اليأس من الأمل

كيف انتهى بها الأمر الى هذه الوهدة السحيقة من الأمل الكئيب اليائس؟ لقد سألت نفسها هذا السؤال مرات عديدة عالمة ما هي الاجابة. هي تعلم أنها حمقاء، و في نفس الوقت هي ليست غبية لتنكر ادراكها الكلي لما ورطت نفسها فيه و لأخطاء بالجملة ارتكبتها كي لا تفقد الوهم الذي ما زالت تعتبره جميلا، بل تعتبره أفضل السيناريوهات الممكنة في وضعها الحالي

لقد حاولت مرارا أن تحلل ما مرت به كتابة عسى أن تضع يدها على الدافع الحقيقي الذي جعلها تفعل كل ما فعلت، "لقد قرأت في علم النفس و أعلم تماما كيف أحلل المشكلات و دوافعها اللاشعورية الكامنة في أحداث الماضي." الا أن الكلمات أبت أن تطاوعها، و لم تسعفها قراءاتها في علاج نفسها المكسورة المعقدة. لقد اعتبرت ما فعلت ضربا من الجنون المؤقت، و لكن آثاره دمرتها و تركتها مسحوقة الروح لا تعرف الى أين أو الى من تتوجه. انها تعتقد تماما في استحقاقها لكل النتائج المترتبة على ما فعلت، لا بل هي تعتقد تماما أن الأسوأ لم يأت بعد، و لكن المضحك في الأمر أن ركنا صغيرا جدا في نفسها ما زال يأمل أنه من الممكن أن يحدث لها الأفضل، فقط لأنها تشعر بالذنب يحرقها مثل النار. أليست النار مطهرا و منقيا للمعادن؟ ألم تعتبر نفسها دوما صلبة كالحديد؟ اذا لم تكره نفسها الى الحد الذي جعلها تمنع نفسها من الأمل؟ "لا، أنت لا تستحقين حتى الأمل، لقد أقدمت على ما فعلت بملء ارادتك، و كنت عالمة بعواقبه، فلا تدعي البراءة و الانكسار. لقد كسرت نفسك بنفسك، و صادرت حقك في الأمل بيديك. لقد بنيت بداخلك عالما غير موجود و أرسيته على دعائم الوهم الهشة، و ظللت توسعين في ما بنيت و أنت تعلمين تمام العلم أن ما بنيت غير قانوني و غير صحيح. بل انك تماديت فتصرين على ترك الوضع قائما بلا تصحيح لأنك جبانة لا تريدين اتخاذ قرار سيتسبب في انهيار الدعائم الهشة التي تقوم عليها نفسك"
"ألست قاسية يانفسي قليلا؟ ألا يحق لك أن تخطئي و تأملي رغبة في شيء جميل و كامل لم تحظي به في حياتك كلها؟ أليس لك شركاء في الحزن و الاحساس بالحمق نتيجة ما فعلت؟ أليسوا أشد ندما و أكثر رغبة منك في هدم معبد الأمل الواهم الذي بنيته؟ كلا، انك لا تثقين بك، و لا بأي أحد، لقد صدقت الوهم و أنت تعلمين أنه وهم، تماما كمريض الفصام الذي يعيش في عالم آخر. انها أعلى درجات الحمق، أعلى درجات الحمق."
ثم ماذا بعد؟ لقد تركت نفسها تعبث بها مجريات الأمور كيفما اتفق، و لم تعد لديها الرغبة في فعل الشيء الوحيد الصحيح و العقلاني لتستعيد بعضا من احترامها لذاتها. و لكن هل حقا يمكنها أن تستعيد شيئا لا يسترد؟ ان الانسان يمنح أشياء كثيرة في حياته للآخرين، للظروف، للعمل، و لكن بعضا من أغلى الأشياء لا تسترد، تضيع الى الأبد و لا تسترد. براءة النفس و نقاء السريرة يضيعان وسط الظروف التي تجبر الانسان على أن يكون شريرا و قاسيا حتى يعيش و لا يأكله الآخرون، حتى لا تدوسه الأقدام. يضيعان عندما يبذلها الانسان مختارا لمن يحب مرة واحدة لا تتكرر، فيصبع استردادهما مستحيلا اذا غدر به. انها لا تستطيع استرداد أشياء كثيرة، كالزمن الذي كان يمكنها فيه أن تفعل الأشياء الصحيحة، و اليأس الذي مكنها لسنين طويلة أن تعيش في استغناء عن عطف و حنان الناس، نعم، ان أكثر ما ندمت على ضياعه هو اليأس من الأمل، لأنها عندما أملت صنعت في درعها الحصين الذي ظات تصنعه و تصقله طويلا، صنعت فيه فجوة من الضعف اتسعت حتى لتكاد أن تحطمها حية. لقد كانت حرة تنعم في يأسها، و كان اليأس يمنحها سلاما و أمنا من فقد العزيز و الغالي لأن لا أمل هناك في امتلاك العزيز و الغالي. كان سلام النفس يغمرها بالبرد و الوحشة، و لكن أيضا بالطمأنينة في أن لا تجرحها الأشياء التي تجرح. و الأن عليها اما أن تستسلم للأمل و تتحمل آلامه، أو أن تبتعد عنه و تسترد يأسها و سلامها
تستسلم للأمل و تتحمل آلامه أو تبتعد و تسترد اليأس من الأمل. انها مستسلمة، لأن اليأس لا يعود، أو على الأقل، هي لا تستطيع استرجاعه حتى الآن

The story of the only slap I got

I almost forgot this story but it came to my memory today as I was being "talked" by several parties, each believing they're right. Well, I was in the 9th grade (that's the third year in the secondary school) and I was having two terrible changes in my life; I was becoming a teenager with a lot of rebellion and challenge of authority, and I was being bullied by some girls in the school because of Egypt's support for Kuwait upon the Iraqi invasion. We had a female teacher that was the epitome of a "manly woman". She walked, talked, and commanded like tough military men. This woman; Medina; according to my late father, was once a student of his. Dad used to brag whenever her name came up that "I can go and slap her because she was my student" or in Egyptian language "تحبي آجي آخدهالك قلمين". I know I know, this is not the perfect example a father should give his child, but that was dad. Anyway, he said that a couple of times and I didn't care, until one day during the school day, one of the bullying girls harassed my sister and pulled her hair and dropped her to the floor, causing her to lose consciousness. This drove me over the edge and I began to fight with that girl, she spilled a can of juice at my "only" school uniform, I flipped and called her names. She said she'll tell Miss "Medina". I told her.....and I can see where this is going just like movie viewers know...I yelled "My father will come and slap your Medina".
Next day, during the school flag salute, Medina came and stood in front of my class, I knew what will happen, and I braced myself and hoped it wouldn't be in public. She called my name and said "Walk with me." I did, until we entered the headmaster's room, she threw whatever she held in her hand and turned, saying "where is your father to slap me now" and with the sentence completion, she slapped me, right on the cheek...
I shake every time I remember how these few moments felt. I knew back then that I was wrong, way out of line, but all I did was describe what the girl did. She said "you should've come to me and told me". With that she dismissed me, right when the classes were going to their classrooms. I didn't cry nor even utter a word, I held myself firm and my tears in check and walked among the crowds who were looking curiously at me. I held my head up high as if I just had a casual conversation. As the slap burned my cheek, all I could think of is "please God don't let there be finger marks on my cheek". I never actually knew whether there were marks of any kind. I went to class like nothing happened and never gave the girls the pleasure of seeing me shaking. I never told my parents what happened. I was afraid my father would really come to my school, then maybe she would slap him too!!
The morale of the story can be seen between the lines. I hope I learned something out of this story, "Never listen to your father when you don't know whether he can do what he says"

The Bad Stuff

Is it good to realize the bad things in your character? If the answer to this question is yes, then the next question would be: is it enough? Or corrective actions need to be taken when this realization happens? If the answer is it's not enough to realize what bad things you have in your character then the next question to tackle is: what are the corrective actions? And do I have the will to execute them to enhance myself? And if I do have the will, do I have the inclination to "do"?
I've come to the conclusion that it's bad to acknowledge that you have seriously bad traits in character, because when you do, you're faced with the resolution that you have to deal with them so that you can be a better person. And this is not a pleasant resolution, because people who are not ideally good tend to "secretly" enjoy practicing their "not so good" behavior, and going against that would be very hard.
Does this mean I encourage staying as I am just because I enjoy practicing my bad traits? Of course not, the real problem is that some people are stronger than others, and some people can have more purpose than others, and some times pose much pressure on people than other times. For example, I'm a whiny person, I tend to complain a lot about a lot, I allowed this behavior to linger for a long time until it became annoying to me personally. So I stopped and told myself that I need to deal with this situation or I'll end up with no compassion from others. I made a conscious decision to stop practicing something I really enjoyed, this is not a bad thing. A bad thing for me, however, would be to stop being angry at some situations and people which really pisses me off, just because when I'm angry I do not watch my mouth. I realized this "bad thing" and attempted to take a corrective action which is to avoid angering situations and people and even when avoidance is not working I should try to tone down my reaction or not react altogether. Although this improved my attitude for a while, I can't help but letting some of the "steam" go out when I'm by myself because otherwise I'd explode of anger. Sometimes I think I should take anger management classes, but I do not break things or hit things, I just say a few bad words and it's over. Drivers are allowed this luxury when they're on the road, so why shouldn't I when I'm alone. The really good behavior would be to forgive and be easygoing, but I just can't do it.
Should I tackle the rest of the list of bad stuff as I handled these previous two? I don't know about that. Do you face the same dilemma?

"Mining" my own business

It's very hard to dig under the surface of your feelings to uncover and understand deeper and possibly both more original and disturbing thoughts and emotions. That's basically what I was thinking about for the last couple of weeks, and I thought maybe if I begin writing it'll all come out into the open. It's all been about what I am truly, what are my traits that make me special in good and bad ways. I never thought of myself as "simpleminded" or purely evil, yet I know for sure that I'm superficial, greedy, and whiny. I trace these facts to my early childhood and know that some of them are the results of my upbringing. I never allowed myself to elaborate on such thinking because I did not want to face my own bad evaluation which should force me to work better on the bad stuff. I don't like it when I have to stop myself from doing something that I "like" just because it's bad or it doesn't fit the common definition of appropriate behavior. But it turns out I allowed myself too much slack that I don't know the good things in me anymore. Well, should I take the risk and begin my self-analysis? Should I take the time to fix the holes in my ship? Or should I just forget all that psychological crap and move on with my life like nothing is wrong?
The answer is probably yes, yes, and no. I hate to know that I have the strength to change, but I do, it's just that I don't want to, and in this I'm like old people who are pretty much settled in their ways and hate change. But I know better that to let my state degenerate to a person who's spiteful, hateful, and whiny, without something good to balance this out.