Eid is a time of happiness and celebration. Me, I’m sitting here feeling emotional, frustrated and sad. So sad.
How do I even begin… I’ve stopped blogging lately because it would have meant writing about things that are difficult to express. And it would have meant exposing the horrible behaviour portrayed by those who claim to care. I’ve kept certain aspects of my life private even though it was those things which made my illness so so much worse. The stress caused more flare ups than I could handle. No more. I’m done. I need to vent and this, for now, is my outlet. I only ask that you don’t judge me too harshly.
So all those blog posts about IBD and rants about people… it’s been a few years of posting. Throughout it all I was also dealing with domestic abuse. It was mostly psychological and at times physical. Just after diagnosis in 2010 the physical abuse was the worst. The psychological abuse continued up until I left home in 2016. It’s been to date, one of the most difficult decisions I’ve ever made. Yet I couldn’t see any other option. I tried. God knows I tried. Every suggestion I made was shot down. It was made clear that my only option was to remain in my parents’ home, probably until I die.
You see… when someone is smashing crockery and leaving it for people to walk over, knowing full well that there’s a partially sighted person in the house, it gets a bit too much to handle. When heavy objects are thrown and narrowly miss you by centimetres, it gets a bit too much. When there’s a dent in the wall where a glass of milk was thrown because food wasn’t ready in time, it gets too much. When there’s constant yelling which causes panic attacks daily, it’s too much. When you’re expected to wait and wait and wait for a lift because you’re a woman and you’re not allowed to drive… it gets too much. When you’re treated differently because of your gender, it gets too bloody much.
The worst thing is that they use Islam to justify it. How DARE they. I cannot understand nor explain how anyone can take the beautiful example of our beloved Prophet ﷺ and tarnish the name of Islam in this way. The Prophet ﷺ taught us that daughters are a mercy. That paradise is gained upon serving your mother. That a wife completes half her husband’s religion. In his last sermon, the Prophet ﷺ ordered men to be good to women.
I’ve been to visit family a few times since I left. Each time left me feeling emotional, sad, angry, depressed and anxious. Without fail. I visited out of a sense of duty to my parents. To try and keep good relations. I’m wondering now why I bothered.
With Eid being tomorrow, the emotional blackmail has started again. I’m disobedient. I refuse to follow Islam. I have no respect for my parents. Etc etc. And I’m past the point of caring. I’m spending Eid alone, which is hard enough as it is. However it’s much better than visiting family and putting up with the crap that’ll be thrown at me. The guilt tripping is wearing me down so I feel better off here, in my own home.
It would be wonderful to spend time with my cousins but that comes with a hefty price. I’m not prepared to pay that price. My wonderful cousin even sent me an Eid gift because I won’t be with them. It made me so emotional.
I don’t even know what I’m going to do tomorrow. I feel crap. Ramadhan has been an emotional rollercoaster. I moved into my new flat (yay!) which is exciting but there’s such a lot to do. The estate agents for the old place are being a pain in the butt. I miss my family so much. I wish things were better but I have no idea how to make that happen. I can’t go back like they’re telling me to. I just can’t. So I guess I’ll just carry on as I am, hoping and praying for a solution. Crying. I keep reminding myself though that this is still better than the situation I was in two years ago. It doesn’t seem to soothe my heart though.
Eid Mubarak all.