NOBODY

I am nobody who are you?
Are you nobody too?

My options don’t matter

My voice is not heard

I am invisible , Nobody sees me

Nobody hears me

Nobody will miss me

I am nobody

Why should somebody care about a nobody like me

Modest Dress Code For Children

Diary of a Revert Muslimah

Yeah I know it seems weird to be writing a article on how to dress children but I feel I must have a say and this seems like the only place were I can have a say so away I am writing .

I feel there are certain ways children should dress and this is my way no one Else’s way feel free to agree or disagree , I really don’t care .

 

Showing the knees in both boys and girls is tacky and immodest should be avoided.

The length of a dress should be at least below the knee or longer ankle length is preferred. When one sits down one should make sure that dress is draped over legs and ankles if need be one may use a small lap blanket to cover legs and be modest

  • Sleeves should cover shoulders and the older one is the longer…

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A Mothers Prayer

Diary of a Revert Muslimah

Oh Allah give me SABER
To deal kindly when the children are testing my patience and acting like wild animals

To guide them to the straight path , and not be harsh when they are jumping off the walls and everything else
Oh Allah give me strength and gentleness , as well as a clear head to see all sides of the picture

Give me courage and strong will to always speak and teach the truth
To be able to carry several sleeping children to their beds
Oh Allah Give me guidance and Saber
And help me teach and guide my children to the straight path

reading_quran

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pointless

I have come to the conclusion that fighting the bipolar monster is pointless why even bother all I do is feel exhausted and alone no one truly understands how I feel or what it feels like this all is so pointless .
I feel like I am walking through thick dense fog and freak show mirrors where ever I turn everything is distorted then I fall into the quicksands of depression the more I struggle the worse it is .
My husband doesn’t believe that there is such a thing as depression and bipolar disorder he says it’s all in my head , he doesn’t support me and is not understanding as to what I am going through .
My friends have all drifted away I am all alone and it will probably always be that way , no one sees me no one hears me I am invisible I am nobody who are you? Are you a nobody like me or are you a somebody ?
Were do the somebodies stay ? Is it were the nobodies never go?
I walk through the shadow of the valley of desperation, doubt and fears more often than I care to think about it, drown you deeper into the abyss of seclusion, irrationality and depression if you continue holding on it will sink you forever.
I have no voice I am voiceless no one can hear my cries and screams I have always been voiceless .

7 Ways to Deal With People Who Don’t Understand Depression

well written

Therese J. Borchard

mentalhealthforparentsIf “I believe you” are the three most powerful words you can say to someone with an invisible illness, four of the hardest or most painful words to absorb—whether they are said directly or communicated indirectly through insensitive behavior—are “I don’t believe you.” And yet, people who live with depression, anxiety, and other mood disorders hear them over and over and over again from family members and friends.

“How do you keep from getting resentful?” a reader asked me the other day.

I wish I had four simple instructions to make friends and family comprehend the kind of handicaps that don’t come with a parking spot, or at least, be empathetic toward those that are plagued by them. However, some confusion and ache is inevitable because some people are simply incapable of understanding. Here are a few things that help me to remain a kind, well-adjusted member of society in…

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That Girl

this poem speaks to me , it is as if it was written about me , both moving in a haunting and powerful way

bleedingbutterflies

Little girl, why are you crying? Little girl, why did you let them hurt you?

She was her own demon.
She was her own angel.
It took years for her to realise that. She blamed the world, everyone and everything.
She became a puppet
but only because she chose to.
She lost her way.
She didn’t follow the yellow brick road home.
She became her own prisoner.
No one ever knew,
The little girl who witnessed it all.
She wept at who she had become.

“I still see her. She keeps haunting me.”

“Who?”

“Me.”

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Depression Monster is back

the depression monster is back this time he came creeping in on the back of pain and loneliness, how many times must I battle with this monster?
Some days there is no point in trying to battle all you can do is keep your head down and wait for the monster to retreat . I feel osculate like I am of no use , medications don’t help keep the monster away all they bring is their own set of problems , why is my brain so messed up ?