"How did it end up like this?"
This is the first post from my Mac, which finally found its way back into my arms after almost two months of not working. Chalk it up to a combination of laziness, unwilling drivers and sleep, but what matters is that I finally fixed it and while my bank account took a hit, things are a bit better now.
I'll be honest, the past two weeks have been nothing short of nerve-fraying. Between the end of Ramadan (don't even get me started on that), Eid (No, seriously, no comment on this either) and finishing up all the paperwork for my transfer, I'm just about done. I've grown tired of all the familiar voices, fuzzy faces and blah blah blah. You guys know how I usually go about complaining; using tired metaphors to express my rapidly decaying angst. You guys are smart, I'm sure you can do a better job than me at this point.
Since I lost everything on my Mac, I spent the day setting it up, customizing it and rebuilding my iTunes library. Now, after a very long day and even longer week, I'm find myself in bed. I'm tucked in, it's dark and I'm pounding away at this keyboard. I haven't done this since February, or March at the latest. I guess it's just amazing and frightening how much life has change in 12 short months. This time last year I was staving of anxiety attacks about KU. Emotionally and mentally, I was somewhere else entirely. I feel as though I've grown a lot, particularly in the last 6 months. That's the strange (even scary) thing; I'm reaching a stage where I have enough stability in my life to be able to look back at the past. I'm not entirely sure how to explain it, but I've just never spent three consecutive years living in the same continent, let alone the same tiny country. It's such a novel experience for me. I've begun to feel out of place among my friends. I have no reason to, and yet I do.
I wish I were leaving Kuwait for better reasons. I wish I didn't despise everything and everyone here. I'm a naive person in the sense I've always believed that no matter what you do, if the intent is good, then it's okay. So, leaving Kuwait and taking a big risk for all the wrong reasons is tainting what should be a joyous occasion for me. Does it make me a bad person? I don't know. Probably. Then I remember how many young women couldn't make it out of this cesspool and I feel even worse. Yes, I'm leaving for peace of mind but I'm also leaving to pursue a career that can help many in the future. Whether it's from the money I make, or the skills I acquire, I chose medical school because I feel as though I owe it to the universe. I'm in a social and financial position to pursue this career, and so I have. Studying English and maybe opening my own publishing house would have made me happy beyond words, but that would have been a selfish move on my part. I'm rambling, but I'm also emotionally drained, so forget eloquence. It just bothers me, the real reason I'm living. I feel like a failure because I couldn't make Kuwait "work" for me. I tried. I tried being open, and honest. I tried being kind and polite. Nothing worked. People here seem to be masochists. They enjoy being disrespected and treated like dirt.
Did I ever mention Jesus was my favorite prophet? Well, he is. I don't buy into any organized religion, but I've always felt he was the most approachable. Anyhow, I had both something else and more to say, but I'm sleepy now and so I'll bid you all a goodnight.
(Disregard how shitty my writing is right now.)
PS - This blog's email has been deleted, in case anyone sends anything. Step 1 of the goodbye.