Anna Khayalan

@betteraviation Hi. Can I get info on Qatar's upcoming pilot roadshow? Cause I can't seem to apply on their website. Is walk in applications acceptable?

I won't end this year pretending everything was fine. I lost a piece of myself this year that I will never get back, and I'm not forcing a smile as if it didn't change me. So no, I won't be saying “2026 is going to be my year”. I'll be praying that I recover next year, that my heart never has to break like this again, that I never have to survive something like this again. I'll be hoping for peace. Real peace, the kind that lets me breathe without fighting for it. I deserve a year that doesn't hurt.

part of me still wonders why.

blankness is depression too. Sometimes it’s the purest form of it. Sadness at least has shape. Tears at least mean something is moving. Blank is worse in this quiet, insulting way because you can’t even point to a feeling and say, that’s the problem. You just wake up and it’s like someone turned the saturation down on your whole brain. You’re sitting there at 11:06, phone in your hand, screen glowing, and you can see notifications piling up like laundry. A text you should answer. An email. A meme. A friend checking in. And you stare at it with this dead calm. Not “I’m too sad.” More like “I can’t reach the part of me that cares.” Your thumb doesn’t move. Your mind doesn’t move. It’s like your thoughts are behind thick glass and you’re knocking and nothing knocks back. People don’t talk about that version because it’s not cinematic. It doesn’t look like crying on the bathroom floor. It looks like you standing in the kitchen at 14:37 with the fridge open, cold air on your legs, and your brain refusing to choose between two basic foods. Not because you’re indecisive. Because your brain can’t generate desire. You close the fridge. You open it again five minutes later like maybe something will change. Nothing changes. This is the twilight zone part. The in-between. You’re not actively suffering in a way that gets attention. You’re just not really there. Your body is present. Your personality is on mute. Your emotions are in airplane mode. The world happens at you and you don’t react like a normal human. Someone could tell you good news and you’d go “nice” in the right tone, like you’re reading a script. Someone could tell you something upsetting and you’d feel a mild “oh” and then nothing. The emptiness is not dramatic. It’s clinical. It’s a room with the lights on and no furniture. And it makes you feel guilty, which is the cruel extra layer. Because you start thinking, I should be grateful. I have a life. I have people. I have opportunities. Why am I like this. Why can’t I just respond. Why can’t I care. You judge yourself for not being able to access interest, as if interest is something you can force with willpower. blankness is usually your brain protecting itself. Not in a heroic way. In a last-resort way. If your nervous system has been running too hot for too long, or if you’ve been holding too much, or if you’ve been under stress you don’t even name as stress anymore, sometimes the system does the only thing it can do to keep you functioning. shuts off the parts that feel. Not because you’re lazy. Not because you’re broken. Because feeling everything would be too expensive right now. you get fog. You get “I can’t think.” You get the feeling that your mind is a browser with 40 tabs open but none of them will load. You sit down to do something and your brain slides off it like a wet bar of soap. You try to watch a show and you don’t follow the plot. You try to scroll and even the dopamine doesn’t hit. You just keep moving your thumb like a bored animal. And the emptiness has this weird physical quality to it. People don’t mention that either. It’s heavy, but hollow. It’s fatigue without sleepiness. It’s your limbs feeling slightly farther away than usual. It’s your eyes looking at things without taking them in. It’s time passing in chunks and you don’t remember what filled them. At 19:22 you realize it’s evening and you can’t explain where the day went. You were awake. You were around. You just weren’t present. Here’s the sentence that usually sits underneath all of this, the one that feels almost shameful to admit: “I’m not sad, I’m just not alive.” That’s what blank feels like. You’re not emotionally in pain the way people expect. You’re emotionally absent. Like your inner self stepped outside for air and forgot to come back. The reason these days are hard is because they steal your agency. You can’t “push through” when there’s nothing pushing.

Good Will Hunting (1997)

the grief feels extra heavy today. feels like i am swimming in my emotions and i feel everything yet nothing all at the same time

💜

“Whenever I see someone with an abundance of empathy I want to ask what heartbreak they have endured, for compassion is often birthed in the valley of despair.” — Zoe Clark-Coates [ Art • “Burn Out” by avogado6_jp ]

yeah breakups hurt, but have you ever been a super talkative, enthusiastic person but slowly over the years and after trauma you watch yourself become more quieter and quieter to the point where that enthusiastic bubbly person just isn't who you are anymore?

“I remember” is more romantic than “I love you”

Don't know how to feel when the images of things you're trying so hard to forget come across your mind in every similar situation that reoccurs now....

Cant stop thinking 😭

Allah is Al-Jabbar, which means He has the power to fix anything that is broken. No matter how shattered you may feel due to life's challenges, have faith that Al-Jabbar can help you put yourself back together. Trust in Him to restore you, even when it seems impossible.

Ever realised no one actually gets the same version of you? Who you were with each person came from a different phase, a different mindset, different lessons that shaped a newer version of you each time.

Watching myself lose my spark is the hardest thing I’ve ever been through… It feels like I’m slowly losing the part of me that made me feel alive.. and I don’t know how to get it back. I miss the person I used to be, the one who dreamed, laughed, and believed in better days. Now I just feel empty, like a dull version of myself that I barely recognize. The worst part is knowing it’s happening and feeling too tired to stop it. It’s like watching a light go out and there’s nothing you can do to bring it back.

Trauma in childhood doesn’t disappear. It just changes shape. Into anxiety, perfectionism, people-pleasing, anger, mistrust, and silence. The child grows up the wounds grow with them.

You can't just "get over trauma." It literally changes the way your brain functions. It causes you to not trust people and feel like you're constantly at threat. Trauma can change you into an entirely different person. It's not something you can just get over.

One random trigger out of nowhere and now everything comes rushing back inside your head like how it was the first time. Why can't you just forget? Every time you think you're fine, your body sends you reminders that you are not. How long more to endure this? ☹️

Peace of mind