Tuesday – 21 Zilhaj 1428 – 12 Pausa 1929 – 01 January 2008
The period of depression that started here is still in full swing. Too many questions have been playing in my mind.
Do I lead the life of my own choice and in doing so break away from my family? I believe if I choose my own life my family will eventually break away from me. And I can not loose my family.
Do I lead the life chosen by my family and in doing so spend a life incomplete? Over the past couple of years I have tried this and have realized that I can not keep myself happy if I do not get to live a life of my own desires and choosing.
There is no answer. And I continue to repeat the same thing over and over again. Like the overly cliched broken record. The past couple of months of my blogging about the same thing. Two options, and I can not decide which one. Each leading to pain and suffering. How futile everything is.
I have noticed that recently, over the past couple of months I have stopped making contact with other people. I dont like to go out with friends, or family. I like to keep alone. Life is becoming so miserably painful.
Please, for the love all that is good and beautiful, never force people to lead the lives that you want them to lead because it seems that they have accepted that but they are being eaten alive from inside.
I have stopped talking to friends about this because they feel sorry about it and I dont want them to feel bad or worry about things. I dont like sadness, I want them to be happy. I have stopped talking about this to people who I think are my friends because baring my soul to people who really dont care about what I am going through is pathetic. I can not talk to anyone in my family because they think that my wanting a life at odds with how people live here is extremely selfish and hurtful to them, I do not want to be dubbed any of those things. I have no one to talk to. I think I will eventually need to go to a shrink, if only so I can just go there and cry my heart out with someone who will pay attention but not get hurt.
I hate this. Life has become an increasingly painful experience. What I might love to call a تلخ جام in Urdu. A goblet of unbearably bitter wine. One must drink it, but it is unpleasant to the core.
And in the middle of this, I just want to go away, far far away. Just take my car and go to some far away land where I can live my life again. Alas, if only. And leading the life I am. I know I will be sad each and every moment of existence. And I will sad in retrospect at what I have been living. I hate this. Absolutely hate this.
موت جب زندگی سے بہتر تھی
ہم نے وہ وقت بھی گزارا ہے
And I just hate talking to my family about any of my problems now. I hate it. They always say the same thing. That I am being selfish and that I am being self centered and that they love me and want the best for me and I should do what they want. But I am not selfish and I dont hate them, I just want to be happy.
The ineffectual pursuit of my happiness. What a farce that is life.