#TGIF: The mental juggle lately

 

One night I woke up from a bad dream. A nightmare, I would say. In that dream I was on my way to the airport with my sister Dyna when I realized I forgot to pack a lot of important items. Like a warm outerwear when it’s going to be late fall/early winter where I’m heading and I forgot to exchange money for expenses, and apparently, my Visa was also not approved yet. I woke up panicked, and thankful that I was still in my room, and not living a nightmare at the airport. 

The thing is, I am really travelling soon, and I am unready. That dream was a reminder that I should start packing and preparing, but also the reflection of my quiet anxieties of travelling. Apparently, not too quiet since it managed to creep into my dream. I hate to admit this, but despite me showing my brave side, I am very much afraid. This place is a place I’ve never been to, using a language I don’t speak, in a climate I am not used to. It’s not a baseless fear. But other people do this all the time, don’t they? 

I went to a friend’s wedding last weekend, it was probably one of the best weddings I’ve ever been to. That aside, being around familiar faces brought back memories from 2020, when the world was in the thick of COVID-19. These were the same people who had kept me sane during the pandemic. We bonded pre-quarantine, but became a hell lot closer while in quarantine — entirely virtually. We spent countless evenings and Friday nights video calling each other, playing games and chatting. We got to know each other’s secrets, pains and fears. They were the first people I’ve ever shared my traumas with. People who were just colleagues turned into friends. Actual good friends.

Post quarantine, we made trips together — Melaka, Penang, Terengganu. We somehow survived the ultimate friendship test: travelling together. No lives were lost nor harmed, thankfully. Now, five years later, though the frequency of face time has significantly reduced since we no longer work together, I still feel the same about this bunch. One friend once said — from the outside looking in — this bunch is my found family. And as cliche as it sounds, it truly feels like that.

This past few days I thought about feeling FOMO. I used to have chronic FOMO. I think about feeling insecure and wanting to make friends. Being a pathological people pleaser, I tend to say “yes” to anything. Even when I’m tired or not feeling it, I would agree. Because disagreeing makes me feel like a difficult person. But growing older makes me protect myself so much more. I still tend to please people, yes but I do that much less now. I am okay with saying “maybe next time” “not tonight, I'm tired" because all I want to do is go home.

I also don’t get offended anymore if I’m not invited. Some seats aren’t meant for you, and that’s okay. I have learned to know that when I am not invited or included, it’s often not personal. I used to feel unworthy or unlikeable when I was not invited. And that’s my own insecurities talking. Early 20s were tough, trying to form strong loving relationship with myself. I’ve battled many and insecurities, often invisible to others. It’s deep-rooted, and takes time to heal. But learning myself has been the most rewarding part of adulthood. 

I love socializing, I really do, but not all the time. I realized, I have started to choose which conversations I would want to engage with. I may love hanging out with you and talking to you, but there will be days I don’t feel like doing any of that. Most times it does not have anything to do with the person, but rather the substance of conversation itself. If it does not concern me, or if it will drain my energy, i would rather not get myself involved. I know I may end up protecting my peace too much, but at this age, that’s literally what i need. I appreciate people, experiences and conversations that add to me, not drain me.

What a tiring work week. I am grateful to be tired and drained from a job that pays my bills but am I close to retiring age yet?

#TGIF: etched between pages

You scribbled in my notebook once,
leaving a mark that forever etched itself
between the pages of my life.

Now I flip through other notebooks,
searching for any trace of existence, of remembrance—
knowing it will never happen again.
Not with you,
not with anyone who passes through.

Still, my muscles, bones, mind, and soul
keep wishing—quietly, stubbornly—
that one day,
I’ll find a familiar scribble again,

on a fresh page, a couple of years down.
But this time, it won’t burn—
it will feel like coming home.

- AZ

#TGIF: what happens when i'm happy?

Writer’s block can happen -- especially when there are deadlines to follow. I keep a strict schedule of posting every Friday, so I often need new ideas fast. But sometimes, the words just don’t flow.

At this point, I’d like to consider myself a writer -- self-proclaimed, yes. Writing has become part of my DNA. I love putting my feelings into words; it helps me regulate my emotions and discover myself along the way. Though most of what I write are personal reflections, I do hope people find comfort in them, that they see parts of themselves through my thoughts. Honestly, I can’t imagine not writing.

I once read that to be a good writer, you must read widely and deeply. I take that as my lifelong homework. To always read, relate, and learn. Writing isn’t as effortless as people might think. It’s rarely just a brain dump. It’s often planned, outlined, and intentionally crafted -- though nine times out of ten, it’s also emotionally woven.

Lately, though, I’ve felt stuck. Uninspired, even. I can write, but the words don’t feel as deep. They skim the surface -- safe, shallow, unrooted. I’ve gone back and forth, starting drafts I never finish because none of them feel right, or good enough, or at least appropriate to share.

It upsets me sometimes. Is this why writers keep ten drafts ready, just to pull one out when inspiration runs dry?

I’ve realized I write best when I’m most vulnerable -- when I’m in the thick of sadness, grief, or immense joy. But I’m not always in those extremes. So what happens when I’m somewhere in between?

#TGIF: What truly matters

This is probably one of the hardest weeks for me when it comes to writing. I couldn’t bring myself to write about anything else this week. Not when the world is showing me what truly matters. Let me walk you through my thought process this week;

1. It’s 10.10 week, so naturally, the campaigns and sales were all I think about. I was locked in.
2. In my content plan, this week’s #TGIF post was supposed to be about Umrah again. But then I thought — it’s too soon after the last one. I need to space it out a little.
3. Then I considered writing about books, but I just did that last week too.
4. Above all, there’s a bigger issue that deserves real estate in this space — something that has been taking up a lot of my attention lately: the Sumud Flotilla mission, and more broadly, Gaza. Why would I even bother writing about anything else — things that, in comparison, feel so small — when I feel this responsibility (self-imposed, but still) to keep talking about it?

As someone who is very emotional and in tune with my feelings, last Thursday was a rough day. When the news broke about the fleets being intercepted, I was in a full-day training but found myself tearing up randomly throughout. I wasn’t sad, necessarily because I knew they expected this. There have been several Freedom Flotilla attempts since 2010, none of which have succeeded — they knew what they were going into.

I cried out of pride. I was deeply moved by their bravery. Can you imagine being there? It’s a kind of sacrifice most of us will never be capable of. But they volunteered to be on that boat, fully aware of the risks, all to make the world talk again — to make noise.

It shouldn’t take another Freedom Flotilla to remind us to keep talking, to keep demanding an end to the occupation, but here we are. The boats may not enter Gaza, but the mission succeeded in its own way. Everyone started sharing, posting, demonstrating, demanding, reposting, not just here in Malaysia but everywhere in the world. It's heartwarming to see how united we are, globally, all in the name of peace.

Yesterday, a ceasefire agreement was announce. From the track record, it may not be long, they may violate that agreement, again. But for now we will let Palestinians celebrate and pray it will be permanent. They deserve a peaceful, safe life like us, too. Let's keep boycotting to our best effort, keep demanding, keep praying. It's only over when Palestinians tell us it's over.

#TGIF: Everything I've read this year so far

With books, I have found new love beyond romance genre. Since last year, I have started to explore genres like contemporary fiction and historical fiction. It was partly because I was heavily influenced by BookTok recommendations, but mainly also because I do want to branch out to romance fiction. I got tired of the same storyline every time. I wanted more, I wanted my reading experience to be more diverse.

This year though, I started to indulge myself in some biography, started with I'm Glad My Mom Died and I thought, okay this is actually interesting. To have a view into someone else's life and this person is a real human being, not some fictional character. It helps that I actually know Jennette McCurdy from the many hours spent watching iCarly and Sam & Cat growing up. 

Then, because I was preparing for Umrah, I explored Islamic books. I wanted to feed my mind and consume content that I can benefit from. Books that will actually help me and give me a bit more insights for the journey I was about to embark. I was so glad I read Biografi Muhammad bin Abdullah before landing in Madinah because I was able to experience Madinah from a different lens, having a better appreciation after knowing the importance of each historical landmarks. Since, I found Islamic books real interesting that I read a couple more after that. I've also started to buy more too (they are so much cheaper, too!).

I still read romance though, more so to take me out of a slump as romance fiction is easier and faster to get through as apposed to any other genres. So here's the list of books I've read so far, in order from January till now:

1. Cleopatra and Frankenstein by Coco Mellors
2. More Days at the Morisaki Bookshop by Satoshi Yagisawa
3. And The Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini
4. I Who Have Never Known Men by Jacqueline Harpman
5. Same Time Next Year by Tessa Bailey
6. Chase Me (Broke and Beautiful series) by Tessa Bailey
7. Need Me (Broke and Beautiful series) by Tessa Bailey
8. Make Me (Broke and Beautiful series) by Tessa Bailey
9. The Housemaid's Secrets by Frieda McFadden
10. Part of Your World by Abby Jimenez
11. Hopeless by Elsie Silver
12. The Wedding People by Alison Espach
13. I'm Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy
14. Biografi Muhammad bin Abdullah by Zulkifli Mohd Yusoff & Noor Naemah Abd Rahman
15. Tuhan, Seindah Apa di Hujung Sana? by Hafizul Faiz
16. The Beauty of Promised Rizq by Ayesha Syahira
17. Yours Truly by Abby Jimenez
18. Befriending The Quran by Ayesha Syahira
19. The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah

I have a goal of 35 books, I don't think it's a lot at all, but now that we're in October and I still have about 15 books I have to read to hit, I am not so sure I can do it. I took quite a long break during Ramadan and Raya, I usually don't read during Ramadan anyways but even during Raya month, I was not in the mood. That pushed me back by 2 months. 

We'll see how many will I end up reading by December, for now I will just enjoy reading without putting too much pressure to hit the 35 books reading goal. What have you been reading?