anime is based on manga, or Japanese comics. Osamu Tezuka, the manga artist of Astro Boy, is considered the father of modern manga (“A Small Glimpse into the History of Japanese Anime”).

        Curious about anime and would like to give it a try? Here is my personal recommendation list of must-watch shows for beginners that are bound to get you hooked:

• Attack on Titan  
• Death Note  
• Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood  
• Code Geass
• Haikyuu!!  
• Naruto

Works Cited

“The History of Anime.” Milford Library, https://milford.lib.de.us/2020/04/17/the-history-of-anime/.

“A Small Glimpse into the History of Japanese Anime.” Go! Go! Nihon, 24 Oct. 2018, https://gogonihon.com/en/blog/a-small-glimpse-into-history-of-japanese-anime/. Accessed 17 Dec. 2021. 

Realm of Magic

I feel great pity for those who believe that fiction is mere superficial entertainment and are missing out on one of the most remarkable gifts of the human mind and soul. Fiction is the magical realm from which imagination and creativity are cultivated. Through allowing ourselves to delve into profound tales outside of our own reality, not only do we enjoy fascinating, soul-stirring stories and connect with unique, awe-inspiring characters, but we develop depth, empathy, critical thinking, and the ability to imagine and create, as well as learn valuable life lessons. Fiction allows us to live vastly different lives, visit countless dazzling worlds, go on numerous life-changing journeys, meet various influential people, and undergo extraordinary experiences reality cannot possibly allow us to encounter. I have read innumerable books, both fiction and nonfiction, and I swear that novels have taught and given me what nonfiction never could have, and changed and inspired me in ways nonfiction never could have. And to those who consider anime to be silly, childish cartoons, let me remind you that anime is produced by Japanese people, the geniuses of the Earth. (Japan is ranked as the number one most intelligent nation, based on the average of three indicators: number of Nobel prizes won, current average IQ, and school test ranking. Now I know that these parameters are not absolute and are biased, but let’s not get philosophical— this is the best objective measure we have). Anime has its exceptional aspects that one will never find in other works of fiction. People who belittle anime only do so because they lack the depth and intellect to appreciate it. And I guess that's okay, because anime and fiction are not meant for shallow people.

Haikyuu Haiku

Set, spike, score; high five!

Oikawa and Iwa-chan

Dauntless forever

Alive

“I am only truly alive in fiction. My heart solely beats when I watch anime, my lungs exclusively breathe when I read books. In the fictional world, my soul soars with pure ecstasy I can never experience elsewhere.”

-Nora Ammar

Nostalgia

“What I wouldn't give to return to my childhood, to the world I loved and where I belonged. Nostalgia is by far my most frequent and intense emotion— a constant companion—, my memories are my most precious treasure, and my past is my happy place.”

-Nora Ammar

The Empath and the Misanthrope

“I am a misanthrope.

I am an empath.

This contradiction in my personality is not a conflict but a coexistence.”

-Nora Ammar

The Demon Inside You

It is deeply problematic, egotistical, and detrimental to call oneself “an angel.” When one does so, he/she completely loses her/his empathy. People who consider themselves angels develop a strong victim mentality that hampers their ability to exercise compassion and understanding. In every conflict, these individuals persistently see themselves as innocent sufferers and the other party as the guilty perpetrator. They are literally unable to perceive otherwise and are solely concerned with their personal distress. Incapable of and unwilling to put themselves in others’ shoes in an effort to grasp alternate points of view, they are blind to all perspectives but their own. In their eyes, they are constantly “good” and “right,” and everybody else is always “evil” and “wrong.” They cannot even fathom the possibility of being blameworthy. Contrary to what they believe, these people are not angels at all— they are self-pitying, arrogant, selfish, and self-righteous.  

None of us are angels. We are humans. Sometimes, we are kind, loyal, and generous. At other times, we are hostile, greedy, and treacherous. Hence, labels are dangerous and flawed. There are no “good” and “bad” people. That’s black-and-white thinking. There are only humans who act virtuously in certain situations and maliciously in others; there are simply people who make both deliberate and unintentional mistakes. There is a devil lurking inside every one of us, and being unaware of this demon is bound to torment those around us as well as our own selves.

Before we are quick to give ourselves the victim tag and judge others as malevolent, let’s stop for a moment and question our assumptions. Am I honestly the victim here? Am I the only one who’s been hurt? Is this person truly terrible? Is what they said or did genuinely cruel? Do they have different views, beliefs, values, and/or personality than mine that may justify their behavior? Might they be experiencing an adversity or dealing with circumstances that I’m unaware of? Is it simply natural for them to respond in this manner? What would I have done if I was in their position? Have I acted in an identical fashion when faced with a similar situation in the past? Am I being a hypocrite? Might this be a mere misunderstanding? Could this individual’s harm have been unintended? Is it really fair to hold them responsible? How might my words and actions have affected them? How would I feel if I was in their place and someone treated me the way I treated them? Could I be the one at fault? Can I forgive this fellow human being?

“Treat others the way you want to be treated.” It’s the Golden Rule we all learn and memorize by heart in elementary school, but how many of us actually abide by it as adults? Please; let’s stop with the self-pity and self-centeredness and begin to sympathize with others instead.

Shunned Hero

Stony scarlet eyes                                                  

Soft spirit in disguise

Veiled the vile lies

Anent the clan’s demise      
Traitor, they declare

Tell me why, I swear

Tears seeped there

From that cruel crimson stare

Shunned hero, gracious and great

Are you truly fine with this forlorn fate? 

Criminal who slayed

Anguished; dismayed

Exorbitant price paid

For peace to be made

Unseen honor; exposed disgrace

Tell me why, if guilty is his case

There’s an image I can’t erase

He died with a smile on that grim face

Shunned hero, gallant and great

Will you sleep soundly, swallowing this tragic fate?     

Inner warmth; outer wickedness

Concealed kindness; apparent coldness

Compelled to cast aside his conscience

Mission of ruthlessness

Bloodstained hands in the moonlight

Red as fierce as his glare of spite

Yet the true victim of that plight

Was the lonely silhouette in the gloomy night      
Shunned hero, glorious and great

Will you be at ease, accepting this heartrending fate?

Bloody clouds blotted the inky skies

Band of shadowy cloaks became allies

Dusk filled with the crows’ cries

As the sun set, never to rise

Down a path of desolation

Melancholy; damnation

Destination of devastation

Situation of no salvation

Shunned hero, was your mind set?

Certain this is a choice you won’t regret?      

Soul wept silently

Burden borne patiently

Wore a mask of pretend

Performed the act until the end

Mindful of the ramifications

No appreciation; no compensations

Forever abominated

Legacy tainted

Shunned hero, must you have done this?

Plunged into this bottomless abyss?

Forsaken for eternity

Truth effaced from history

Saved the village from affliction

Ensured a precious one’s protection

Who pursued him with vengeful intentions

Conscious of the cost yet followed through

As long as harmony would ensue

It didn’t matter whether they knew

Shunned hero, goodhearted and tender

My heart aches for your noble surrender

Like a strawberry poison-dart frog

Splash of red and black on a log

Infamous for being venomous

Cold-blooded and dangerous

But we utterly fail to notice

What’s hidden beneath the surface

This creature’s real beauty

Extreme care for its family

Benefits its home— small insects and plants

By eliminating predatory mites and ants

Remarkable hero, most extraordinary I’ve known

Carried the world’s weight on your own

May you now rest evermore

After successfully averting the war

Isn’t this what you suffered for?

I wish the outcome was worth the pain                         

I pray your sacrifice was not in vain

I will endlessly admire

That icy gaze of fire

Burned into my mind

Bittersweet memory— one of its kind

This is a story of butchery

That brought about amity

Tale of a dark dove

A hero to love

Haven in Heaven

Since a young age, I’ve had a feeling that I didn’t belong in this world. Something about this mundane reality just didn’t appeal to me. I couldn’t understand humans, mainly adults, and their dull, stressful lives and materialistic desires. I couldn’t grasp why people chase after meaningless wants like money and prestige and are even willing to harm others for the sake of attaining them. For that reason, I decided early on that I didn’t want to grow up and become a part of this superficial culture of adults. I decided that I preferred living in the jolly, carefree realm of childhood forever. Therefore, I became determined to not allow myself to transform into one of those greedy, impulse-driven creatures. Of course, maturation is inevitable, but I have indeed retained my childish, happy-go-lucky side, and I continue to perceive most adults as foreign and incomprehensible. Wealth, fame, romance, sex, alcohol, drugs, partying, and other worthless inclinations that most people spend a good portion of their lives seeking the pleasure of never have and never will interest me in the least bit. These shallow cravings provide me with no joy whatsoever. Even social life, with all its energy-draining drama, senseless gossiping, hours upon hours wasted on useless conversations and idle chatter, and gatherings that revolve around overspending and stuffing oneself with unhealthy junk, doesn’t satisfy me. I am far, far deeper than that.

I have always believed that out there must exist something grander for eccentric folks like me. There must be more to this universe than hollow lives led by short-term whims and wishes. Somewhere, there ought to be a place with greater profoundness, meaning, and splendor— an extraordinary world beyond this ordinary one. My heart has always sought a much more fascinating and enchanted domain. Thus I constantly hunted for exceptional stories of adventure and thrill and tales of unique, remarkable characters that touched my heart and stirred my emotions in awe-inspiring ways. I repeatedly indulged myself in other universes to escape this dreary reality. Most of my life was spent immersed in incredible worlds of fiction through books, anime, movies, and my own written narratives, in which I could find the enthralling, magical lands I longed for. Not to mention that I have always found the natural environment and animals far more tranquil and contenting than the obnoxious society of humans. Fiction and nature are two of the rare things on this Earth that give me true gratification and delight.

Lately, I’ve been pondering why God chose to shape my personality in this way, and I reckon that I finally have an answer. The realm my heart has been searching and yearning for all along is none other than Jannah (Paradise), a sanctuary that God promised encompasses unfathomable wonders beyond human imagination and where absolute elation and true peace exist. It strikes me as a merge between the beauty of the natural world and the fantasy of the anime world (except infinitely more astonishing and marvelous)— the perfect place for me. God gave me an innate desire for Jannah, and this is the greatest blessing. I couldn’t be more grateful that I’ve been mostly freed from the control of human urges and attachment to this worldly existence. I can’t imagine living an undisciplined life steered by temporary pleasures that have no ultimate significance.

I have found love in Allah and a home in Jannah. I know from the bottommost depths of my heart that this where I truly belong, hence why my soul will continuously call to it. Don’t get me wrong; I genuinely love life, as life too is a beautiful gift from God, and I have many ambitions to strive for and dreams to realize while I stride on this planet. But I have developed a sense of detachment from this Dunya, and deep inside me resides an eager anticipation for the day I depart and return to my beloved Master and His Paradise— my true eternal dwelling.

Inside Every Person You Know Is a Person You Don’t Know

One thing that really irks me is when I tell someone about a medical condition that I have/had, and they say things like, “You’re just imagining it” or, “Stop looking up your symptoms online and diagnosing yourself” or, “Are you sure?” Let me just make it clear that if I ever outright claim to have a certain condition, it means that I've been officially diagnosed. If I just suspect that I have something, I would say so; I wouldn’t say it as if it’s an undeniable fact. The reason why some people don't believe me when I talk about my experiences is because I've had a lot more hospital experience than the average person my age, and people seem to have a problem comprehending that. Well excuse me for being unique. When it comes to mental health especially, here's what people need to understand— I had frontal lobe epilepsy and a lesion near my left prefrontal cortex, and I had brain surgery to treat it. If you're familiar with neuroscience then you know what the frontal lobe, and specifically the prefrontal cortex, is responsible for. Most of your higher cognitive functions are controlled by this area, including attention, thought processing, emotion regulation, personality expression, problem solving, decision making, and some aspects of memory.

So what do you expect? You tell me how you think this has affected me. It literally screwed me up. I developed an attention deficit, mild forgetfulness, and emotional disturbances, to say the least. I can’t study, focus, think, or remember the way I used to before. I used to be the biggest math and science nerd in the world, and now I can barely do simple arithmetic in my head and I legit count on my fingers at times. I used to be a very practical and somewhat aloof person in the past, but I’ve become highly emotional and expressive, in a way that hinders me and makes people call me dramatic. So you need to realize how ridiculous you sound when you tell me that I'm diagnosing myself. You know what, maybe you're right and I never had epilepsy and just "imagined" the seizures that I had. Maybe I'm not quite so sure whether I actually had brain surgery. Maybe I don't actually have an attention deficit and just "diagnosed myself" and somehow prescribed ADHD medication for myself. Maybe my generalized anxiety disorder was all in my head and I dreamed the CBT sessions that I had.

Here's one thing you need to drill into your head: you don't know me. Period. You think you do, but I can guarantee that everything I've ever told you about myself or you've heard from somewhere or you’ve somehow figured out on your own is no more than 50% of who I am. There will always be more things that I'm hiding, and you'd be shocked to hear them. You didn't grow up with me, you didn't spend every second of your life with me, you don't know what I've been through, and you don't know what goes on inside my mind. You’re not an expert on my life, my experiences, and my thoughts. People are more complicated than you think, and you never truly know a person. So stop making assumptions and judgments about people when you don't (and never will) know their full story. It's honestly hilarious how people try to tell me that my struggles aren't real, when they don't have the slightest clue what those struggles even are. Just like I’ll never genuinely know how it feels like to experience your difficulties (and I don’t try to pretend that I do), you’ll never know how it feels like to experience mine. You don’t know the dread of losing control over your muscles and having them twitch and convulse involuntarily, or your eyes rolling up and losing your vision and all your sensations, or thinking that you're dying as you forcefully plummet into unconsciousness. You don’t know the post-surgery pain you suffer after having your scalp torn apart and skull cracked open and being immobile for a few days. You don’t know the frustration and exhaustion of persistent insomnia and consequent throbbing headaches. You don’t know the agony of having constant digestive issues since a very young age.

And I'm not complaining; I love my life and all the challenges that I face. I wholeheartedly embrace them, and if I had the choice to go back in time and never experience them, I wouldn’t do it. I’m fully aware that my hardships are nothing compared to the hardships of 90% of the people in the world. I admit that I’m a spoiled brat who lives in the wealth and under the protection of her parents, in a safe bubble of sunshine and rainbows, with no real responsibilities in life. But guess what? So are most of the people around me. Funny how some of these people trivialize my problems but then act as if their own are the most grave in the universe. At least I admit that I don’t yet know the adversities of the real world out there, and I'm grateful for my blessings and recognize that I'm one of the luckiest people on the planet and that most people have it far worse than I do. Trust me; no one knows gratitude the way I do. I always see the positive and bright side of things and compare myself to those who are less fortunate than me. Yet at the same time, I never belittle the concerns of other people like they do mine, even when they might seem silly or less serious than mine. So please, we need to have more empathy and acknowledge that there’s always more to a person than we think. Inside every person you know is a person you don’t know.