Perhaps I can’t assert exactly the spectrum of what I have gone through, but I can assert that I have changed dramatically the past 7 or 8 or 9 years. I grew less and less and less carefree. I grew more and more of an overthinker, analyzer. I grew more aware of all the facts around me. I grew much emotional. Very much. I have been an intense feeler. I feel the good at its extreme, and I also feel the bad at its extreme. I grew more stressed over anything that could be stressful, or even less. I grew crazy nostalgic, as if the only meaningful memories in my life were those when I was younger, before 15 perhaps, before anything got ruined. I relive and try to revive my past memories almost on a daily basis. I grew more of a person who finds it impossible to let go, and who is pained every day because of this fact. I grew more of a person who finds it hard to enjoy full joy like before, careless joy like before.
I am burdened by my thoughts.
I am burdened by my intense emotions.
I am burdened by feeling too much.
I often feel a burden that I’m desperate to get off my chest.
I grew devoid of energy.
I have consumed all of my energy to spend on anything that is further heart consuming, or even less, or even the slightest.
I grew more of a best friend to tears.
I grew much more vulnerable.

Nostalgia: A Black Hole

I hope I can someday control and stop that dreary feeling that there’s definitely something I’m missing, together with that feeling that things are coming to an end. That feeling that things are ending, have ended or will end shortly pushes me to the edge of a volcano. And since I’m someone who is scared of endings, then it’s common sense that this feeling leaves me anxious and not in my best states. Add to this sort of anxiety, the immense loss in the sea of nostalgia! And I am bare! Bare of the basic tools of surviving; how to swim!

No matter those ending things are known to me or never known by only reside at the back of my eye. Most of the time I fear their farewell while I’m oblivious to what exactly they are.

The First Glance

You never have a type in shoes. You wear the utmost ordinary ones, never give a mind for that. And you never leave your district. HOWEVER. You taken for a mission in a far district. You, out of mere coincidence, find a shoe market. You take a glance at a stunning pair of shoes. You can’t afford them at the moment, or perhaps ever. You are hasty anyway. You know that not time nor opportunity can get you back to the same district again (even if you decide to afford). You leave the district. You never tell anyone. You keep recalling the image of that very pair in your head. It stays at the back of your eyes. Anyway, you LEAVE the district.

First, you can never get it out of your mind. You can never stop loathing yourself for not having the ability/ opportunity to have them. You wish you can even have another chance, another look at least. Then it keeps hunting your thoughts every now and then, the thought of it. You forget about it at times. Other times, you’re triggered when you hear someone speaking about shoes in general, or occasionally speaking about that color (which no one knows it’s the color of your beloved shoes. No one know you’re triggered: by a color, by a name of a district, by the mere mentioning of shoes. So the memory refreshens and moves from the back of your eyes and resides in your frontal cortex. You know you’ve been frantically fantasizing and platonizing the memory when you figure out they’ve been years since you first encountered the mere sight of those shoes.

Later, you happen to go for other walks in many other districts. You see even more stunning shoes. You like them. You start to develop a taste for shoes. However, you never stop by them because you know there definitely is a high probability you might find many other opportunities elsewhere. You never stop by anything, anywhere, anymore. Some mere temporary admiration builds within you, then fades away, because it’s their predestiny to fade away anyway. Then you become a trader, of shoes. You travel and see the world. You see anything and everything. Only see. You watch. You analyze. You develop thoughts. You mature. You understand what’s good and what’s not. You become a proficient expert at understanding shoes. You still wear your old old ones anyway. And you still can’t get the first glance out of your consideration along the way. You kind of assure yourself that no matter how many opportunities you might come face to face with, or even from a distance, there will always stay the image of the first opportunity you’ve first had an encounter with. It will always preserve its glamour, sacredness, stun, and stay in the memory fresh as it is.

Then you happen to visit the old district. You slowly and deliberately and anticipatedly go to that shoe market once again. And there it comes. After years. The mere sight of the same pair, again. You look! And look!

You keep looking. Then as slowly you begin to contemplate, scrutinize. You dare compare. Among the tastes you have developed, this is not one of them. You coyly confess to yourself that this is not your type. Stunning as this still is, it’s not your type. If you have to choose, then it’s not your type. Are you happier now? More satisfied?


You still aren’t.

You can’t absorb that what you have been fantasizing about and yearning to have one day is, by your own free will, not your desirable option. You can’t stop, nevertheless, fantasizing and being frantic.

Have you forgotten now and started to think freely of all the other options you might encounter?


You’re still thinking. Though you’re quite sure you might never take that pair into serious consideration, you’re still thinking. You can’t get it out of mind. You know perhaps it’s a matter of time.

You wait some more years, contemplating, understanding yourself more, and your desires: what are they, why are they?

Then you finally come to the realization that: perhaps it wasn’t all about the pair of shoes in the first place. It’s all about this:

  1. Juvenility of experiencing something of such a kind.
  2. The unresolving of the matter on the spot. For accumulation reinforces, intensifies, emphasizes, magnifies, glorifies, euphorizes.
  3. Nostalgia of the situation, not the thing. The situation with all its details is what has become a frantic daydream, not only one single detail in it. The day at the district, not supposedly the shoes.
  4. Then all of the three above can be summed up in the conclusion that: all this might have never happened if the realization came directly and immediately on the spot. Either you choose it’s the good pair for you and you speak that up and seek help, or you decide it’s not, so you disregard the matter as a potential subject of consideration.
    In other words: When a normal (or slightly above normal) thing happens, when you don’t resolve it, it accumulates, then this normal thing becomes an enormous subject for nostalgia. If you’re not a big fan of nostalgia, then you should learn to resolve on the spot!


Anyway, after a long look, now you DECIDE not to get them. Based on your understanding of life in a way more general and wider scale, you decide it’s not your type. So you leave.

Are you happy now? Free? Satisfied?

Alas! Still no!

You leave but the accumulation of what you’ve been building within you all those years haven’t decided yet to leave you.

You find yourself caught between the devil and the deep blue sea, between two ends of the spectrum. You want neither of the ends. Neither seem plausible. Yet still you’re captivated in between.

You leave but your thoughts never leave. You’re nostalgic but your current self doesn’t abide, doesn’t succumb. You never know anything. You’re disoriented.  

You find somehow considerate opportunities; however, you have an idea in mind about the first glance and you compare. You don’t compare the shoes, you compare the feeling of stun, the glamour you felt, the euphoria of accumulation you had. You need a similar experience, but with the right pair of shoes this time. This perfect combination doesn’t seem to have happened so far. You’re not hasty, anyway. You just need them to be as perfect and neat and sharp and polished as the first glance, but this time with the different pair of shoes.

Then after some more years. You pay another visit. Perhaps to further scrutinize, perhaps to add your final thoughts. Perhaps to have the perfect reasons you’ll convince your thoughts with in order to leave you alone.

This time. This very time, you don’t find the shoes in the market. You only find them sold out, and someone else is paying to have them.

Sensible talk: this is all the more reasons (the perfect reasons) with which you would definitely convince your mind to leave you alone. Now it’s plausible to let go.

Anyway, are you satisfied now?


Ready to look forward to new opportunities?

Will the ghost of the whole experience leave you alone?

You know for sure that you never want to go to that market again, anymore.

However, are you free?


Do you know when you listen to a recording of something, and the melody ends but the empty voice still keeps on going for a few seconds? These few seconds, I CAN NEVER SKIP! Even if in my life: If I am to depart with someone, I’d watch that person go away and fade out until they become a dot in the horizon, and then I’d keep following that dot with my eyes until it fades out as well. ONLY THEN, I can feel good bye.

Helpless Pain

Believe me, nothing can scrunch your heart like an autumn leave, burn it every day slowly and deliberately, and rob you of your peace of mind and stability of emotions more than having a sad parent, especially if you’re that kind of an intense feeler.

Eslam Shaarawy

Dearest Nadeen,
First of all, thank you for giving me that feeling of peace and easiness to pour my heart out for you whenever I feel like I need it.
I’ve been feeling something hard lately and I kept thinking of who I shall talk this over with but didn’t know if anyone will ever understand. EVER.
I thought of some close friends, but thought that maybe they’ll not understand or they’ll misjudge it.
I sent to my best friend. At first, as I assumed, she misjudged. She told me “متضيعيش مشاعرك و ترهقيها كدة”. Then I was cross because she didin’t get my point. Then she apologized and listened from me some of what I really feel. After that, you came to my mind. I thought I’ll send you. But the idea escaped my mind. Then today when you commented on my post, I thought yes it’s a good idea to write to you. I hope it’s not too long for you that you’re bored.
You don’t need to respond, though. It’s really okay. I just feel the need to talk to someone who could understand.
It’s also not a very big issue or a problem thank God.
It’s just a hard feeling that I feel like sharing. (so don’t worry :)) )
Well, sometimes the notion of death makes me stop at it and think a lot. When I hear about the death of someone, this somehow affects me. And sometimes not, tbh.
However, that incident that I heard about a few days ago, I could never ever get it out of my mind for 3 days in a row now.
I don’t know if you’ve heard about him. He’s Eslam Shaarawy, that 34 year old guy who published a last video expressing his repentance to God one week before he had a car accident due which he died immediately. His video has been shared a lot across Egypt and maybe Arabs too. At first I came across the video and ignored it. Second or maybe third time, I decided to watch it. I was affected by it. I shared it. The next day, I felt something strange. I rewatched the video again. And again. AND AGAIN.
And then started everything. I googled him and figured out he had a Youtube channel. I opened his channel, and I watched every video in it (quite a few, they were).
And then I started everything.
I started weeping.
I’m really sad.
You have no idea such an incident affected me.
Not masha3er-wise and this stupid talk.
It’s way way grander.
I found something in his character that hugely inspired me.
Personality-wise so that now I want to change aspect in my personality because extensively inspired by his radiant character.
His deeds.
His attitude.
His age and the influence.
They massively inspired me and changed the way I think regarding many things.
I would never tell this to anyone.
I’m not over dramatic as people might think if I told them.
I’m really really sad.
Ya3ny dah law kan 3ayesh.
kont hab2a ba check his channel every now and then like I did with others.
and clicked “see first” with them because they inspired me.
This boy, at that time of my life, he came to me as a divine help.
He cleared some confusion in my mind and my thoughts.
My vision is clearer now in things that you might not understand wallahy bs I feel it awe because it specifically touched me. And that’s why I told you I think that boy and I are similar.
We’re similar in those ways I don’t even know how to explain.
He loves people, just like I am.
He is gada3, just how I like to be with people.
His chivalry and generosity of character and softness of heart and enthusiasm at helping others and his passion in loving Egypt and its people give me unimaginable goosebumps.
If he were alive, I swear I would have wished to continue my life with him even though the difference in maybe the social and intellectual levels.
I think if I had ever met him, maybe I would have had those thoughts of consideration of what if we become somehow entangled?
I’ve been thinking lately and really confused about the “my type” of men. For sure I know that I love the humorous type. I love the masculine. I love the kindhearted.
Now, thanks Eslam, I know better about my type. Just like Eslam, enthusiastic and energetic and passionate towards everything including helping people and flourishing Egypt and doing good deeds and most of all, LOVING ALLAH FOR THE SAKE OF LOVE OF ALLAH NOT ONLY FEAR NOT ONLY WANTING SOMETHING NOT ONLY DUTY. PURE LOVE TO ALLAH, whilst knowing very well how to love life. Love life with all its beauty without suffocating restrictions that others might see better. I dare say I loved his vision of religion. I loved it and it affected my thoughts too. Now, because of Eslam, I desperately want to approach to Allah. I desperately ache for savouring that feeling of loving Allah and having a beautiful relationship with him. Because of Eslam, I feel that very urge that I want to swear many times and say: “أقسم بالله ما هاعمل حاجة حرام تاني”.
Eslam, you deeply influenced me. My thoughts, my vision, and I dare say my heart.
That’s why no one will ever ever understand my grief.
My sorrow.
I wish I’d met him.
But also don’t wish it because maybe I’d have been torn to pieces.
I don’t think I’ll easily get over about this whole thing.
I usually get very touched when I hear about someone’s death even if I don’t know.
And I keep remembering them for many days and praying for them even though I knew them only from a random post on Facebook maybe.
But this guy specifically I’m really unable to get him out of my mind.
May Allah show mercy upon him.
He so reminded me of Omnia my cousin (she was also 35 when she died).
I grieve for her.
I ache for her absence.
He and Omnia had a lot in common.
Very similar attitude when dealing with people.
That’s why everyone loves Omnia.
To the extent that the company she worked in named a separate conference hall after her.
قاعة أمنية كرام.
And literally everyone remembered her for something she did to them out of gad3ana (chivalry, generosity, the willing to help everyone).
Gad3ana, aka Omnia, aka Eslam Shaarawy.
This touches me a lot.
Look at this video and see how this guys how didn’t know Eslam before his death talks about him:
<< >>I swear to ALLAH, this is the same how I feel.

I’m tearing up.
Eslam’s word go straight into my heart.
The boy in the video, and finally finally someone can feel me. Someone knows and has tried my feeling.
Wallahy wallahy I’m very very sad.
Sad for his departure. As for him, I pray that now he’s happy and meeting his beloved Allah. And enjoying His presence and His heaven in sha’ ALLAH.
But what about us? Us who he has left? I’ll miss you Eslam. I already miss you wallahy.
My heart is burning bgd wallahy.
I hope anyone would feel me.
I prayed a lot for him and I’ll keep praying as long as I’m alive and remembering him.
Sob7an ALLAH.
What was between him and ALLAH?
I wish I would become like this.
I hope I meet someone like him in real life.
I hope I get married to such a character one day in sha Allah and better.
Someone who’d help me in my life. To be my safe zone. Someone who thinks like me and shares my enthusiasm and passion and love towards everything. Someone who’ll push me to work and produce and help and go everywhere. Someone who’ll love me, for whom I’ll be the feminine female and he would be my masculine kind and tender male.
But maybe it’s a lesson from God to teach me not to attach to people or things and only Allah.
I don’t know it’s healthy or not or whatever I don’t care but I’m really crying now.
It’s like I’ve been accumulating and suppressing this for a long time.. longer for my emotions to process and consider.
I foraged for every trace of him, Youtube, Google, Facebook to find anything more of him.
I found a video of his cousin, a few days after the death. His cousin who was younger talked about a dream he had of Eslam. In that dream, his cousin saw Eslam telling him to keep praying Fagr on time and never miss it. When I searched more in Eslam’s account, I found a post for him talking about a habit of him from 10 years or maybe more, he used to pray Fagr on time in the mosque. Masgid El Sayea Nafesa in particular.
I swear my heart started to move better towards Allah that now I want to pray every Fagr prayer left in my life on time.
God help me.
Eslam taught me that the love of Allah is much much much better than everything else in life, which is what I all want in my life from now on.
I want to taste that love, lock it in my heart, live with it until I die and meet His Almighty.
Thanks Eslam!
Now I promise myself and Allah and will use the same word that you said:
“أقسم بالله ما هاعمل حاجة حرام تاني”
I swear to Allah, I’ll never do any other wrong deeds. AS MUCH AS I CAN. Until God’s love has filled my heart, my soul, my mind and thoughts, and my whole being in sha’ ALLAH. And I will move move move with all my energy to build and produce and help.

A casual conversation with a new dear friend

[22:44, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: You know what?
[22:44, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: I too love nerdiness
[22:44, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: Today I had to deal with a doctor
[22:45, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: He was explaining a case and telling my family what’s wrong and so on
[22:45, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: And I was concentrating with him 3aady
[22:45, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: But I found that later on during his talking
[22:47, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: As if he figured out my existence and the fact that I’m paying him all of my attention (3aady because he’s saying something important), he started to give me a fair share of eye contact.
[22:47, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: And I was FREAAAAKING satisfied at that.
[22:47, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: I felt appreciated.
[22:47, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: Because usually I’m not given that attention
[22:48, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: I’m usually treated as the 3ayyela soghayyara malhash lazma
[22:48, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: Unintentionally from the addresser
[22:48, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: But I usually get those vibes
[22:49, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: Today, I experienced brand new vibes(when I’m with family)
[22:49, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: And I loved that a lot
[22:51, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: And this gave me some sense of: maybe he thinks I’m a person to be appreciated and worthy of sharing eye contact with, orrrrrr maybe he had that subtle vague distant crush on me
[22:51, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: Which in turn
[22:51, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: Made me feel like I’m not less generous not to reciprocate
[22:52, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: So I subtly vaguely distantly reciprocated 😁😁
[22:52, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: He was tall and very masculine
[22:52, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: Very deep voice
[22:52, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: Very dedicated to his work and seems he knows what he’s doing
[22:53, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: He also seemed a little humorous too
[22:53, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: He’s not the looks I’d go for tbh
[22:53, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: I don’t like hairy guya
[22:54, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: Sometimes hairiness turn me off
[23:00, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: I also noticed he had no ring in his left hand
[23:00, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: Look, he’s not my point tbh
[23:01, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: my point is,
[23:01, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: life has many candies :DDD
[23:01, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: We should carefully choose the candy that we’ll have for the rest of our lives
[23:02, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: and make sure it’s not rotten that once the sugar coat is done, the ruined part appears and makes us sick
[23:02, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: nor is it too sweet that it will turn us off (negza3) after a little while
[23:04, 12/02/2020] Yomna Seddik: It should be like strawberry, you can eat it as a sweet fruit, and yet still it has its fair share of sourness that wouldn’t turn you off of it after a while


The moment you know your worth, without the urge of seeking approval from the anonymous social consensus, is probably the moment you take the first step towards your genuine self-actualization!
Good  morning

A Message to Dr. Heba El-Abbadi

Good morning dear doctor Heba. :)) ❤
Let me ask this simple straightforward question:
Do you think I should drop out this year and apply again next year?

I know messenger is not the best means of communication and that I needed to meet you many many time across the semester to seek your constant consult, were it only not because of my work schedule. But let me clarify a few points. I believe I haven’t started this semester the right way. A lot of perplexities has happened to me be it not taking bibliography (I know I should have consulted you, but I didn’t have the opportunity) and also changing courses amid semester therefore increasing the load. Another thing is that I haven’t prepared myself enough for the MA. I have to admit I never thought it would be that heavy even with only two courses. Now as I am unfolding different aspects of my personality (I would like to call it my character is being developed), I have figured out other aspects that are as well not helping me make it this year. I believe I need to prepare myself by reading a lot and exposing myself more to literature and other fields before being ready to contribute to the production of knowledge myself. Another thing is, that I have recently researched the matter and now I strongly suspect that I have ADHD_Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder_.

I’ll very soon in sha’ ALLAH meet a psychiatrist to officially confirm it to me.

And this, as the acronym implies, means that I have very poor concentration abilities, am VERY VERY VERY easily distracted while trying to focus on anything, face extreme difficulty breaking tasks down and organizing myself and my time. (I have finally found a medical condition that explains why I always come late yaaaaay 😊, for one symptom of people with ADHD is that they are ALWAYS late, which is aka Yomna)

Therefore, I exert more than 100% effort in insignificant stuff that I believe are significant (which is a typical ADHD thing), thus I am always always mentally tired. I hope this makes sense.

I told you before I am a slow reader. And yes there are many slow readers who aren’t necessarily with ADHD. But being a slow reader because of having ADHD is a totally different thing. I also strongly suspect that I have OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder). And not in the romantic stereotypical sense that I am a perfectionist and I like everything to be well done. No! When I mean OCD, it’s OCD. Repetitive compulsive actions. Like reading a page and yet still feeling like I haven’t read it enough so I reread it (OCD). And reading a page and grasping it and flip the page and absolutely forget what I have read the previous one (ADHD). Doctor, I swear, I can talk about all the symptoms that I have concerning these two disorders that I can write endlessly. I could tell you stuff, upon which, you might feel I’m mentally ill or something. I’ve always thought I was abnormal and I never told anyone about what I’ve been suffering my whole life. It wasn’t until a couple of years when I knew there was something called OCD that could finallyyyyyyyy explain why I’ve been doing what I’m doing. And just a few days when I stopped and researched ADHD and was literally crying hard that I finally THANK GOD have found something that expresses my dilemma SO CLEARLY!!! I hope I hooooooope I am making sense.

Yes I know you might think that how can I be sure when I haven’t yet been officially diagnosed by these disorders by professionals. I’ve heard this twice recently. However, I am strongly positive I have them because I’ve made much research about this and LITERALLY every every every symptom applies to me!

Anyway, let me return back to why such a thing could be hindering me from pursuing my MA studies. Due to lack of my organization and lack of concentration, I always tend to accumulate stuff for/to/on me (not quit sure of the correct preposition :DD), I just can’t seem right now to sit and focus on my soon-to-be-delivered-tasks and actually accomplish them. That’s all in addition to a whole lot of self-doubt and other unhealthy thoughts. I’m afraid of losing, of failing.

Yet still, I really really need to pursue my MA. It’s like I have all the reasons to want to do it. I absolutely have the potential, it’s only like right now I don’t have the right tools to do it. Add to that, the wrong way I started this semester. So my point is, if I give myself some time until next year isA, I would read the 90 classical literature books that I gathered their names in one paper and put up on my wall right in front of my desk. I would try to take a step towards knowing myself better and sorting out this ADHD if I could. I would somehow reduce the stress of not coping, not being able to follow up, the constant feeling of being afraid to fail and so on.

And yet doctor, I swear I wanted to let the notion of me dropping out to be the last thing I would think of.
I really need it. I want it.
It’s just that I’m really confused whether I can do it this year or just to give myself another chance for a year to chill out and breath and think things over more carefully and better organize and sort out my life.
I’m just too tired of feeling behind.
Of feeling that I can’t cope. Of feeling that I’m ALWAYS in trouble with stuff that has to do with education.
“يمنى انتي مخك نضيف بس انتي لعبية”
“يمنى انتي شاطرة جدا بس كسولة”
I’ve lived my whole life feeling like I’m behind, I’m not coping well. “I can not make it,” which is thankfully confirmed by one of my was-once-extremely-inspiring professors. You have no idea doctor how this shook me, disappointed me, devastated me either. Anyway, not my subject.
Wallahy one real solid reason why I don’t want to drop out is that I might lose the chance the you would be my academic adviser again. I’ve been thinking about it since day 1 I started to think of dropping out.