What is the cost? I live in a foreign land. All the people…
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What is the cost?
I live in a foreign land. All the people I have ever cherished, except my spouse, live either in Pakistan or in other foreign lands. I pay the cost everyday with a heavy heart. I pay the cost in ways I never knew I would have to.
Maybe I am a fragile. Maybe the place those people held in my life and in my heart is just not replaceable by anyone else. Maybe my heart is not big anymore to create more space for new people.
Its true that I have a "better quality of life" here than i'd ever have been able to afford in Pakistan. Honestly I wasn't too happy in Pakistan either. Maybe I am just an unhappy person with a chemical imbalance that needs to be taken care of. Maybe I am unthankful for I know many in Pakistan would like to have the life I have here.
I have lived here a fair chunk of my life. It scares me to think that I will have to live here for the rest of my life as well. Or maybe what scares me is that I will never be able to go back to Pakistan again. A visit for a few weeks does not scratch my itch anymore. I always leave with tears in my eyes. I always arrive with a heavy heart that takes weeks if not month to pass. Its a mystery that I am trying to solve with my therapist. I have a therapist now. Its weird.
It makes me anxious to think I will not be able to see more of my aging parents. It aches me to think that I cannot meet my siblings as often as I want to. I feel helpless. I feel I am trapped. I feel like I have to blame external factors for I cannot see a way to solve this myself. The voices in my head do not get quite until I goto sleep and they are they wake up with a screeching noise in the morning. At least I am able to sleep well. Or atleast thats what my watch tells me. I do not need music anymore to keep me occupied. These voices do the job.
#local #current_events
source
I live in a foreign land. All the people I have ever cherished, except my spouse, live either in Pakistan or in other foreign lands. I pay the cost everyday with a heavy heart. I pay the cost in ways I never knew I would have to.
Maybe I am a fragile. Maybe the place those people held in my life and in my heart is just not replaceable by anyone else. Maybe my heart is not big anymore to create more space for new people.
Its true that I have a "better quality of life" here than i'd ever have been able to afford in Pakistan. Honestly I wasn't too happy in Pakistan either. Maybe I am just an unhappy person with a chemical imbalance that needs to be taken care of. Maybe I am unthankful for I know many in Pakistan would like to have the life I have here.
I have lived here a fair chunk of my life. It scares me to think that I will have to live here for the rest of my life as well. Or maybe what scares me is that I will never be able to go back to Pakistan again. A visit for a few weeks does not scratch my itch anymore. I always leave with tears in my eyes. I always arrive with a heavy heart that takes weeks if not month to pass. Its a mystery that I am trying to solve with my therapist. I have a therapist now. Its weird.
It makes me anxious to think I will not be able to see more of my aging parents. It aches me to think that I cannot meet my siblings as often as I want to. I feel helpless. I feel I am trapped. I feel like I have to blame external factors for I cannot see a way to solve this myself. The voices in my head do not get quite until I goto sleep and they are they wake up with a screeching noise in the morning. At least I am able to sleep well. Or atleast thats what my watch tells me. I do not need music anymore to keep me occupied. These voices do the job.
#local #current_events
source
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