Birthday with Family

Today, I turned 34.

My husband barely acknowledged me today. Once was to tell me my cousins were here. Which was by saying , “You’ve got guests to entertain.”.  And later when I wanted to know why two of the kids were still NOT in bed.

Mon Dieu.

My step-daughter gave me two paranormal/romance/mystery books. One of my daughters and aunt and 3 cousins went out with me to Red Robin. The clapping blinded me and made my eyes act funny, hehe

It has left me like the same overly shy girl I was when I was 4 and 5, lol.

So I had a family dinner. I got to vent to my grandma a bit about my husband. My grandma sympathizes with me and how he is. Its nice. Sometimes she’s the only one who thinks I’m a good wife and mother. It helps.

I didn’t get birthday sex. Or a birthday hug. No birthday anything from HIM. But at least I got a nice family dinner. My husband sucks but I’m very grateful to Allah that I have family that will celebrate it with me and makes me feel special, even though I’m getting older. Letting mommy-me have a couple of special moment. If not for them, I would feel lost and have worse self esteem than I do now.

So grateful for them.

 

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Back to the Beginning …..

So, somehow I got it in my head about my husband denying cheating, and claiming that he no longer did it.

Last weekend I was weak, I was yearning to be held soooooo badly. And I went upstairs to try and lay in his bed. It always ends up with him not touching me; him treating me like I’m a leper.

………And I lost my nerve.

I can’t even count how many times he has rejected me and ignored me. It all rolls together, blurry like a fog. But the feeling, is NOT foggy. It’s soooo overwhelming.

I was beginning to think that I am the problem. That I need to try harder. And then after my husband was angry driving through the snow after picking me up from Walmart, I found a torn condom wrapper in the garage.

Before, when I confronted my husband about condoms so many years ago, he says they were for me.

Hahahahahahaha

My husband KNOWS I hate condoms. I hate them with a passion.

And now I realize that I am completely gas lighted. It has completely messed me up. I know that gas lighting has changed my mind too much. I know it. But I don’t know how to undo it.

NO clue what so ever.

So now I’m back to the beginning. I cringe when he walks through the door. I hate this new anxiety.

Hoping for a better New Year!!!

This year has really sucked. It has been hard. I will not even lie, in just too many ways to count. I am hoping for a much better year. I

I am hoping to get my health under control.

I am hoping to get into better shape.

I am hoping to get a little bit better at intermittent fasting.

I am hoping to lose weight.

I am hoping to my children continue to mature and become loving people.

But ……. I am not so sure that I am hoping for a better marriage. On one hand, I’m not sure there’s anything to really hope for. On another hand, every time he acts nice during a religious or an intellectual conversation. And there I fill up with false hope only to feel bad when he ignores me later and spends the night elsewhere. And because he is the man, I’m not allowed to ask where he’s gone or going.

He’s said that more than once, as crazy as that sounds.

And to set the New Year’s off even more, I’m sick and my husband isn’t here. I’ve never ever spent a New Year’s with him doing anything.My husband discussed with me why mixed kids (like me and our kids) are confused. That because we grow up with multiple cultures, multiple identities that we can’t thrive for very long without a mental break, or whatever. That we are confused and aren’t loyal to any side of their identity.

It makes me sad. I cried. It didn’t make me feel much better afterwards. So I’ll just go on ahead and try for my own New Years.

Progress NOT perfection.

 

Internalizing my rage

Earlier today my husband was trying to talk to me about something and I asked him about it after I prayed my morning prayers. I should have known better. Grrrrrrrrr.

The topic went from one thing to another and eventually landed on female circumcision. Yeah………he doesn’t think it’s abusive or evil or harmful to women whatsoever.

And he thinks I’m making blasphemy because certain Islamic personalities from over 2,000 years ago did it.

He could have said that we can look at it Islamically, historically, culturally and then personally. But he didn’t. He thought I was vulgar because I asked him how taking a knife to my PRINCESS PARTS (hint, hint, NOT the word I actually used) wasn’t evil.

He laughed at me and told me to stop.

Somehow, some way I was able to NOT express all my fave and anger at him. It would have ended up with me kicked out and in the mental ward.

So instead I filled myself with anger and rage. I cried in the bathroom and bit my fingers to cool my rage and pain.

I HATE being laughed at. I HATE him and I wish he was dead. I HATE having to depend on him.

So I target myself for my rage and I don’t know what to do.

I feel less than nothing compared to him. He is So look religious that he can’t have a real marriage with me. Then he acts like I’m a melodramatic liar when I mention all his cheating.

I can’t win either way.

So I’m researching the topic at hand for future reference.

Winter Blues

Right now I am sick. I’m not sure quite WHAT I have and I can’t lay down just yet. I have to pray, make lunch, have to be awake to receive a present for my son, etc.

oh boy.

I won’t be able to rest until much later.

It started with a sore throat and body aches and ear pain. Now I’m tired, with stuffy nose, runny nose, still have body aches,  among other things.

It’s hard to be sick and be such a caretaker because all you need is rest, but its hard to get rest in. Go figure.

Before this, I had made my kids a crapload of muffins. Only the double chocolate muffins actually rose and everyone loves them for dessert. SOOOOO yummy. Dark chocolate nom nom nom.

And I am feeling down. I don’t even celebrate Christmas, even though more and more Christmas is in my house because of my kids. Which is fine. I’m cool with it. Even without celebrating it, I’m feeling overwhelmed by all the holiday energy and anxiety or whatever. Its got a very “je ne sais pas” quality that I just can’t quite describe.

So maybe it’s just winter burnout or something.

But on the other hand, I am trying to get back to doing a tiny bit of Islamic studies everyday. Right now I’m reading and writing notes from a Shi’a book called Nahjul Balargha. It’s a book of compiled sayings, sermons and letters, written by the first Shi’a Imam, ‘Ali (A.S.) , also the wife of Fatimah (A.S.), also cousin and son-in-law to the Prophet Muhammad (S.A.W.S.). It’s not complete, as it was compiled by a human, but its a very good book. So much wisdom and eloquence in it. So beyond my intellect, so it’s hard for me. Its going to take a while for me, lol.

And also, I will try to create better Friday habits. God willing. Friday is the most special day. It’s also the day of Imam Mahdi (the last Imam, and the one that will establish Justice upon the earth for all humans, in the end of time, and when he comes out of occultation). So that’s something new I’m learning.  A new habit to learn, which is good. Not having goals is NEVER a good place to be.

I have to inspire myself to be a better person. I’m a babygirl without a Daddy to encourage and inspire me to be the best version of myself. So I’m trying.

Progress not perfection.

How Narcissistic Abuse Survivors Are Unitentionally Shamed — Free From Toxic

How Narcissistic Abuse Survivors Are Unintentionally Shamed I’m a believer in the popular “we attract what we are” philosophy, but so often it is used in a way that often becomes unintentionally shaming, and in my opinion- false. For instance, think of how people have told you that if you’ve attracted a negative event or…

This is truly beautiful. It makes so much sense for me. I know I haven been silenced many times under the mantra of “at least he doesn’t beat you” or “at least he stayed married to you” not realizing that you ARE his favorite chew toy.

Embarassment

This morning I was feeling proud of myself for getting 2 of my kids bathed all by 10-ish in the morning. Then I just end up bawling, like a wimp, on the toilet of all places. It wouldn’t stop until it stopped. No rhyme or reason.

I can never quite predict my random cries. It felt better when I was done, but it’s so random and I can’t quite get over it.

Later, this afternoon my husband completely embarrassed me in front of his oldest daughter. He told her that I was in a crowed of black people, and that I confused a black hair salon for a salon for hair that has black color to it.

Well the story isn’t even correct. I wasn’t around black people, I got confused as I was calling up places for a hair salon in college.  But the story, that wasn’t true, was funnier to him. It makes me sound racist and ignorant. My husband doesn’t realize how mean and racist it makes him. But he didn’t care. He didn’t care that it was a lie. He didn’t care that I told him not to tell, etc.

It doesn’t help that my step-daughter won’t accept that I’m half-white and half-arab. She won’t accept it. She says I’m just a white woman. She refuses to accept all of my identity ~ erasing a big part of who I am.

And it’s mind-boggling because she talks about how hard it is for her to be black, even though she has lived a much more privileged and pampered life than I ever have. I’ve had to experience sooooooo much more prejudice being Arab and Muslim. She can NOT even comprehend. Just because I am light-skinned.

Its soooo frustrating.

It’s obvious to me that I can NOT trust my husband. EVERY time I thought that the littlest religious conversation was us bonding and getting closer – haha – oh no.

Not again. I know its going to be hard but I am going to try to not engage him. Not indulge that feeling that we might be getting closer. Nope. Nope. Nope.

From now on I’m going to do my religious, my spiritual, my emotional, my mental and sexual reflections on here. To put it down on cyber paper, it cleanses my heart and my mind. Instead of falling into false hope over and over and over again.

At least a rose with thorns has beauty. This is not that. This is like stepping on prickly thorns with your bare feet. It is not fun. So ……… from now on I think I’ll be posting a lot more often. My reflections on all matter.

But on another not, at least I have Mr.Cuddles. He nurtures the little/middle/ddlg part of me (babygirl). Which really helps because the pain I have in life, hurts my babygirl part even more (for future, I refer to my babygirl self as Little Rose).

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December Update

I had a good couple of religious months of mourning. Lots of learning, lots of reflection. It was good. So much to learn and work on. Its still hard with a spouse who only talks to you for religious discussions, but I managed somehow.

Now its December. It crazy. Holidays and lights. Right now I’m trying to remind myself to get more sleep because I don’t think I’ll make any progress, until I accept that my body needs more sleep, and give it the rest that it needs.

I have NOT been doing that lately. ughhhh.

So I’m going to try it again. Get more sleep. Listen to my body. Even if I just want to stay up all night lols. Get enough sleep. Do intermittent fasting for 12-15 hours (thats my sweet spot). Exercise but not everyday so I don’t get burned out.

I’ve realized i get too burned out too easily because I don’t give myself enough nurturing and some self-care.

Getting Better ….. slowly

So I was sick for 4 weeks. I experienced almost all the symptoms. And I still have a lingering cough. Le sigh. It probably doesn’t help that I’m forgetting to use my inhaler as much as I should.

So …… I am slowly getting back into working out. I was out of shape before I got sick. So for now, I’m sticking to pretty toned down workouts. Like less than 20 minutes hehe. NOT including the warm up and stretching, of course.

I’m feeling super wimpy but I have to remember how much more energy I need for the kids as well.

So that’s about it. I also need to get back on the wagon with my blood type diet and my intermittent fasting.

Name Changes

So recently I found some Shi’a women to talk to. Online, in various places. It’s nice because there’s no such thing over here where I live. I’m a bit isolated.

And she talked to me about changing my daughter’s name. I never even thought about it.

In my sect, it’s the name of a opressor. So I asked my daughter if she’d like another name. And she did. I didn’t realise it had actually bothered her so much.

My husband and her step-sister don’t want it to be changed. Oh boy. I told her that I’d have it changed next year. Her new name is going to be Zahra Ruquayah. Their names of very precious and pious women. She’s even better behaved. yay.

And she calls me Zainab. She’s the only one that calls me that for now. But I like it. Named after a pious woman who refused to break. I wish to be more like that.