Luinil



I've been in Istanbul for almost three weeks now. I've been to the city maybe one or two times. just to get some stuff I wanted and then straight back to the university.

I'm taking part in a super intensive program here and I am exhausted beyond belief. I haven't slept much. maybe one or two hours a night since i got here. I skip most meals (which is not really a problem) but OH! MY! GOD! THE PRESSURE! and it's not just me. there are twelve of us. none of us are the same people who got here. It's weird how people learn to adapt. How they are capable to change their habits and push themselves to a point that you might think: My God! That person is dead after this.

To be honest, I’m enjoying this. Not the pain. Not the sleep deprivation. But the fact that I’m so fucking tired BECAUSE I’m doing something to be better. I’m forcing myself to go on. I think about what I want, where I want to be, and why I did this in the first place. It makes me want to keep going. And I can’t shake of this feeling that I can do more.

While writing this, I feel disappointed in myself, yet proud. It’s hard to explain. Maybe to phrase it properly I should say I’m proud of myself for not wanting to give up after feeling such disappointment towards myself.

I’m still dealing with my depression. With the dark, thick, fog of sorrow that lurks around my mind. There’re not enough heavy metal songs to keep me sane and safe from these shitty feelings.

On my first week here, I messed up my second TP. The irony of that session was that I really thought I’ve done great. The entered Mahmoud. My tutor. He just turned to me and said: Solmaz! I am very disappointed in you. It was a disappointing lesson.

I was crushed. I froze on the spot. As he was mentioning the mistakes in my teaching, I felt this wall of insecurities crumble and fall. I agreed with everything he said. Every single word. He crushed me, but I was happy. So happy that I wanted to cry. He destroyed everything that used to make up my many masks. Layer by layer he pointed them out and suddenly I was standing there, right in front of him with nothing but who I am on the inside.

After that session I didn’t sleep for 53 hours. I worked my ass off. I drank so much coffee to stay awake that my stomach gave out. I built up the lesson from scratch. I practiced in empty classes. Taught to empty chairs. And when the day came, he saw me.

He saw! Me! The most terrifying thing for me is being seen. But I was there, I knew this was going to be the first time in a long time that people will see me as who I am. Without the clown act, without the crazy shit. Just me. And it felt good. It felt awesome.


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