Mariya Ali

Your needs before mine.

Your dreams before mine.

Your career before mine.

Your pace before mine.

Your conditions before mine.

Your decisions before mine.

You before me.

Always.

Is that not enough?

Close, yet so far.

We collided and now you spin in another direction.

I can see you, you know. Gravitating towards others.

You’ve created a black hole. The gravitational pull destroys everything in its path.

But that black hole is becoming my heart.

I feel myself collapsing in. Watching you spin away from me.

Until all that’s left is nothing. Because black holes destroy everything.

Yet again, I will be empty. It feels inevitable.

Inspired by Modern Love series 1 episode 3 (Take me as I am, whoever I am), I thought it would be kinda nice for me to introduce myself authentically. That you see the great, the good, the bad and the ugly in the hopes that you take me as I am, whoever I am.

Who am I?

According to bumble, I’m a chocolate loving, cat obsessed mystic. But I’ll be honest, that really doesn’t speak to my essence (don’t tell the cats). Who am I? Well, it’s complicated. Which I get is probably everyone’s answer, but I’m especially complicated. You see, I have this thing. It’s a small thing. Ok, maybe not that small. I have bipolar disorder. I say that often, putting little thought into what it means because I have become accustomed to casually dropping it into conversation. I have bouts of depression, mixed over the years with anxiety. I can be difficult during these times – I am impatient, because I want my feelings to pass and nothing takes precedence over ending my temporary pain that cripples me. I ruminate, because it’s a symptom beyond my control. I’m hypersensitive because my emotions are more vulnerable. I’m insecure because my sense of self worth is compromised. I’m unreasonable because I am too consumed with my emotions to think rationally in the moment.

Then there’s the other side of the coin. I am filled with intense emotions that burst out of me – happiness, optimism, a joi-de-vivre. Life is so beautiful and I am the luckiest person in the world. And you, and others, and everything makes me so happy. There’s no such thing as sadness in this world. Everything goes at 100 miles per hour, and you feel the excitement and adrenaline in your veins. I’ll make grand declarations, because damnit, everything is right in the world so let’s throw caution to the wind!

Then there’s stable me. The rational voice, who is reasonable and thinks things through. Who is spontaneous, but to a healthy degree. Who understands, listens and takes on board. Who sees things clearly and makes accurate sense of the world.

So who am I? Well, I’m all 3, sometimes exclusively, sometimes a mixture. I have this thing – bipolar, but it also has me. And sometimes I just need people to recognise that this thing makes me show up differently, but I’m the same person underneath. I’m just a bit busy battling my demons or flying high sometimes, so it’s hard to spot me in the noise.

Whichever version of Mariya I am, you amaze me with how much you say the right thing and do the right thing. When the cloud lifts and I see clearly, my heart melts at your understanding, care and pure heartedness. I am so glad you buzzed into my life – it was written in the stars. So if you feel that I am putting pressure, or making things difficult, or not making sense… please remember that I’m fighting a war in my head that I desperately want to win. Because if I’m really honest, the highest high that bipolar gives me doesn’t even come close to the feeling I get when I hear you laugh. My promise is that I will do whatever I can to fill my ears with the sound of your laughter as often as I can.

This is me. Take me as I am?

It’s a bad sign when I seek out alternatives. Not even for the sake of interest, but purely to divert my attention. My incredible loyalty faulters, and I divest my commitment. I see the grass that is greener. I find more comfort, less anxiety, more security. Then I see the flaws. I spot the inequities. I notice the lack of attention. I get bothered by not being reciprocated. I struggle with being treated as an option, and not a priority. Because I should never be an option. Being an option makes me look for my own options, which doesn’t sit right. My needs shouldn’t be dismissed. I shouldn’t feel like I am silenced. Or be afraid that the truth will push them away. Because after everything I’ve been through, I need to learn that I should never be treated less than the committed, caring goddess that I am. I am more than enough.

…if it meant nothing to ya. Because I’ve been reminiscing about those days and wondering, why? Why weren’t you even a good friend when I had handed you my heart and risked it all? I’m not sure why I’ve been thinking about you the last few days. Actually, I do. This song has a new meaning and a new person who is attached to it. It’s making me smile again, rather than fill me with memories of betrayal. What kind of friend leaves someone in their darkest hour? I would have been there for you. Every. Single. Day. You did me a favour though, because you never deserved a friend like me, and now you don’t have one.

So it meant nothing to you, but now it means something else to me. And guess what? He makes my heart smile.

Sweet memories of my grandmother have been on my mind the past few days. Tonight is lailatul qadr, and it reminds me of how we used to scheme our escape together – I would meet her and we would go on a clandestine adventure together (normally to McDonald’s!) In general, my heart aches for another moment with her. I wish that I could hug her one more time, smell her perfume and hear her tell me she loves me once more. I wish I could tell her that I love her once more. I wish she was here over the past three years to support us through everything we went through.

I’ve been listening to her voicemails the past couple of days – (probably not a great idea, considering I’ve been extremely anxious for numerous reasons). Her melodious voice was soothing, but it was followed by a low and consistent ache to see her again, which hasn’t really left me since. There’s so much I wish I could tell her right now, how there’s so many exciting things going on for me, which both fill me with anticipation and crippling anxiety. I wish that I could hear her comforting, judgement free words once more.

Nanny, I miss you. I promise that every time I see a cat or smell a rose, I will always think of you.