On Trauma and Choice

As a practicing psychologist now, I am exposed to various settings that teach me a lot more than I’d anticipated. Not only do I mean perspectives that I gain from clients, but about self-growth and self-healing — I have come to understand so much about what shapes us (or how we choose to be shaped I suppose too). I’ve recently been blasted with more painstaking realities and heart aches that I am trying to navigate and it was only today that I reflected on my free will in all of it. Many of the painful ‘events’ were repeating themselves somehow with me, and I was almost given the fateful choice of how to feel with it all. I could let it eat at me like I did last time…I could let it go…I could process it and try to understand better coping mechanisms, or I suppose I could pretend to be alright with it all, as if the issues weren’t really that important or that if I paid less attention to them they’d somehow shrink into oblivion. Believe it or not, I think almost all these options are necessary for healing.

I reflected today how there might have been a small inkling within the traumatic experiences that I believe I chose to control — or to not let control me — because I just remembered how fucking awful it felt to be rattled with the terror of it all. I remembered that trauma wasn’t just pain in a sack, it was day and night in a fucking mental straightjacket of seemingly inescapable terrors and a crippling sensation that prevented me from moving forward, making choices, understanding another perspective or self-growth. And I used to love self-growth.

So in some small measurement, I believe our minds are able to calculate how much shit we want to handle and whether or not we want to allow our souls to be trapped in the asylums of trauma and grief. Don’t get me wrong, they are essential elements of perception and empathy and they are experiences that deserve to be felt and sat with. But perhaps I am so goddamn tired of feeling so beat, so afraid, so powerless that I’m choosing to realize that maybe the sources of my terror are also naked and afraid.

We do not choose how our emotions take control of us sometimes, but at some point I think we could. I don’t know if I sound insensitive or narrow minded…or maybe I want to believe we can because I am tired of feeling ‘controlled’. I am choosing to move forward despite the pain that is chasing me right now and I’ll let you know how far I’ll be able to go before I can’t go any further.

So far, my legs are still moving.

Peace is not from Us

I’m learning a lot about the grace of a bestowed patience and how it drapes over a person ever so gently, that perhaps he or she may believe they had always been this soothed. Or even worse, that they brought upon themselves the peace.

Yesterday, one of the most revered souls to me, one who has persistently and relentlessly changed the course of my intrusive thoughts, gnawing fears and probably fungal infestations (metaphorical) has shown me a broken side. I’m not sure what else to call it — it is just shattered pieces of shit events that have controlled his being. It’s like in those really intense cartoons when the protagonist gets hit by the villain’s serum or electric wiring and all of a sudden loses control of the morale and patience he’d been so good at up-keeping throughout the story. He’s gone and the characters and viewer all know it.

About a decade ago, I lived through a similar phenomenon, only it was the first time and I was closer to her so things went downhill much quicker for us. I get scared for my own life when I see people forgetting themselves like that…or when they circumvent so much and endure so much, then begin to feel lost as to where all the time had gone. I’m learning a lot about how patience was never procured from within them but bestowed upon them.

My old posts almost all included themes of patience, this year every ounce of attachment and love was tested and taken from me and it felt like I had never considered patience a day in my life. And so, I have begun to reflect on how much I believe I tried to acquire the security and serenity that came with ‘being okay’ and ‘acceptance’ but my inability to reach it had more to do with the blessing of ‘patience’ itself and less to do with my efforts.

Today, I am okay and I swear to you there is not a thing I had done to deserve the grace I am in. I pray it stays with me…at least until my new friend is in my arms. Rest assured if you are not patient today that eventually you could be.

How has your experience with patience been?

In and Out

I haven’t written on this page in almost two years. But I had some saved drafts…

I’m not sure what I want to describe. I found some old posts this past week and remembered just how pretentiously I used to write. I also remembered how much I loved it. There was so much pain and desire in all of it. Guess what, old younger Fatimah? You got everything you ever wanted. You got the perfect love, repose, bliss and peace. And then you lost it all over again. And I think all is going to be okay.

I fell in and out of love and perhaps still have a foot at the door. I’m rattled with the same confusion, angst and frustration that was there before I was loved and understood too. I got it all, perhaps didn’t thank Allah enough…but I got it all. In and out, up and down…it has just been a series of people and events getting broken and fixed for me. Even my health took a dive it never dared to before. Bedridden and almost obsolete, I don’t think my ‘life choices’ have been much in my control. A lot of things came out the way I really wanted them to, and then a lot of other things just slipped.

I believe I am okay…okay not knowing what tomorrow will bring. Okay repeating circles of events I know I hated. Okay remembering pain and smiling about it. Some days are easier than others. Maybe today is easier than yesterday. Maybe tomorrow will be easier than today.

I will await a miracle now. Just a beautiful, quite undeserved miracle that I will pray for because my Lord is more generous than I will ever know. I will wait to get all I wanted to get again…and maybe this time I’ll thank Him better, maybe that’s how it’ll stick.

Did you forget too?

I’ve asked myself these past few weeks

Whether hopes and dreams meant happy or happier

I still haven’t responded to myself

Mostly because my mind couldn’t be more crammed than a jammed copier

I think it’s fortuitous and perhaps it’s eventually grand

To be so busy you can’t ask yourself

Whether you’re cut out to build your own brand

But do we only work and grapple until we forget?

That at some point there was a hope that began a bet

That one day I’ll be this and I’ll be that

Let’s get to work then

Let me catch up on the righteousness track

Because to dream I guess is to be noble

To live beyond your existence

To hope your impact becomes global

But here I sit and type out fatigued little phrases

From a mind that wanted to remember why it began all these phases

Is it worth it now? Are your dreams equating “happy”?

Because I don’t even know

I’m so tired I forgot

I don’t even know

Good night then self, I’ll dream and hope you’ll remember tomorrow

My Skillshare Class!

Hi Everyone!

For the last few weeks, I’ve been working on my first class for Skillshare and today it’s officially live!

If you’re not familiar, Skillshare is an online learning community with thousands of classes on everything from business to graphic design to fashion – it’s the Netflix of learning. 

My class is on note taking skills you’ll actually use, where you’ll learn tips and tricks about how to take notes effectively from the academic realm to anything else! I’m proud of what I’ve created, and I’d really appreciate if you’d help me out by watching my class

By using this special link

https://www.skillshare.com/r/user/fatimahbadawy

to sign up for a Skillshare Premium Membership, not only will you be able to enroll in my class, but you’ll also gain access to all other classes on Skillshare starting with a two-week free trial.

Not only is this an awesome deal, but your enrollment will help my class trend on Skillshare, which means that more students will be able to discover it. 

If you know of anyone else that’d be interested to learn effective note taking skills, I’d appreciate if you’d share the link with them too.

Thanks so much!

The Future is Mud and Ice

There is a future that I fear,

I see it masking its opportunities in mud and thawed icicles

Waiting to be reached at or grabbed at just the same

I think it held its coolness for a while,

I think it was trying to assume repose

But the fever of great await sweat out of its pores

She melted her only preservation

And I guess prayed no one could see

I think no one noticed how she drowned her body in earth

Then rummaged through oceans for equanimity

I guess all she found were some ice sticks

And held them closely before they ran

But mud and water is not clarifying

And I saw the creature feigning repose

Perhaps I was the only one

But I shuddered at the auspicious sight

That she should be worth waiting for —

That finally reaching her was only right.

But all I feel is fear

I feel terror beyond my sight,

Because she is not what I will create…

We are both bombed against each other and asked to be patient and then fight.

This Whole Time

And it feels ongoing

To desire then wait

Then desire again, some more patience

You get it and sometimes you don’t, and the ticking of time moves as slowly as you continue to want

It was ongoing — seemingly relentless

That days hung on my shoulders and I forgot what I wanted

I was only moving forward

Get it done get it out of the way

Let time pass until that something you await

I would promise myself the second I took hold of desire X

I was to be golden

Untouched and satisfied

But the next desire advanced into the forefront

Demanding a presence or improvement

Like perhaps you could need an alteration

Or perhaps this was not your initial real desire

And so it feels tautological

And so it feels quite ongoing

To desire then wait — and hold nothing, not even time, to your own advantage

It is a cruel patience

One where you know not what you are waiting for — one where you only want “other”

Though not specified nor called for

Okay okay that is all well and said but —

But then there was her

Her

My baby

My beautiful precious little baby

And it is like the clocks stopped their ticking

And the earth slowed its orbiting

And it was just me and her

All too new but too familiar

Molding in and out of each other in an inexplicable attachment only felt not described

She was a piece of me

She was the piece I had been waiting for

She was a desire that needed “wait”

But in the incredulous moments of her arrival — in the surreal swirls of her turning a blush pink and breathing our oxygen

My world flashed

It was her — her — what I had been waiting for

Not for nine months… I think for twenty four years

You know when it is a calling?

I do not know, perhaps I still do not but it is like a calling

And it was her this whole time

I had been waiting

I have been waiting for you my whole life, baby

I have been waiting this whole time

اللهم احفظنا لبعض وارجعنا اليك وانت راضٍ عنا

Thin

There is a thin line between success and journey

You see, success

It is too autonomous for me to understand

No real reasons, no fighting, no experience

It just happens or it doesn’t.

But you see, then your journey —

It’s a long journey

It tells you it builds the highs

Scrapes them from the ground into little rounded pebbles ready for the projectile

But it is only shaping you —

You, as you walk, jump and crawl,

You, as you speak, whisper and scream

I decide who I am and how to be I suppose…

Success doesn’t know a thing about that

It maintains nonchalance as it passes by carelessly chosen souls — telling them they’re the lucky ones today

My life could have been this or that, different I suppose

But there remains a thin line between it all…my choices almost not mine

But ever so slightly in chosen repose.

Sure, today I gush open wounds on accident and they drop out of my mouth like waterfalls — I wish they didn’t, I wish I didn’t make choice A or B or any of it at all

I wish I could get out, be alone, not lonely, surrounded, noise-full and left all at once…

I do not know where I lie on the line

Am I in between? In a far end? Losing time or gaining wins?

Will it be worth it as my head lays in the dirt,

Stare at the sky, wish it were closer — but it is already way too close

I’m not sure if any of this makes sense but this perhaps may not be poetic —

I am walking, trembling, continuing on a journey…with a thin line and thin consequences

Too quickly and slowly everything seems to pass

Hold on, wait, I don’t know. Just rest.

This feature photo is my own photography. I found this random bush on a walk the other day and thought it was a very bizarre looking plant. Perhaps just as bizarre as a lot of my thoughts have been lately.

Okay

The past few weeks have not been eventful in the sense that physical events took place that shifted a lot of where I am and how I think, but they have been incredibly eventful with regards to more self actualizations — whatever that means. I’m not sure how I can describe those as events, but they are reflections, thoughts, conversations and then conclusions.

It’s scary when you are teaching yourself how to be okay again, because in theory you may forget self development or dismiss rectifying your own mistake at the cost of denigrating your heart into the depths of self doubt and shame and despondency again. It is like a thin rope you hold across your actions and judgments, whereby you wish to be wise but also to not let your body be stepped upon as it used to be. I don’t know what this thin line is to be honest… I am simply struggling with that balance.

My mind, so far, has weaned towards upholding my nascent love of self slithered with some swirls of sugar and pride. Perhaps somewhere, I am also just tired of the expansive self research it takes to fix a thing in the first place. I think I’m doing okay. I don’t know. I cannot be too sure, and it does not feel comfortable to let myself feel secure with the idea that I’ve reached self actualization… conversation is ongoing and I wish to continue to reflect until I am satisfied with my own autonomy.

Ah, yes. I wish I had a lot of that… I reckon I will achieve it quite soon with the mercy and grace of Allah.

Not sure why I used reckon back there… I’m not British, just in case you were wondering.

But mistakes are real anyways, and I suppose me engrossing myself in the understanding that I may continue to dabble in the mud of wrong only to climb out in tears that I wish to repent is a good sign, one that perhaps signifies a heart that wishes to elevate — out of this planet and into the skies that I see waving at me with way too much serenity. I glare at the skies too often these days, most of them wishing I was up with the stars hanging out amongst the clouds, carefree and light. But to all is a wisely decided and undoubtedly written end. Timely and precise. I shall go up when I shall.

For now, I think I’ll be okay.

Tired of Patience

I suppose it is not as beautiful anymore

When a worship as noble in stillness as it is in movement extends its wings

She is leaving me, but softly

So gently I might have not noticed she was here in the first place…

Behind her she has left blocks of lead

Heavy, dark, fatigued

There is stillness that remains

But it is a choking kind;

It wraps around the waist and neck weighing them onto the ground

Pebbles, the blocks crumble into

And my heart does not know a patience it thought it had

But they told me it is liberating, enthralling, nascent in a hope once found before

I can’t find it anywhere and my face is wet

Uncertainly of confounded tears and sweat

I am not waiting anymore I do not know how

I am tired

I am so tired

How does she return? How might she find you once more?

To remove the crumbles she left behind and pat me on the shoulder

With a smile,

“Your miracle is on its way,” she would say

“What’s a minute of waiting?”