Anonymous
I cry myself to sleep. I think of the days that were my blessings. It was short lived. The times where I was respected by the people around although it was twice a month. It was worth it. It was a safe space. A space to let myself out, verbally with my words. A platform to showcase my talent of public speaking, making relationships, building contacts, a space to grow. Although it was chaotic at home, inside a small room, I had what I longed for years. I had the great minds around me, I had the space to learn, to grow, lesne from legends, great speakers, I had it all that I wanted but for a short time. It was over. Over in one go. It was not what I earned, perhaps because of marrying the reason I was in that country. I miss that country, that wierd smell, the prayers, my room, my working space, that shared kitchen, dirty and messy, those noiseless vehicles and smooth Uber rides. Today, I am crying missing that, while I was crying back there missing home. It's messed up. This mind. This noise in my head, like a demon. It wants that while I am in this, and wants this, while I am in that.
I cry myself to sleep. I wish husband next to me sees that and sees me. I wanna help myself. I take help, I am seeking help, I feel positive but when it comes to sleep, it's shattered. I pull myself everyday up to sleep, to wake up, to perform, to live, and return to sleep. It wasn't like this before. I wanna be better. It better be better for what we have come here. I wanna be respected, appreciated, and loved the way I was back in that land of black, white, sand, and heat. It better be worth it.
Can someone see me?