Its OK Not To Be OK - What Goes Unseen

If you could describe yourself in three words, what would they be? If you got anxious and felt your palms immediately start perspiring, then you might understand and relate to what I’m about to say. I hate this question the way I hate Ketchup (sorry, yes, I despise Ketchup)– that might sound like an exaggeration but it’s not. The question makes me stunned and confused, and it always leaves me wondering what the best way to answer is.

I don’t want to go into the full internal monologue that takes over my brain because we truly will be here for a very, very long time. A snippet, if you will, of the thoughts that possess me every time I am asked to describe myself.

“Ok, Smart? But is that too conceited? Ok, patient – but I get frustrated too? Kind. What type of person calls themselves kind though? Ok, so I settle on Meticulous. (But I know that this is also just another way to say bossy and particular.)”

In essence, I don’t get to win this battle with myself. I am never truly satisfied with what I say or how I look or how I act. Nothing is really good enough and that is what I have struggled with my entire life.

As you can see, I’m not entirely comfortable praising myself or characterizing myself as something I am not. This issue stems from a lot of things and I’m going to be a bit more vulnerable today than I am characteristically used to.

This Ramadan is different for me, I have had a lot of personal obstacles come up this past year and I have realized, with some help, that I struggle to process my emotions and my thoughts. I am my own worst critic and I criticize myself before I’ve even had the chance to make a mistake.

There are a lot of words in this world and yet, I’m struggling to explain myself. Describing myself means I am limiting myself. It means that I’m not capable of being more. I feel weak. I feel small. I feel – useless.

I never realized how bad this train of thought was until I finally had to say it all out loud. I experienced something traumatic recently that I’m not ready to divulge, but since then, I have struggled with feelings of safety and my sense of self.

So I have learned that in my entire twenty-three years of living, I have not properly processed my emotions or discussed my qualms with the people around me. I had support the entire time but I felt weak for using it.

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As a child, I had no such problem. My family called me CNN – I couldn’t keep my mouth shut and I wanted to learn everything and tell everyone. This became an issue very quickly in a Middle Eastern household.

I would often share family secrets or repeat phrases I shouldn’t have. So after the umpteenth time, I learned it was best not to talk sometimes, especially if it could be seen as taboo or was private.

I carried this notion and this practice with me every day.

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So jumping to today, I am sitting in my apartment, recovering from a dental surgery that turned me into a green square. (Other names were Spongebob, She-Hulk, Steve from Minecraft, and of course, Chipmunk) I have been forced to sit and do nothing except reflect, ponder, and of course, criticize.

I found myself sitting in pain and so nauseous I couldn’t stand, and I was sobbing because I couldn’t cook myself a meal. I felt broken and weak and small. Again.

I have been feeling this way for some time and it’s been difficult to express myself.

As you can see, my sense of self has been threatened for a long time and this stems from my childhood to who I am today. I was bullied for being overweight as a child. I have experienced trauma as a teenager and as a young woman. My family has experienced some hardships these past few years. I have become a caretaker to a teenager.

And in these 23 years, I did it in silence. Not because my family or friends weren’t supportive, but because I felt like a burden to them. They had enough going on in their lives without me adding to their struggles. Even now, typing this out, I am so scared that sharing my experience with all of you, will change how I am seen.

What inspired me to write this piece was a TikTok by @18hens, a lawyer struggling with depression, showing what her life is like. That she isn’t always put together, she struggled with her appearance and self-care, and she had to make it work. She went to work with a messy bun and a T-shirt because that’s all she could muster.

I have never related to something more. I felt relieved. I felt like I took a breath for the first time in a really long time.

I wasn’t alone in this feeling and I’m sure that there are people out there that need that relief too.

It made me think of the moment I quit my job for these same very reasons, and someone said “I had no idea. You seemed completely fine, you were doing so well.”

That’s the reality of an internal struggle – no one sees you struggle but yet, you feel like the world is watching you fail every day.

Life is hard. The world is terrible. People suck. But we don’t get to choose what happens to us all the time. I don’t have control over how people see me and I certainly can’t control what people do or say.

What I can control, however, is myself. I can control it with lots of practice and LOTS of crying. I can control how I see myself and the world around me. I can relearn how to love myself the way I did as a child.

Gifted Child Burnout. High Functioning Depression. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. High Functioning Anxiety. Poly-Cystic Ovary Syndrome.

Those are all three-word phrases that describe me in ways that no one can see. It’s the same way that social media only really shows the good parts of people’s lives and we all feel bad for not looking our best and feeling happy all the time.

A lot has happened this past year, yes, but hopefully, a lot more is going to happen too.

I pray that the future ahead is filled with joy, laughter, and bliss. I know that there will be rough patches and I will constantly be battling with myself – I will witness tragedy and experience pain. Pandora’s box let out all the evil and ugly but it also let out one other thing, hope.

So I hope that this helps someone else feel like they’re not alone. I hope that we can all be kinder to each other and ourselves.

It’s ok not to be ok sometimes. If you need a reminder, I’m here to remind you.

With love,

Alia