Rhys’s diary of literally random stuff

I’m honestly bored. I’ve been thinking a lot of about universities and I know it’s quite silly but I really wanna go to Yale. The place means so much honestly and it’s amazing for psychology as well. I just need an A in Algebra and also Chemistry. If I have As there than I’ll basically have a 4.13 and with the classes I have right now, that’s basically the maximum I can get.

I can’t sleep right now—I’ve been trying but it’s basically impossible. Probably isn’t a good idea to be on my phone either but I didn’t know what else to do. It’s like 11:28 and I should be asleep. I have class at 5:10 AM tomorrow for Quran and I didn’t even do my lesson for the 4 ayahs that I was supposed to memorize the word by word for. That means that I’ll have to wake up at like 4:00 AM and do it, which means that I’ll definitely be sleep deprived tomorrow.

On top of all of that, I have to study for AP world History. I have my test week on I think Wednesday or Thursday and it’s honestly a panic. I have to do unit 3 and 4 but she’s being generous since it’s just two units and only giving multiple choice questions, so I guess that’s good. I also have to study for AP environmental science which I’m taking outside of school. So I have to self study the whole course and I have to do unit 1 and 2 done by the end of this month since I got nothing done last month when I should’ve been doing stuff 😭😭😭

I can’t lie, I’m kinda stressed about all the work I have to do, but it’s gotta be manageable yknow. I hope so. I have to stop procrastinating my APs though. I hate this so much

@Rhysand323

I entered a writing competetion for a short story and wrote this. It's about a girl with thats a third culture kid, like me. 

  The sounds of the call to prayer echoed in my ears through the streets of Dhahran. The city felt warm, like the beach on a sunny day. It was bustling with people running about their day, and about everyone was friendly. Despite the fact I liked the city, I never felt at home. I could hear my classmates laughing in swirls of a language, Arabic, that I couldn't really understand or speak. I stood, alone on most days -- caught between two universes, the neighborhood I grew up in Dhahran, and the culture that I came from, India. "Where are you really from?" someone asked me once, their voice quiet, but heavy. I stood, my mouth opening and closing, unsure of the answer. When people asked me that, some part of me wished I could say that I was from Saudi, although that wasn't true, but I didn't feel any less Indian--or American either. 

    When I was 12, I went to India for the summer. The air was hot, my skin sweltering against the heat, as I stood on the train platform to go home. When I arrived at my grandparents house, my aunts and uncles stood in the large room that always smelled faintly of vanilla. "Why is your voice so American? You don't look anything like an Indian with how white your skin is" They'd laughed. My chest throbbed against the weight of their words. They said it so lightly, but they didn't realize how true it was or how deeply it hurt me. That was true, I had an American accent since I was born there, even though I was Indian, and lived in Saudi. 

    The next summer, I went to the US. My cousins were smart, brilliant, smarter than me at least. They were good at cooking, they knew all the good places in the city. My brain just kept wandering. That day, we went to the beach. 

  "Where am I really from?" I asked my cousin sister, looking up at her, my eyes wide. She chuckled, whilst staring at the ocean and looked down at me. 

  "Where do you think home is?" she asked me. I looked at her, my sweet cousin, and my mind...blanked. 

  "I..uhhh-" My cousin looked at me then, and smiled. 

  "You are from wherever you think you are. You're unique. You can choose your home, Sarah. Most people don't get to do that" 

  I thought about it then. She was right, wasn't she? I could choose my home. I stared into the vast ocean, my heart thumping with the rhythm of the ocean. My pulse accelerating. I looked up at my cousin then, and I felt something settle in my chest. My heart warmed by the sunset, settling in. Maybe home was my family. Maybe I was already home. 

Completely random, but I feel like people who are going through depression feel as if the whole world doesn't understand them--which is true, because when I was at the peak and height of mine, that's how I felt. Nobody understood me, nobody loved me, nobody cared about me, I was just this person nobody cared about, all by myself, and all alone. 

What I've come to realize though, is that, yes I can relate to depression, and to someone going through depression, but that person still wont feel as if I understand them. That's not because I genuinely don't understand, no I do, but it's the fact that depression is such a broad term. Their is a spectrum for depression and the experience of depression isn't the same for everyone--it's different. My depression was just me constantly drowning, suffocating, feeling tired, but that was physically. Mentally, I was in so much pain, and sometimes I feel that, I relapse. Emotionally, I would play the words over and over again: 
  - I'm crap 
  - I'm worthless 
 I would play in my head how I wasn't worthy of ever being loved by anyone, that I couldn't ever be loved by someone. That just wasn't me and that they would get tired of me and eventually leave, because why wouldn't they? Who would've wanted the sad and crying girl? The girl that was hurt and miserable all the time. Even now, just writing this down, it brings me to tears because the depression, sometimes I feel like its over, but other times, I still get panic attacks. Deep down, my fear is still the same: What if nobody can ever loves me? 

My mother once told me that nobody would ever be able to understand me, and that's always been something that just stuck with me because even as a little kid, I just never felt as if anyone would ever be able to understand me. I was senstitive, emotional, and I was just so hopeful, and maybe even a bit of a people pleaser, but no matter how hard I tried, nobody was happy. I was so extroverted and so social and than just shut down. My parents are obessesed with the 9 year old version of me, but I've grown. i have walls now and shields. I guess they don't like that. The only thing that sort of helped me out of being in that hole was my friend. She was amazing and she talked to me every single day. She was the only thing that would make me laugh and comfort me. She's amazing and I miss her every single day. I wish though, that she didn't have to move, but It was for the best honestly. She constantly reminded me, of Allah, of how he's with me, and sure, I admit, I'm definitely not the most perfect muslim. Sometimes I forget to pray, other times I just am not perfect honestly, but that kept me partially going. 

It's nice to hold onto religion when you don't have anything else. Some people don't have that. I do though and I've always considered it to be a blessing for me. Allah says in the Quran that the Quran is the rope that you hold onto to get out of the darkness, that it's the light, and honestly, I think it did really bring me out. Knowing that even though I may not get my justice now, I'll still get it in the hereafter, that Allah knows, it did fill me up with contentment. It's easy to slip back into that hole, it really is, but I'm trying to keep my head on my academics and just long enough to move out. When I move out, I can finally get proper help, I can go to therapy and do all the things I wish to do to get that help. I really want to go to therapy. I'm really tired of feeling as if I don't understand myself and it's annoying me. I really really really want to go, to better understand not just that, but also the cycle that I've been trapped in for so many years. 

I'm stressed honestly. I've been noticing this weird issue with myself where I get horrible stomach cramps for I'm not sure what reason, first thing in the morning. It happened again this morning and It didn't go away until I used the restroom. It was terribel though cuz I was in there for like 20 mintues, and I mean, I think I have IBS, because this will literally happen anytime, even though I didn't eat anything before hand. It especially happens in the morning though, which is why i'm so hesitant to eat in the morning. I'm scared that I'll be stuck in the restroom for like another 20 minutes. One time I had half a little bottle of chocolate milk last year in 9th grade, and I was in the bathroom for 40 minutes. That ones a more lactose issue though. I think I do have at least something though. EIther Lactose intolerance or IBS. I don't know but my mom thinks it might be because of stress. This morning might've been because I was so stressed last night about completeing everything and just like, I couldn't. I was os tired and exhausted and stressed thinking about my enviromental class, since i need to compelte 2 units in one month now since I didn't do anything last month. I was so lazy but dad payed like 900 sar for this exam, so I have to bring above a 3 on the test. No other option. 

The good news is that school has been canceled tomororw. It's because of the crown prince or something and how he's coming to visit the city or something, so they have all the roads blocked for him I guess. It's insane though, because I left school like 20 mintues earlier than usual, and my chemistry teacher didn't even question me leaving. He just said "okay go" which I was honestly shocked about. Like he didn't even ask to read any email or anything. Anyways, I have that AP world exam next week, and I have so much to study and I procrastinated the whole entire day today so I have to get the whole of the third section done tomorrow since I don't have any school. I mean I technically do, but it's virtual school, so it doesn't really count honestly. They'll probably give some kind of video to watch and just let us go. 

I should go to bed. I have class tomorrow at 5 AM and I didn't do my lesson again. I think I'll just wake up and do it at 4 AM though and do it. Than again, I said that last time and didn't end up doing it. I think I have a serious problem when It comes to procrastination honestly. You know, one thing that I really miss is like deep connection with someone. I miss that. My friend, the one that moved, we had an extremely deep connection, but now she's not here and I don't know what to do without her sometimes. She gave me a lot of motivation and encouraged me so much. I miss her so much sometimes. 

Growing up, my enviroment, even now, conditioned me to grow to become STRONG, to become tough. That's how I'm supposed to be, that's how I have to be. I don't ever view vulnerability as a weakness, especially when it's with someone I'm comfortable with. For me, personally, I feel like I can't be vulnerable in my own home at least. Just with that friend, just with my cousin. It's because I was never given a chance to show my weakness ever, and even when I did, I was mocked and scolded for. It hurt me, I cried every night, stayed up till 2 AM crying and breaking apart, hurting myself, feeling like ***, but I couldn't change my enviroment, and it was suffocating me. It hurt so dang bad, and knowing that I couldn't do anything about it, killed me the most. My parents don't believe in therapy, they think that I'll get some random diagnoses and they'll just put me on pills after labeling me as crazy. I never got that chance to get help, and because of that, I just had to become tough by myself, and it was hard and somedays I just avoid dealing with everything just so that I don't have to go through anything all over again. 

I started going to that class. My Quran class, and I learned about sadness. I learned about the prophets--Prophet Muhammed (SAW) lost his wife, the year he lost her, they named that year "The year of sadness". I learned about how strong he was, despite the fact that people were slandering his name, despite the fact that people were turning away from his message, calling him a liar, and mocking him behind his back.I learned about Prophet Yaqub (AS) and how when he found out his son had been lost, kidnapped, how he cried so much till eyes went blind. I learned about Prophet Ayyub (AS) and how all his kids died, and he lost all his wealth, and became extremely sick, and how the people made him leave, he cried and he was sad, but he stuck firm to Allah, and Allah helped him. I learned about Prophet Ibrahim (AS) and how his father rejected him, how the people tried to throw him into the fire. I learned about Prophet Nuh (AS) who preached for years, only for his own son to disobey him and die. I learned about Prophet Yunus (AS) who thought he had failed Allah. I learned about so many prophets, their hardships, and through that, I learned that my experiences, just like theirs was valid. 

Learning about their experiences, made me feel like as if my experiences were validated. Because despite how everyoen thinks that depression is such a taboo, even the most religious people, almost all of them, went through these hard ships in life, they went through depression, they cried and they cried, begging Allah to help them, and they did get better. Allah did help them, because they asked for guidance, and he never turns away a person who's asking for that guidance, for that light, for that source of light.