In all honesty, recovering memories and making sense of past trauma and realizing how much of your identity was decided by someone else is basically making yourself felt the worst you’ve ever felt in your life, destroying the entire unstable foundation of yourself, demolishing your work/studies and general productivty, and slowly building yourself back up on solid ground. It’s miserable and horrid and you’d wish you could undo the whole ordeal, especially when you have pretty much zero support and no one is comfortable talking about it in any serious sense or not belittling or mocking everything you do and say and calling you weak and telling you you aren’t acting like yourself. You (or rather, I) have zero access to decent mental healthcare and everything is by guardian’s permission only and your society stigmatizes mental illness and your whole future could be ruined if word gets out.

Your only brush with mental healthcare in Saudi Arabia is horror staple and old movie, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest antiquated asylums (standard for the country, depressing, prison-like, everyone looks disheveled and like the walking dead) and an absolute monster who demanded details about your sexual abuse while your terrible instructors who orchestrated this mess trying to prove you “unfit to be a doctor”(because autistic) watch like a disgusting, gawking peanut gallery.

You will turn into something sad, unpleasant, you’ll do things you never thought you’d allow yourself to do, you will lose friends who will become utterly sick of how pathetic and unpleasant you’ve turned out to be, but after a long period of bouncing back and forth between extremes, you’ll also get over old fears you’ve had from childhood, bit by bit, at a snail’s pace and everyone says it’s worth it, so it must be, in the end, right?

I really hate how hard it is to study and I alao hate how fantastically isolated I’ve become even online. I was so tired.

I honestly have gotten so, so, so much better and I’m happier now, but I’m still struggling to study and looking back on it, I don’t know… I had a lot of fears, but I was happily oblivious. It was nice not knowing and not understanding. Anyway… don’t try to make someone go through this, let them start when they’re ready and it better not be exam week in /their fifth year of freakin’ medical school./ Ugh…

Anyway, having access to a decent therapist who doesn’t send folks to spy on you around campus and show off about it would probably make this fiasco a tiny bit easier…


Female Characters Appreciation, Villains: Part 1

“Isn’t it time to acknowledge the ugly side? I’ve grown quite weary of the spunky heroines, brave rape victims, soul-searching fashionistas that stock so many books. I particularly mourn the lack of female villains — good, potent female villains. Not ill-tempered women who scheme about landing good men and better shoes (as if we had nothing more interesting to war over), not chilly WASP mothers (emotionally distant isn’t necessarily evil), not soapy vixens (merely bitchy doesn’t qualify either). I’m talking violent, wicked women. Scary women. Don’t tell me you don’t know some. The point is, women have spent so many years girl-powering ourselves — to the point of almost parodic encouragement — we’ve left no room to acknowledge our dark side. Dark sides are important. They should be nurtured like nasty black orchids.”

Tony volunteering as a guest lecturer for a semester at NYU or MIT or wherever.

Tony giving the students his email address and telling them to email him if they’re struggling.

Tony chastising students that email him past 11pm on a school night, because only he’s allowed to stay up that late at night (but then still giving them the help and support they need).

Tony bringing muffins and coffee for everyone who attends his lectures.


“Jesus, I mean, you guys do nothing but complain about how you can’t stand it in this place here and you don’t have the guts just to walk out? What do you think you are, for Chrissake, crazy or somethin’? Well you’re not! You’re not! You’re no crazier than the average asshole out walkin’ around on the streets and that’s it.”

– One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975) dir. Miloš Forman