بسم الله الرØمن الرØيم
اسلام عليكم ورØمة الله وبركاته
These past few days, I have been feeling particularly in blues and despaired. Since small, I wasn't the type of exactly pouring things out there whenever I feel anything. Everything I told was equally just a cover of a story book. More feelings remained untold and folded. My mother always say I am independent for my feelings and action since I was small even though I am the youngest and only daughter. And the more she mentioned it, more feelings and emotion remained curled and bundled only to myself.
I started opening up when I began to know my husband. I feel comfortable and at ease whenever I opened up to him. All those years of kept emotions flowed like a stream at the edge of a waterfall. It felt right, to tell him.
But this time...
There is no one to tell. No one listens. Lesser would understand.
I feel down and anxious. There are so many things to say but I'm voiceless. Voiceless for everything even for the most basic human needs. These voiceless incidents made me miss my days in Sheffield so much. I miss the freedom, to arrange and survive on my own. I was still voiceless then, but it was a nice one. It felt good to be voiceless on your own and at the same time there was no voice around too.
Maybe this is just an episode like so many other in my life previously. "This too shall pass".
Quarter-life crisis probably.
