A message to the world

Is it easy getting up knowing that this world is full of people who lie and wear masks so they can hide the pain which they keeped bottled up? Is it easy knowing that every day that someone you know is going to die at some point and no matter what you do, that will happen regardless? Is it easy to watch a person crying on the train, or walking down the road without offering them a tissue and a kind word? Is it easy to know that humanity is flawed and no matter how much you don’t want it to be perfect, it wont?

I often wonder whats going to happen tomorrow, and if I can make it through the next day. I wait for phonecalls which don’t come, and then the emails which wont appear. Tear up the photos and then tear up the happy memories. I’ve got books with happy memories, and I’ve got emails. But the past, and the pain keeps creeping back, and the past is never quite the same, or the present. I’m no profound person, but someone hurting inside waiting for others to change and to realise that the world is not as simple as they think. I wonder how many of the world who see my face every day can notice that I am crying inside, waiting for someone to just hold me. I wonder every day whether someone will actually say: ‘Come and sit down, here’s a cup of tea. Let me look after you for one minute.’  But it never happens.

Sometimes I wonder if the world is just full of need and grabbing, and the desire to just make money and be happy within yourself, and if you are lucky to possess them, friends and family. Sometimes I wonder if everything that the good and the kind do is all in vain because they will reach a blocked wall, preventing them reach those they care about. I wonder.

I ask of you world whether you can actually sit down and chat to those people, and answer to those who cannot ask for help. I wish you could all see the sadness inside them, and give them that cup of tea, or at least give them a chance to talk. I give you that challenge.

Sighs and bereavement

Esther died 6 months ago tomorrow. Esther if you didn’t know her had a heart of gold, I’d known her since I was 11. She passed away due to cancer. She passed away after fighting cancer for many months, and more struggles since she was younger. She was brave, beautiful, generous and always a light in the darkness. She always remembered the good in people and always wanted to bring it out. She was there for me when no one else was, when the world had fallen around my ears and eyes. She never left me.

Esther went on her gap year to the states doing work which would help others, went on anti war marches in Washington but ended coming back to London in pain. This pain later on highlighted the cancer. She fought for months, more bravely that anyone could have. I saw her, her speech fragile and broken, her cut hair which was growing back after all the chemo. She was fighting. She was going to go to uni and become a speech and language therapist. She was going to do what she could to make the world smile.

When Esther passed away I cried for a while but then remembered she would no longer be in pain. I wanted her to live more than  anything but life isn’t simple. But she is now away from the pain in this world, the pain she wanted to heal. I can remember her smile when we used to watch the simpsons and lord of the rings, or something like that and she would never stop. It was beautiful. I just wish I could have seen it one more time. I wish…

I miss her every day, her ideas, her voice, her way of thought. She always had hope. I’m trying to keep going with her hope. I hope she can see me because I love her. Its so unfair she was taken away so young. But, she changed so many lives in such a beautiful way.
Lots of love to Esther’s family and friends if they see this but more to Esther, a girl who was voted the most memorable person at her 6th form prom. Esther, we will never forget you. You are always in our minds.

Woopie… uni times.

Right, I paid £3,125 (well borrowed) this year from student loans only to discover I got 6 hours in my first semester and now shock horror I have 7. I’m not feeling the financial benifits here… I know I have access to the library and I should read around 5-10 books a week and do preparation but surely, more classes anyone. I don’t want to pay £20 per class. Its awful.

And they still give me 9.00 on a Monday morning, well at least David has it too. I don’t do 9ams unless Im poked and pulled out of bed. David will have to get me up woopie! Anyway, I’m more 9ams since I started work anyway. 6am starts are hard, but you know what 9am could be a doddle now. I wonder if we get reading week though. That would be nice…

Only 2 essays to do this term, but lots of seminar prep and lots of translations to do. Wahey exciting stuff! Hopefully it will go well.

Fingers crossed.

Waiting for change

Waiting around for change isn’t easy. The end of slavery took years, the end of the British empire even longer and well don’t let me ramble on. But, change on a small scale can take just as long, I mean learning to trust again after it being broken isn’t easy but you know, you manage within time. Same with depression, it enters your thoughts and your being, everything becomes harder.

The nightmares have started to come back, I don’t know if it’s moving back to my student house which is bringing them on. Davids also saying im tossing and turning a lot more in bed when im asleep. Thats not a good thing because I may not remember my dreams but I think I get a lot of them throughout the night. I’ve had depression for a few years now, maybe longer because this feeling seems so familliar. Maybe I was depressed at school and the bombings just exemplified it but I dont know. Frankly I don’t care. Its part of me and sometimes I wonder if its consumed me. I keep trying to stay positive, the doctor said I was thinking a lot more clearly but its hard you know. How can you rebuild your life after someones broken it to pieces.

It’s so hard to get up every morning knowing that maybe you lived in someone elses place. Then you have to forget about it but the only cure to that is keeping very busy, and by that I mean no time to yourself at all. The screams never stop and the thoughts of guilt and I could have done this or that don’t help. How can you live with all the memories? I thought that I would live for each day now I’ve been through that. Well thats what everyone tells me. But you can’t, the guilt, the endless guilt never fades.

I work so hard to make others happy, so they dont feel what I do. To smile when I can not. I mean, its become harder now I’ve lost a friend and well one still refuses to contact me. I hurt inside daily, and no matter how many cups of tea, or celery sticks I eat, or cuddles, the pain never fades. Thats the problem with me, no matter what I do to change, it doesnt happen. I’m waiting for that change, the one day without guilt. But it hasn’t come, not in years.

I forgive the bombers for what they’ve done to me, I don’t hate them but feel pity, nothing but pity. I know they have ruined so many lives that day but what comes from being angry. I don’t know but I’ve never hated them but some part of me wishes I could have stopped them, by chatting to them. But life doesnt work out like that. I don’t want to hate anyone to be honest, there was so much hate in my life. I mean my parents would argue and argue and it is obvious they detest each other, but it hasn’t solved anything. They still fight and they still hate. At least this way I can try and understand. Hate doesnt allow room for understanding.

Waiting for change isn’t easy, it may not come or it may do. But I try and wait for that time, as hard as I can. I have to keep clinging on to the thought that one day things will change. Change for the better. But if it doesn’t come, at least I didn’t get my hopes up… (too much anyway)

Nimi x

David’s crisps

Davids eating all the crisps… which is good, its making me feel less fat. I think I need to loose some weight but those crisps are soo good. I must stay away from them or i wont stop eating them.

 

…. damn it, i gave in!

First post is always the hardest

Writing this blog is something that I’ve done in the past and then left behind. Haven’t written much in ages but I though would start again. I would introduce myself, but I dont want you to know who I am; and much about me. My name is Nimi Tilly, and of course that is not my real name. I am 19 at the post of this, and I guess you just need to know I live in Norwich.

My first post is not something happy nor something sad because I was hurt repeatedly by someone who I believed was one of my closest confidants. They were kind and always there at first; but when I needed them most they weren’t and I was lied to time after time. He would never ring after a while and then when he did it was only because I badgered him to or someone else made him. I hated it. I was told that he would change or he could change and that he wi learn. But he hasnt. Im sitting here now after he accused me of something that hurt me deep. He accused me of lying and being cruel and harsh; and also that I was not religious. Let me get this straight, I am a Muslim, and I have never denied this. Now, I rung him hoping he had changed and apologised for a lot of lies he told me and having a go at me saying what I believe in was rubbish – but he hadn’t. I fell for the same lies. Now he doesnt realise the problems he has caused. He does not understand that students at university all live different lives, especially with regards to money or time. I am a busy student admittedly and also very poor. I do not depend on parents or siblings or friends, just my lovely loan which I have to pay back. I have a job now which is great. But you cannot assume all students have the time, and the energy or the money to do everything. Sometimes, just likveryone else we have problems and want to hide in our rooms. And no I dont drink or smoke, in fact im a vegetarian (and trust me that makes things cheaper).

Now this friend assumed all students are the same, and I hate how he did that. Then accused me of not being religious and not contacting him. He denied saying things which have hurt me and by the end of the conversation I had to hang up and cry. He made me feel small and because he knew me so well he could hit me down to the bone. He did not realise that he had broken whats left of a mending heart. So ive given up now, and its been a month and a half. Thankfully im re-building my life, but it would be nice to know he cared. Everyone says he does; but for once I dont want to be the one to ring him, and he can work it out for himself. He did not ring me on the day of a friends funeral or the anniversary of a very bad day even though he promised.

So this is dedicated to him, the public disowning and dismantle of our friendship. I’ve given up on people who hurt me, and to be honest. I one day hope he realises that life does not revolve around him; and to send one text would not take so long.

Sorry about the negativity. Nimi xx