Silence. It can be very loud at times, almost suffocating. Sometimes that same quiet that is just so peaceful and serene grabs you by throat and squeezes the breath out of you. And claws at your skin and silently seeps right through you, twisting its way beneath the surface. Then you're running around looking for the damn remote. It leaves an emptiness in the stomach, as if you're floating in nothingness. You know it is hurting but the numbness stops you feeling anything. And you wonder if this is really it. That you're meant to float. "Float like a butterfly. Sting like a bee," said Muhammad Ali. A loved one asks what your plans are. "To float," you hear yourself say. They look at you crazy. "That's bullshit, you're no floater!". But the world sometimes pushes you as if you are no more than a feather, weightless and without direction. You float where it takes you whether you like it or not.
This is an unedited text conversation I had with Rosaline at midnight. <3
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Title: Firework – Katy Perry
While waiting for my train home from uni a few weeks ago I sat down and watched the men with the long coats brushing their ears, suitcase in one hand and the Evening Standard in the other, the boys from school sprinting to buy some chips, the old lady rubbing her hands for warmth. People were running to catch their trains while others waited and planned their journey. It made me think. There are always many trains to choose from, but before you get on one, you gotta know where you wanna go. Same with life.
_________________________________
But lately her face seems slowly sinking,
“If the girl wants to learn, let her, my dear. Let the girl have an education.”
“Learn? Learn what, Mullah sahib?” Nana said sharply. “What is there to learn?” she snapped her eyes towards Mariam.
Mariam looked down at her hands.
“What’s the sense schooling a girl like you? It’s like shining a spittoon. And you’ll learn value in those schools. There is only one, only one skill a woman like you and me needs in life, and they don’t teach it in school. Look at me.”
“You should not speak like this to her, my child,” Mullah Faizaullah said.
“Look at me.”
Mariam did.
“Only one skill. And it’s this: tahamul. Endure.”
“Endure what, Nana?”
“Oh, don’t you fret about that,” Nana said. “There won’t be any shortage of things.”
[Hosseini, A Thousand Splendid Suns, 18]
~
Wasting. Crumbling like pastries.
Sarah stood in front of the mirror studying the angry bruises which decorated her face. She could hardly recognise herself from all that purple and blue business that was going on around her left eye and down her cheek. Her upper lip was swollen from his swinging punch. Her right ribs throbbed and she was could feel the bruises on her arms from where he had gripped her. Everything hurt. Even the slightest bit of movement couldn’t be done without her hissing in pain
But nothing compared to the ache which had settled in her heart.
Her gaze ran from her forehead in the mirror down to her lips. She couldn’t believe they were the same lips which had spoken words of love to him, who had now destroyed her in the worst way possible. Tears suddenly stung the back of her eyes, as the pain and helplessness rose rapidly in her throat like a raging forest fire and exploded. The tears, mixed with sorrow and agony, frustration and weakness escaped from her sore eyes like a waterfall.
It was the salt last night. It had started off with the salt. There was too much of it in the cooking. And then it was the remote control for the telly. The kids had misplaced it. And now here she was after another horrific sleepless night of souvenir and scars. She didn’t bother to wipe away the tears and wetness that gathered beneath her eyes, she let them flow like she always did. Through the mirror she saw the window in her room. It was tightly shut. Her mother had said she should stay.
“It’s your home. You have to stay. Try to understand. Where will you go? Think of the kids?” she had said the last time Sarah had gone to visit her. The words made her angry, yet she was convinced that this was another dark tunnel she had to walk through. Walk through alone. This was another trial God was testing her with because He loved her. And with patience and strength she was going to pass it. Wasn’t she? There was pain but what could she do? Just hope and pray that his temper would go away. Night after night, she would clutch her hands to her chest, desperately praying to God to let the next day pass in ease, and the next one and the next one.
“Mama, why are you crying?”
She suddenly jerked away and swung round. Everything made her flinch now. She hated it. She turned to her six year old son, who stood in the door staring up at her with huge eyes filled with concern and worry.
“I’m not crying, sweetheart. Come here,” she said, quickly sniffing and wiping away the tears. She bent down and held out her weak arms for him. He slowly walked over and entered her embrace, resting his head on her shoulder.
“Mama,”
“Hmm?”
“Why was…was Baba shouting?”
The innocent question made Sarah panic for a minute. She hesitated. Then gulped.
“He wasn’t very happy. But he will be now,”
“Why wasn’t Baba happy? Was it something we did? Did I do something wrong, mama?”
A fresh set of tears clogged her throat; she pressed her lips tightly together and squeezed her son closer to her chest.
~
And they scream. The worst things in life come free to us.
I have come across many women who struggle in their daily lives, whether it’s issue of domestic violence, unhappiness in a marriage or desperation for freedom. It’s a really sad state of affairs and each time I hear a story or witness the destruction of misery on a woman’s face, it leaves me with one big question.
Why do they stick around?
Because they can’t face the rest of the world with their sadness? Because they have become so accustomed to living like this that they treat it as normal? Despite all our advances and open minds we still live in a society where women suffer. And they believe that they have to suffer in silence, that this is a test of their patience. But who is forcing you to stick around? Is it the situation or is it you? Is it your mind set that stops you from reaching out and attaining what you thought was unattainable all along? I think for some women they actually believe that they must endure this suffering; whatever kind it is, because that is the way they must live. That’s life.
No it isn’t.
You can’t just hang around and wait for things to get better for you, because the truth is you’re going to be waiting forever and life doesn’t work that way. You need to stand up, push away the barriers, and wave goodbye to the pain and misery. Every day is not about a silent struggle and agonising acceptance; it’s about moving ahead, embracing yourself and believing that happiness resides inside you.
It is not an easy ride, but who said living was easy? It’s the giving up and hiding away that’s easy. Remember you don’t deserve this, no woman does.
By Smiley
http://twitter.com/Smiiiiiley_x
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Subtitles: A Team – Ed Sheeran
I stepped onto the conceited weighing scale, dreading the outcome. The cursor began to move as fast as my heart was racing. It should have stopped by now. The vacillating cursor found its place at a number. At that meticulous moment, my entire life changed. Countless thoughts circled my mind; they rapidly overcame me until looking at my own reflection became hazardous. I felt repulsive, I hated myself. Nothing was ever the same again.
*****
Every single ounce of my reality was directed towards being thin. It started with only skipping one meal a day in order to avoid suspicion, but it wasn’t working, I looked exactly the same. I decided to skip two meals, and gradually my body became accepting. I stopped getting hungry but I knew that I needed to stop eating altogether to make any sort of difference to my physique. Eventually the headaches became customary. The dizziness became my vision. The aching became habitual. My eyes began to sink into my skin like coins in water. My skin became pasty and lifeless. Tasks became futile. I could not walk up the stairs without getting out of breath. My smile became a façade.
Sometimes it wasn’t about being thin, it was about making myself feel good. The satisfaction of not eating for a whole day was blissful, knowing that I was losing weight, that I was making something happen, that I was in control of something. I began to live for that feeling. Everything around me was moving so fast, I was being dominated. I continued to starve myself, but it was never enough. I was not thin enough. I was not good enough. It became a living nightmare and a dangerous routine, until one day I collapsed in a clothes store beside my mother. Reality should have prevailed, I should have reformed myself, but my only concern was that she would know. My reflection should have notified me that I was beyond unhealthy; instead it screamed ‘FAT.’
I needed to eat, my body was desperate for food but my mind would not allow it. The two debated furiously. Eventually they came to an agreement; I could eat and then make myself sick. It seemed to work, what a genius idea. My bones were already aching from the lack of food. Making myself sick seemed to aggravate them further. The pain intensified, sometimes suffocating me to the point that I wanted to die. I would spend nights watching endless hours of television to distract me from the pain, to try and make myself feel better. The television gradually polluted my mind. The girls on the screen mocked me for my weight; they told me that I needed to look like them to be beautiful. I watched how the pretty girls at school had everybody’s attention and I gradually became a breathing corpse with no soul. What was wrong with me? I wanted people to like me, I wanted to be pretty.
People stopped caring. My best friend was preoccupied with her crush. She knew what I was going through, but she failed to realise that it was about more than wanting to be thin. It was about my perception of myself, my confidence and my self-worth. My parents failed to realise that I seemed to physically be disappearing. My skin became sheer elastic stretched over my bones, ready to subside at any second. I was ugly, the pages of the magazine said so. The girls on the billboards ridiculed me. My mind taunted me. I was drowning in my own clothes but I still did not look like them. I was lonely and afraid. Nobody in my life even cared enough to help me, a voice in my head kept reiterating that people wouldn’t even notice if I was gone. I loathed myself; I should have made it easier for everyone and disappeared. Suicide became a daily thought.
I lived in this malicious world for months and months. I had lost my place, I became insignificant. I watched the boys in my class become fixated with the girls on magazine covers. I wanted to be loved, I wanted to feel good. I would if I was thinner. Eventually it became a way of life; there was no other way to live, until one day I found myself on the floor in the kitchen. How did I get here? I was alone; the dizziness had overpowered what was left of my body. I had fallen and I couldn’t lift myself up.
I was in so much pain, my vision had become blurred and I couldn’t even lift my own limbs. What was I doing to myself? Something needed to change. It had become increasingly difficult to make myself sick, the pain was too powerful, it was as if my body had given up. I wanted to die. I was losing control of my body, it was slowly shutting down. I was trapped in my own delusion and I couldn’t see a way out. When I gathered enough strength to lift myself up, my first task was to keep food in my system. Eating had become a punishment; a horrible chore. I ate as if I was being asked to consume poison, but I furtively knew that it wasn’t going to reside in my system for very long. This time it needed to. It took every ounce of strength not to make myself throw up, I couldn’t do it.
I found myself crying at how weak I had become; I needed help. The next day I tried again but every single time I ate, my body wanted to throw it up. It was routine. Eventually I kept it down, but it took months to eat a whole meal without being sick straight afterwards. I had only participated in two P.E lessons in the entire year. I gave the teacher excuse after excuse until one day I finally revealed the truth. Saying it out aloud made it real.
I stopped talking to my best friend and started spending time with people that taught me how to enjoy life. I looked in the mirror everyday and told myself that I was good enough, that nobody could tell me any different. Gradually my life came together, but my best friend never understood. She stood amongst the people that will never understand, those people that label eating disorders as attention seeking, those that claim that it is for vanity purposes. It is simple for people to say these things about something they have and will hopefully never experience. It is horrifying and it is difficult to find a way out.
I sit here today, 6 years later, still affected by what I went through. Today I weighed myself; I watched the cursor move until it stopped. I sighed at the number and decided that I would skip the snack that I originally came downstairs for. Eating disorders are dangerous; a relapse can occur at any time. Even as a 21 year old, I still cannot cope with being called ‘fat.’ The sizes on clothes still possess the ability to affect my mood. I am a girl, living in a society that dictates the way that we should look. Plastic surgeries are becoming common because people are unhappy with themselves. We are encouraged to undergo procedures that will keep us looking young. New diets are advertised, weight-loss schemes, everything is directed at keeping us thin. The media tells us that we are not good enough, that there is always something more that we should be doing in order to improve our appearance. They dictate what is acceptable; they determine the definition of beauty. New cosmetics are promoted, manipulating us into believing that we should aspire to be perfect, that we are and never will be enough.
Eating disorders are a disease, not a fashion statement. They can kill.
By Special K
http://bringmeacupcake.blogspot.com/
https://twitter.com/likecherrypie
Elder abuse in the United States is a bigger problem than the majority of us know. It is a problem difficult to fully understand; it is a silent victim’s problem as many times the elderly are too scared to turn in their abusers. As a result, the government is unable to identify with certainty the size of the problem. What various governmental and non-profit sources do know is based on surveys and research of samples of senior citizens; these are the facts on elder abuse:
· Millions of senior citizens, an estimated 11 percent, suffer from some form of abuse every year.
· Senior citizens are more likely to know their abuser than not know him/her and not report the abuses they endure.
· Domestic elder abuse is believed to be unreported in 13 out of 14 cases.
· Financial exploitation is believed to go unreported for 24 out of 25 cases.
Women are especially prone to be victims of elder abuse. According to the National Center for Victims of Crime (NCVC), “Older women (67%) are far more likely than men (32%) to suffer from abuse….” And according to Adult Protective Services, the more advanced one’s age is, the higher risk said person will endure abuse. Age is not the only thing that puts elderly women more at risk however; one’s financial status is also a factor. A 2009 OWL International report stated the following:
Elderly women also face economic barriers. According to the U.S. Census, nearly one in five single, divorced or widowed women over the age of 65 is poor, and the risk of poverty for older women increases with age. Women ages 75 and up are over three times as likely to be living in poverty as men in the same age range. Their health care may be tied to their husbands’ employment, creating additional disincentives to leave abusive relationships.
Despite all of this, little has been done in regard to a wide-spread effort to educate people on women’s increased risk of elder abuse. And what is truly sad is that women physiologically have less physical strength than men, and thus are less capable of defending themselves against physical abuses.
Amber Paley is a writer who has devoted her life to educating the public about the problems of elder abuse in the United States. Though she does guest posts regularly, she also spends much of her time writing about nursing home abuse lawyers
Hi Readers,
Back in Late October, Nas proposed a series of articles to investigate why is it that society often mistreats and disrespects women, though they are our mothers, wives, and daughters. I think this is a great idea and hopefully will bear some good fruit that everybody can learn from. I had a few ideas of my own that I wanted to contribute to the discussion, so I reserved a spot on Nas' list, and well, here I am. I'd like to thank you all for the opportunity to speak my mind here.
I haven't read any of the other articles that Nas will post as of the time of this writing, but my guess is that most of the readers, including myself, will agree with their ideas and the conclusions that they reach. They will bring to light important moral problems that we must face as a society, and they will propose solutions to the problems. Everyone, including myself, will probably agree with them. This may not be the case for this article, as I anticipate a divided readership on my conclusion. I'd like to simply state in advance that there is no disrespect intended to anyone here.
There have been many excellent articles written on this blog and others that speak of the many injustices and immoralities that are subjected upon people, and women in particular. They range from the 'adult' material where women are objectified for the viewers to lust after, or in ordinary society where men and women 'check out' or talk about members of the opposite gender in indecent ways. Apart from the immorality of these actions in themselves, this leads people to a mentality where they judge others based on physical looks rather than their moral character. Just a few weeks ago, I was discussing home-schooling with one of my friends. During the conversation, he mentioned a girl he knew who was home-schooled from K-12, and he remarked to me that she was a loser. When I asked him why, I was taken aback when he declared it was because she did not shave her legs.
Most of us here agree that such behavior is immoral, and extremely disrespectful, to put it mildly. Even if the other person consents and is a willing participant to be thought of in such a manner, we understand that it is wrong to treat someone's daughter in such a way. It's my impression that most of us here believe this regardless of our religion or belief system. Some of us are Muslims, and so we believe that we are commanded to 'lower our gaze' to not disrespect someone and to keep our minds clean. Most readers here who are Christian, Jewish, non-religious, etc., probably believe generally the same thing for the same or similar reasons.
But what I disagree with is the idea that once two people are married, many of the rules of decency obeyed outside it suddenly disappear. I don't mean rape in marriage, or one or the other member being pressured to engage in behavior which they are not comfortable with it, which most everyone agrees is wrong. What I mean is that it is common belief that once two people are married, it is acceptable for them to engage in sexual behavior or thinking which outside of it is considered wrong. As an example, it is considered indecent and unacceptable to ogle at indecent pictures on the internet or at people who are walking by for one's own pleasure. However, within the bounds of marriage, it is perfectly acceptable for a husband and wife to view each other in such a manner. It is my conclusion that this behavior and thinking is just as wrong within marriage as it is outside it.
A husband and wife engage in intimate behavior for different reasons, and I want to clarify what exactly I believe is wrong. People do the intimate things they do, such as touch, look at, etc either out of love for the other person or out of some type of physical lust. I consider the latter to be the immoral one, but the former to be okay, and I'd like to explain why.
When a person looks at or thinks about indecent material on the internet or in other ways, we find this to be objectionable for a two particular reasons.
First, because it is disrespectful. This is exactly why, when people speak of the spread of pornography, they speak of the 'objectifying' of women. Women (and men as well), are not objects so that anyone can look at them to satisfy their desires. If someone were to suggest that they look at pornography or 'check out' women in a respectful way, we would say they were crazy. Respect and lust don't go together at all, in fact they are the opposites. This is apparent to us in our everyday life. Suppose a group of people are telling dirty jokes, and then a nun sits down beside them. Most people would instantly stop, because society still respects particular groups of people, such as nuns, as noble people. If we meet a person who we respect deeply due to their high character and morals, it makes no sense look at them with lust at the same time. If we were to do that, it would be a case of cognitive dissonance.
Yet, why should there be an exception carved out of this rule for two people who are married? We are supposed to respect the person we marry as the mother of our children (or father for the women). This is not a meaningless position. This person would deserve our respect more than almost any one else in the world, yet we participate with them in certain disrespectful ways that we don't with others. The fact that they consented, or wanted us to behave in such ways with them doesn't change the equation any more than it does with pornography. Actions speak louder than words. We can claim that we [will] respect our husband or wife, but if our actions don't show it, then the claims are meaningless.
I believe that most people deep down actually agree, even if they may not realize it. I recall watching one episode of Seinfeld, where one main character has a girlfriend who he deeply respects, as she is always charitable and helping anyone in need that she can find. The main character tells his friend that he cannot even imagine her doing or thinking about anything sexual, as she is so good. "No depravity!" he says of her. Now, if we asked the writer who wrote this episode if he thought it was disrespectful to look at the person you're married to, or in love with or whatever with lust, he would probably say it was all okay like most people, but he's already revealed how he really thinks deep down. I once saw a movie where Robert DeNiro played a mob boss who goes to see a psychologist. Now, this mob boss is married, but he has a girlfriend on the side. He is asked by the doctor why, and he replies that there are certain things he cannot do with his wife. When asked why not, he replies, "Hey, that's the mouth she kisses my kids goodnight with! What are you, crazy?" He recognizes that there are certain things he can't do with his wife because he respects her.
In fact I would guess that most couples have some line in the sand that they will not cross with their spouse, some particular behavior that they do not want to see them perform, just like in the example. But if want to be consistent, then we should not want to perform any such behaviors, or engage in any such thoughts, not just those beyond a certain arbitrary point. I don't believe moderation is a virtue, as it is a synonym for inconsistency. No one advocates moderation in murder, or child molestation. There is certainly a big difference between murdering millions of people like the Nazis did and just five or six. But difference is only a matter of degree, not a difference in kind, and the same argument applies here.
Second, we find such thoughts themselves to be vulgar or disgusting. When a wife doesn't want her husband to watch pornography, or to lower his gaze when looking at other women, the complaint she has is not simply one of jealousy. She is not only complaining that he is paying attention to other women and not to her, but that the actual thoughts that he's having about the other women are themselves filthy or un-clean. The complaint is that there is something actually vulgar or polluting about thinking about people in such a manner, and that it makes him less moral to do so. If this is the case, then surely it is also true if the two people are married. A husband looking at his wife to fulfil his physical desires is just the same as if he were looking at someone on the internet, and if one of those thoughts are unclean or disgusting, then surely the other is as well, as they are the same. I often read where it is encouraged for us to get married so that we can 'lower the gaze'. But this is not lowering the gaze at all, it is simply shifting if from looking at many different people to one particular person. To me this makes no more sense than if one were to advocate only watching pornography on the internet, so that one may 'lower the gaze', and stop having the desire to look at anyone outside the internet.
Marriage is obviously a complex thing, and when a married couple are together, they do not only interact with each other with physical lust as their intention, but out of love and many other emotions as well. This is certainly true, and it could be suggested that therefore there is something qualitatively different between watching pornography and interacting with one's husband or wife. But I believe that the same principles still apply. For example, suppose that a person gives charity, but gives it due to two different intentions simultaneously: to show off as well as out of concern for the poor. In this case, we would say that part of this action is right, and part of it is wrong. And the same thing would apply in our case. If a person performs an action both out of lust as well as love, then perhaps part of the action is right, and the other part is wrong. We can simply separate the two parts out.
In conclusion, I believe that striving to live a more clean and decent life is something that all of us here aspire to, and that it is a worthy goal which is well worth the extra effort. I believe that the worth of an individual is not the color of their skin, or their gender, or how attractive they are, but is determined by the content of their character. I believe that one particular determinant of our character is how we show respect to others, as well as to ourselves, by abstaining from indecent actions, and I've submitted a few ideas in this article to clarify. I mean no disrespect if you disagree, and I'm hoping to hear from the readers as to your opinions on the matter. Farewell.
By Dr. Squirrel
http://doctorysquirrel.tumblr.com/
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