Home : Is home the name of a feeling or a physical space? – stories from a bugeisha – Medium

Today I want to take this opportunity to tell you what’s been happening in my life the past two to three weeks. It’s been a roller coaster ride. You may think the adventurous one? The happy one? No, the saddest one, the most stressful one so far most possibly, one where I was losing my mind. I believe the root of all of this is two things: 1. My hyper sensitive personality (A state commonly known as HSP), 2. Me moving out of my first place, and then nothing fared well. Or did it? I want you to decide at the end of this article. When I came to Dubai, after living in a small room for a few days, I luckily found a roommate who was willing to share a room with me. I saw a super nice room, affordable, big, own balcony, own restroom, and the best part, as close as it can be to work. Great location. Nice roommate because she was hardly home and I had the room to myself for the most part. Now, staying there a few months my problems started when the apartment started getting too crowded along with a lot of party people, who were always partying in the house, the house got super noisy, with zero considerations for others. The kitchen was never free, and the other housemates started arranging parties even on weekdays. I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to move out. I stayed there from October till March, so technically I moved in there when I moved to Dubai, so it was my first home. It was my home. I was happy, and I got familiar with it, with the neighborhood. That home became my eyes to Dubai. But I had to move out. So, I moved out and got a place with a friend of mine I knew from Pakistan, my home country, and from my old company as well. Since in the first setting I wasn’t really living with a roommate, i.e. she was hardly home, and I was also going out a lot those days, so we never got to see each other a lot, we never got in each other’s ways, and we were never bothered by each other so much so that we would hate it. But moving in with my friend opened to me a new personality of mine. I stayed three months with her ending yesterday, which was Jul 31st and I learnt so much about myself that I had never imagined in the first place. I realized that I am absolutely not a roommate material, I overthink, I’m highly sensitive and little things bother me a lot. Plus I’m a person who likes to spend time alone, a lot. I’m shy, I hate wearing clothes after work, I wake up at the tiniest drop of needle in the night let alone alarms, and if I need to sleep, the room needs to be pitch black. Lastly I realized that I’m a borderline OCD case when it comes to cleanliness and order of things. Everything of course was going almost the opposite way living with the friend, my annoyance was growing day by day, and finally it broke loose once her cousin came to stay with us and added to the untidiness. I decided during the last two weeks of the third month of stay with her, that next month I’ll move out to a place, or a room of my own. One thing that I found really strange with this friend of mine is: we knew each other from college, we played in the same sports team in college, we later worked in the same company, and even sused to share a cab every day for commute to work, we then came to Dubai and then shared a room; but we never could become friends, real friends, we are still so distanced, and to be honest it’s definitely my mistake as well, may be I never involved her in my life, I used to tell her things happening in my day but I never got the same share from her end so I eventually stopped. I also never really asked her to go out with me except one time when we went for shopping together. We just never got close. But that’s a thought for another day.

So mid of July, I was determined to change the room, and me being an HSP, I overthought, over-researched, and over tired myself looking for a place, to the point where I would just take any room for the sake of it, because nothing fit into my description. I wanted a room, which was medium size, had a balcony preferred or a window must, if there is a window it should open, bathroom own preferred, if not to be shared by one other person, should be close to room, should have all amenities, room should have decent furniture, lamps, nice lights and big wardrobe. Apartment shouldn’t be too crowded, kitchen should be big and clean. Landlord should be nice and listen to basic needs. Price that I was willing to pay? 30% below market average, or the price of a small room.

For two weeks straight, I simply tired myself, physically and mentally with searching a place in this heat. Whole weekends, every day after work I would go out to look for these places, each day dealing with a new cowboy agent who would try to first rent out their shitty rooms by putting up a nice picture on the classified ad but then showing me a different room altogether. Or if not the agents, every other day would be a struggle of dealing with seemingly uncooperative prospective landlords, doing the same shit, showing me shitty rooms for the price of a villa. I was getting tired. There were too many options, and each had pros and cons. If the room is big, it doesn’t have a window, if the room has a window, the apartment doesn’t have a balcony, if the apartment has a balcony it is too far from metro, I don’t like the people in the apartment, the furniture is shaggy, the kitchen is too small and unclean, the bathroom is shared with a guy, there is no grocery store nearby, it is not affordable at all, oh god and what not, I can’t even list all of them down. There is just one appropriate word for that experience, ‘draining’. It was draining.

After long, I finally found the place which ticked most of the boxes, but my HSP kicked in, I overthought and kept thinking if it was the right room for ne, it sort of was, but I took longer than I should, it was a good room in a good building and it didn’t take the agent long to find a tenant for it. He rented it our just after a day he showed the room to me. I missed it. I saw another room close to work, ticked most of the boxes, for this one I took a week to decide, it was a good room, and again when I texted the owner, he had already rented it. This kicked in panic in me, I liked two rooms which checked most of the boxes of my preferences, and I lost both because I took too long to decide. So the next thing I did, was I saw another small room, it had a balcony, and was exactly according to what my budget was. I confirmed the room with the deposit in a day because I didn’t want to lose the room. I oversaw everything else. Next day for some reason another girl called me for a viewing a room. Even though I had already paid the deposit, I thought of giving it a try and go see the other room, or probably now I was so used to the viewings that it was my only activity after work. Sometimes I would even skip dinner and just go for viewings. I am so strange or probably insane. So I went to view the room for which the girl called me, and viola. It had everything I wanted. Medium size, super nicely decorated studio apartment, two rooms, sharing with just one other person (for the time being no one was there), own balcony, kitchen/bathroom sharing with just one other girl. Price extremely affordable for the value. 10 mins biking to the metro, direct bus to the metro as well. In a good location, and no real landlord. The studio was owned by a girl and now she was moving in with her husband, so she wanted to rent a place to just two nice and clean girls, and I wanted to be one of them, but alas I had already paid somewhere else. I regretted the decision, and two days in to the new place, I’m still regretting it.

Now you see? How shaky and uncertain I am, how indecisive I am. I am depressing.

But it would be unfair to not talk about the current place if my laptop’s battery permits. It’s been only two days so far here, no living room but private room, it’s nice, marina walk is right across, no point in going out in this heat, but the view is fine. Don’t know how to operate the tv yet, fridge is crammed and still have to figure out the kitchen cabinet spaces. Little exhaustion of the kitchen fumes, so when I came in someone had cooked just at that time, and so the whole house smelled of stale cashews. Luckily the room’s ventilation and door fits are superb so no outside smells escape in. it’s quiet except so far, sometimes a bit noisy. And that’s it, that’s all I can think about now. I’m tired. So much so that I don’t even have the energy left for venting or complaining. I shouldn’t complain so much God doesn’t like it. I should be happy. But is it a state I can summon?

But the point is, now I’m finally on my own, finally alone, finally what I wanted, but I’m not happy. But then I think what is happiness? What is this life and what am I doing with it? What is the use of all of this? Life is but a tragedy. Sure, I’m excelling at work, sure I have money, sure my family is happy, but then what is this emptiness? It is all but tragic. I have nothing.

A lot has been lost, and it will take me a long long time to get back up on my feet, sort everything out and get back to normal. I also stopped praying the past two days. I never missed prayers, but the past two days I have not been praying, and I don’t care as well. I feel no remorse, and no motivation to pray. This kind of phase has come to me after a long time, and I don’t know why.

Some stupid bullshit has also been happening at work, that’s the least of concerns right now, but it’s there in the back of my mind, it’s there. I have to write on it in detail, it’s also important and I will tell you soon about it.

And then I’m also planning a trip with my family, and it’s not being confirmed so that’s also something that’s pinching me at the back of my brain.

I will possibly die like this, unhappy, worrying about useless stuff, empty. So empty.

I have so much more to write, but I’m tired, my hands are tired, and my brain is tired. The laptop is dying as well. I want to send it to you before it dies.

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