Stuck

I keep promising myself that I'll write more.

Unfortunately, every time I think about writing I feel stuck.

A lot has been happening lately that leads me to believe this year won't be so great.

But I need to have some faith that things will get better.

Today I pray for Egypt.


And I am thankful for my small family.

On Being Blank

The past few months have been a challenge. I'm struggling to deal with the ups and downs of being a mother. I love my daughter more than anything, but I've been diagnosed with post-partum depression and I'm trying to deal as best as I can.

Although one in ten women suffers from post-partum depression, it's not really something that's discussed widely in the Arab world. Instead, I'm told to 'pray' through it. Seeing a therapist and taking medication is frowned upon because it insinuates that I'm crazy.

I've been seeing a therapist for 3 months now. I've adjusted the medication dose several times and it seems to be working.
But no medication lacks side effects unfortunately.

I'm zoned out, lethargic, and just plain numb.

I'm dealing with very low self esteem issues due to the fact that I'm unable to lose the pregnancy weight (side-effect of the sleeping pills).

I think the worst part is the fact that I believe I can't do anything right. I half-ass everything. Well, I guess the best way to clarify this is I just am not really good at doing anything really well. An example? I can cook, but I'm not the best cook. I can make movies, but I'm not the best at making movies. I'm a friend, but I'm not a best friend. I'm a mom, but I'm not the best mom.

I've been really hard on myself.

And I know it's unreasonable to think that I can be the best at anything, but I just feel like I don't have the patience or desire to even work on it.

Which makes it very difficult to be a mother to a beautiful 7 month old baby.

I can only look forward to things getting better. And even though it's very difficult for me to get up in the mornings I'm making the effort to take the baby steps. Today I spent a couple of hours just playing with my baby, and I updated my blog. Maybe tomorrow I'll take a shower.

Yeah. It's that bad.

The Moment

We've been having trouble sleeping.

This past week, Sofia has been screaming bloody murder for hours. She doesn't want my breast, the bottle, or her pacifier. I thought it might be colic or reflux but it isn't. I finally concluded that she's tired but is just too stubborn to sleep.

Like mother, like daughter.

Anyway, this goes on for hours.

Last night I was feeling exhausted. I caught some kind of throat bug and was praying she could sleep.

Nope.

Scream


By 5 am, I had tried everything to get her to sleep. Walking, rocking, pushing her in her pram, singing, cuddling, etc.
I finally just picked her up and put her on my lap and had her facing to the left. She stopped crying, looked around for a bit, turned to face me, and once the light caught my face we made eye contact. All of a sudden her face went soft.

She recognized me.

She then gave me the most wonderful smile, and as I smiled back my eyes flooded with tears.

There really is a satisfaction I can't explain when your baby smiles at you. And I'm not afraid to admit it.

She went back to crying when she realized I was still gonna try to put her to sleep, but that moment made the next hour more bearable.

Motherhood really is all its chalked up to be. For me anyway.

PPD

I've tried so many times to write an entry. I stop and reread what I wrote and think its total shit.

I can't sleep. I can't relax. It's driving me crazy.


How do I stop the anxiety and panic attacks? Why is it that every time I put my head down and try to get some rest all I can think about is all the bad things that can happen to my baby? Why is it that no one prepared me for this?

These ain't no baby blues.


There's no one to talk to about this. It's a complete loneliness no one can understand but a new mother going through ppd.

My case is mild though.

It's like a friend of mine once said, "If you're going through hell, keep walking."

It will all be ok.

Ultrasounds Lie

I'm still pregnant.

I've never been more bloated in my entire life. For the past couple of days I've been jumping into our pool in the afternoons just to cool off. And by jumping I mean waddling in. The great thing about having this mini pool is the fact that I can do all my squats and not feel a thing. Gravity can be a bitch when you're carrying around an extra 26 kilos. That's right. You heard me. 26. That would put me at a grand total of 88 kilos. And for those of you who are all WTF, I'll just tell you to look down at the picture of my 38 week belly and realize that all my weight gain has been just that - belly. So fuck you if you think it's too much weight to gain, and fuck you for thinking you know what's best for my body. I'm pretty convinced it'll all melt off a few months after I deliver.

Oh yeah, and the hormones get worse towards the end. Almost as bad as the first trimester. Almost.

I've gotten so sick of people staring at me that the other day I was standing with my husband at the mall and yelled real loud about how staring at my belly is rude and disrespectful. Needless to say all the Arabs staring at me immediately looked away. I'm telling you, it makes me feel naked. A naked, 88 kilo, full-term pregnant woman? Not a pretty sight.

Yesterday I went to this education day celebration Bahrain throws to honor its citizens who received higher education degrees. Since my husband has his masters in law, and his brother has a Phd in electrical engineering, it was a family affair. The point of this isn't to show off that I married smart, the point is: I don't fit into my maternity clothes anymore. The clothes that are XL in maternity. That's how bloated I am. My feet were so swollen, it was ridiculous. Someone stick a fork in me - I'm done. Plus, maybe the fork will help diffuse some of this fluid retention.

Please please send me positive thoughts. I need to pop this baby out soon. I don't think I can wait till past this weekend. I had a nightmare, yes a nightmare, that I was pregnant past my original due date and had to be induced. My original due date is in 9 days.

I lost my mucous plug yesterday. It looks like a bunch of snot tinged with blood. It's basically the 'plug' that lines the cervix. I know. TMI. It means labor is 'imminent' - then again women can go weeks after losing their plugs without labor. Watch, I'm gonna be that woman.

Alright, enough complaining. I didn't think I'd get this far, but I will take a 39 week pregnant picture and post it up soon.

On Being Obsessed

So for the past few days I've been kind of obsessed with Julia Child.
This of course is thanks to the movie Julie & Julia, which I love, love, loved.

I've been getting very little sleep lately. A friend of mine told me it's my body's way of getting ready for baby. It kind of makes sense cause I only get about 2 hours of sleep every few hours. Anyway, in today's morning haze I decided I was going to make one of Child's recipes I had come across here


So I drove my pregnant self to the grocery store this morning to pick up a couple of ingredients I was missing. And I got very tired after about, oh, 20 minutes of waddling. I was appalled to see how expensive cherries are (about $10 a pound). So yeah, fuck that. I ended up buying a frozen bag of mixed berries instead.

Its pretty. See?



I'm kind of a disaster when it comes to baking, especially dessert. For instance, I decided a tablespoon is actually a teaspoon of vanilla. And I forgot to sprinkle sugar on top of the berries, so I ended up sprinkling it on top of the whole thing. Ooopssiieess.

Anyway, I also kinda thought the mixture was too watery:




This is what it looked like half-way through, when I added the berries and the mixture:



It looks like maybe the batter isn't enough to cover the strawberries



Then again, I'm new at this whole making dessert thing.


Anyway, I'll let you know how it turns out.

Thinking

I miss the days when I used to write on a regular basis.

Those were the days when I used to spend hours drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes, and working on my short movies.
Those were also the days when I used to cook for my friends every single day, because I loved it.


It's hard to think it's been 4 years since I've been able to feel that content.

The past few months have been difficult. If you haven't already noticed, I've been a little busy making a little human being. My first trimester was HARD, complete with unbelievable morning sickness and an almost miscarriage. Things are much better these days.




I've taken an unpaid vacation from work for the rest of the calendar year, and am moving countries yet again at the end of this week. I'm looking forward to two months of sleeping in, cooking, and just being creative. I'm looking forward to getting my life ready for this unbelievable change that's going to come. I didn't plan the pregnancy, but now that baby oops is half-way cooked, life can't get any better.

It also doesn't hurt that I'm getting the fuck outta here.

This is what that feels like to me (in Houston, circa June 2009):

Ashton?

I’ve gotta give myself some props here. I held off on the rage for almost a month. Honest.

That last entry I wrote wasn’t fueled by rage. It was fueled by a different kind of passion I can’t describe.

But when you work with some of the idiots I work with, well, I don’t really know how to finish that sentence.


Let’s take ‘cheater’ as an example.

If you guessed that he cheats on his wife during work hours and goes on coffee dates at the SAME VENUE where we’re working on our events (while his wife is pregnant with baby # 2) then you’re a fucking genius.

This is a man who told an Italian woman, in her native language, during a business meeting that he’d like to take her to bed. It was his way of showing off that he’d been to Italy and knows a few broken phrases. Her horrified facial expression told me something was very wrong. She politely told him that it’s not appropriate to say that kind of thing, and that what he said to her in broken Italian is the equivalent of “vous le vous couche avec moi” in French. I guess he thought she was flirting with him cause he took her cell phone number, invited her out to parties, and told her he was single.

Of course I took the first opportunity to casually mention to her that he just welcomed a new baby girl. He denied it to her later.


Then there’s the assistant that has made me her new bff and will spend all day in my office chatting with me if I gave her the chance. I don’t mind the chatting so much, but it seems our friendship has taken a strange turn somewhere along the line.

You be the judge: Do you think it’s appropriate for her to tell me that her vagina’s too loose after having babies cause the doctors didn’t stitch her up well? And that she wants to get surgery to fix it cause her husband doesn’t enjoy sex, even though it doesn’t make a difference to her?

It’s moments like these that I wonder if I’m being punked.

"Absurdity"

For the past hour I've been going through an interesting scenario in my head. I picture myself walking into my boss's office and telling him that I don't want to be here anymore and have decided to take all of my vacation days starting Sunday. That would be 2 months off, paid. I figure it's either that or I turn in my 30-day notice now.

I decided to take a break and read the newspaper.

Gemini:

You may be sensitive to the point of absurdity. Offer consolation, but don't give them any direction. Don't let your emotion interfere with your efficiency.

The only thing I understood from that was the first sentence.

I need a vacation.

Hello Vertigo

I'm starting to get the feeling my body's trying to tell me something.

This morning I opened my eyes and was overwhelmed with the weirdest sensation. The room was spinning. I wasn't too concerned cause I figured it's another hypoglycemia attack, but when I checked my blood sugar levels the results were normal. I decided to give it some time but it didn't get any better. Stupidly enough I drove to work, and then my boss offered to drive me home and yelled at me for putting myself in a stupid/dangerous situation. Bless him.

Last week I had crazy food poisoning the day I got back from India. That was my 4th trip there and first case of viral diarrhea (sorry). A few days before I left to India I came down with a crazy 2-day flu.

So yeah, my body is indirectly telling me to change my life. I think.

I've been trying so hard to convince myself that this whole marriage thing isn't stressing me out. And I'm one of those people who believes the things they make up in their head - especially when it's a total lie. Isn't there a medical term for that? Did I just hear you say the crazies? That's what I thought.

Heather suggested I turn in my 30-day notice today. I have to admit how tempting it is. I just received my annual bonus, which means I don't have to worry about condo installments for 5 months. I figure I need to take a month of just doing nothing but lazing by a pool and reading and sleeping in and eating healthy and making cupcakes.

We'll see what happens.

Thinking

I am getting married in a little over 48 hours.

Let me repeat that. I am getting married in 2 days.

How do I feel?

To be honest I don't feel anything. I'm not sure what to expect so I just stopped thinking about it. I don't even have anything to wear. This woman I work with stared at me in disbelief when she heard that. "You're getting married in 3 days and you have nothing to wear?"

So what?

There are moments where I feel I'm being drenched in ice water. Because I'm supposed to be scared and freaking out and bla bla bla. But I'm not. The wedding's not till October 30th so I figure I can freak out then. But the beauty of it is that I won't freak out then either. Cause it'll be a big party where I get to wear a ridiculously huge dress and dance in it.

And I love this man I am going to marry.

He has become my best friend.

Yesterday I had a pretty bad work day. Long story short: this is a man's world and it sucks to be a woman (in the Middle East) working in it. In addition to that, I snuck off for a few minutes with my 2 secretaries to try on dresses for the abovementioned marriage, and one of the dresses fell to the floor and I stood there with nothing but lime green panties infront of the secretaries and the saleswoman. That was followed by a tiff with a local woman when I called her driver a worthless man with no respect for honking 17 times in my ear. Followed by a screaming match with my father about having his brother at the paper signing this weekend.

Naturally I'm not the most pleasant person to talk to when all this drama happens, but the man I'm marrying didn't care. He talked to me throughout the day, asked me to explain everything in detail for him, laughed when he was supposed to, and completely sided with me even when I was being unreasonable.

I love him.


These are the things that matter to me.

And even though this week has been pretty rough, and I'm kind of indifferent about the paper work this weekend, I am happy to know that there is someone out there who loves and supports the crazy that happens in my head every so often.

Insight

As strange as it sounds, a lot of my relationships have been redefined since last October.

Call it an epiphany, but I see people differently. Perhaps my friend Tanya is right: It's not that people change, they just become more of who they are.

Sometimes that just fucking sucks.

Wise Words

"Austin is the equivalent of curling up in a fetal position and getting away from everything..it will always be there for u."

Yup. Engaged.

Who, me?

I suppose I should tell you a little about myself.

I am a dreamer.
I spend a lot of time in a different state of mind – which helps my non-existent acting career.
I am also an actress. It’s just the way it was supposed to be. I was born into a family of actors and celebrities. This might justify why I always feel my life is some sort of movie – it would make a good one too.



I’m emotional, but you’ll never see it.
I’m sarcastic…sometimes even funny. A lot of times I can be brutal.
I’m a social butterfly. I love to laugh and be happy. There are times where I love myself, and times where I am self-destructive.



I’m spontaneous. Not in the “ooohh, let’s go crazy and camp in the desert tonight” way. But in the “Today I’m quitting my job and moving to the other side of the world” way.



I want to do everything, and be everyone. And I probably have (in my mind).

I’m border-line crazy. It keeps my life interesting.




I had a stalker for a few years. He’s been laying low lately, partly because he doesn’t realize that I now live on the other side of the world.



I’ve had my heart broken, and I have broken hearts. And no matter how many emotional shutdowns I’ve had, deep down I’m a sucker for love. But I won’t tell you that. Instead, I’ll just make fun of the situation, because it’s the only way I can deal with it. The truth is, it would be nice to be with someone I can stand still with for a little while.





I suffer from an identity crisis. I was born into a race I can’t relate to, even though I speak the language. My parents come from 2 completely different backgrounds, which has contributed to my confusion. Naturally, I spend a lot of time trying to figure out where I fit in this mess.

An Update

“Nothing else in the world…not all the armies…is so powerful as an idea whose time has come.” Victor Hugo

Over the past three months I’ve done some sporadic writing.

As I traveled through various airports, these are the thoughts that went through my head:

July 10th, 2007:

If you had told me one week ago about the events that were going to happen, I would have laughed at you.

“You made the right choice. You chose to be happy. I’m happy for you.”

There are temporary moments of panic when I wonder if what I did was stupid. I doubt myself.

But I know my time had finally come.

16 hours ago I stood on a bus that took me to a plane. I held onto the rail and leaned my forehead against the glass.

Movement. Fatigue. Large windows. Passengers. Sadness.

Last Thursday, July 5th, I submitted my resignation.
Today, July 10th, I am halfway home (Austin, Texas).

I still can’t believe it. I still can’t believe I had the courage to just turn my back and walk away from all of it.

My decision to go back to Texas is the most logical thing for me to do. Austin is home, no matter who says what. And when I feel comfortable I will be able to think. For the first time in my life I have the choice to make a choice that’s right for ME. Do you have any idea how alien and scary that is? And do you know how liberated I finally feel?

None of it has sunk in. I’ve got no plans – just an aim to take a stab at that thing they call freedom.

Boston Logan International Airport:

I met a wonderful woman in her nineties today. We chatted briefly and when she asked if Texas was home I told her my “story.”

She smiled at me.

As I was leaving to catch my flight I wished her all the best.

She turned and said to me, “I wish you well in all of your life. And remember to always say a little prayer. It works, you know.”