Ahmad’s Diary #3: stealing, living w my parents, broken iPads, and tretinoin
It’s 3:23 pm, Tuesday, 21st of January, 2025.
It’s a moderately sunny day and I’m sitting poolside in an airy cabana as I type this. (If you live in Life Camp or maybe you don’t and just love a relaxed vibe, it’s called The Clubhouse)
One of the advantages of having a fully remote job is being able to work from anywhere and romanticise the experience, which I love doing.
Apart from that, I’m here to charge and work because there’s no light at home and our inverter is bad, so that’s the unglamorous part of things.
I published an entry yesterday and I’m proud of myself for keeping to schedule — It was a bit of a long one, though, was it too long? — because with considered pacing and consistency, I can see myself falling back in love with blogging.
Whoa, I’m just realising I’m a blogger.
That’s crazy.
Anyway, I have to write and submit a pitch for my next article at work, and I’m lowkey starting to dread these days (Tuesdays) because coming up with a good pitch has been harder for me recently.
I’m not sure if my creativity is drying up or if the parameters placed on the kinds of articles I can write are what’s throwing me off, but I’m trying to push past it, anyway.
They said two heads are better than one, right? So, what topics/situations/things would you guys read about? At this point, anything helps, even if it’s a struggle you’re going through and you want to hear the opinions of others.
Let me try and brainstorm now.
It’s 6:00 pm on Sunday, the 26th of January, 2025.
I wonder if one day I will look back at these journal entries.
Anyway, this week, like most of January, has been challenging.
I’m starting to feel the fatigue that comes with a new routine, especially one as task-heavy as mine. I’m hitting that stage where I’m ignoring my to-do list while probably biting off more than I can chew, and… it’s tiring — the whole thing.
Having big dreams and working towards them while living at home with my parents and just being right now, in Nigeria. It’s tiring and exhausting and sometimes I wonder why I’m doing it at all.
What if I walked into a forest and just never came out? Would that be so bad?
Just kidding.
I’m lying, I’m not kidding.
One of my main stressors is my parents. Trying to be a fully functional adult in the same space you occupied as a child is always a struggle, I know this, but the discomfort is always so… stressful/annoying/irritating/suffocating/saddening.
By now, you probably realise that I can be a bit of a control freak. I like having a firm grip on how my time is being spent and what my energy goes toward.
Living with my parents intensely aggravates that part of me. The random errands, tasks, and chores they send me, their insistence on telling me how they want me to live my life, the religiosity/prayers (oh, the fucking prayers), they demand so much of my time and energy that I can’t foresee/get out of, and its incredibly frustrating.
It’s definitely gotten better as I’ve aged, become less financially dependent on them and more obviously busy with work and my own things, but it never completely goes away.
This is why I really can not wait to move out.
I was having this conversation with my older brother (who doesn’t live here anymore), and I told him I feel I am at that stage where I need less and less from them because their presence in my immediate life is hampering my growth/expansion.
It feels like I can’t fully inhale or exhale because I have to live in their house and eat their food.
I don’t even mean my parents are intensely horrible or abusive or anything of the sort. I’ve had issues with my father as long as I had cognition. Is he a good parent? I would say no, most of the time, he isn’t. Is he a horrible parent? Also no, I think he could be much worse.
As for my mother, I love her, but my point is, they are both ideologically and almost fundamentally different from me.
And I know a lot of Gen Z can relate to this feeling.
My desires, priorities, routines, likes and dislikes, my… everything, is so different from them.
On one hand, it’s truly amazing that I grew into someone who is almost completely contrarian to their belief systems, values and desires, while under their roof.
On the other, it makes me feel like I am not in control of my life. Like I’m living my life according to their schedule, and it’s the most helpless feeling ever.
I detest it.
Yes, setting boundaries, yes live your life it’s yours, yes focus on the things you can control.
But man. Shit is hard and sometimes I just want to complain you know? I rarely let myself do that anymore, and I’m releasing I’ve started intellectualising a lot.
I know things will get better, I know I won’t be here forever, I know I will move out sooner than later, I know.
But it all still fawkin sucks. Okay?
Maybe another time when I’m feeling more productive and less… aggy, I’ll write about how I deal with living with them and being productive, but for now I’d quite like to bash my head into a wall and settle into a nice coma.
Also, my iPad stopped working yesterday. It was obsolete and an eyesore but she’s been with me for a while and it made me sad.
Later.
It’s 8:21 am on Sunday, the second of February, 2025.
I got a new (physical) journal today.
By that, I mean I stole one from my father’s study, so, thank you, Dad.
When I was much younger my parents were very disapproving of my creativity, especially because I had so much of it, and they are very not.
I used to sing, draw, design, and write. I mean, I still do all these things now, just in dramatically reduced amounts.
Anyway, they went on and on about how certain kinds of art weren’t allowed in Islam, and how I should lean into something more technical.
There is nothing technical/logic-based/scientific about my skillset or how my brain functions, but the constant battering cost me a lot of my creativity.
It’s why I focused on writing — it seemed the most “realistic” of my interests. The path that still seemed “serious” enough to allow me to make something of myself.
Looking back at the child I was, I wish I could shield myself from my parents and those narratives, I wish I could tell Ahmad that he can do anything he wants.
That he is the most talented person I know, and hiding it away was going to do nothing but depress him.
Anyway, this is why one of my biggest goals now is to revive all the parts of myself that my upbringing forced me to hide.
As I type this, I don’t know specifically how I’m going to do it, but I’m young, and I know that I can. It’s better to try than not, right?
I’m writing about this because I remembered I had a big interest in calligraphy and lettering when I was younger, specifically in Arabic and English, because I think those are the most beautiful languages to see and read.
We have lots of Arabic calligraphy dotting the walls in our houses, so it’s something I grew up seeing.
Another interest I discarded as I grew.
As you know, I’ve been having a pretty intense month, so I’m giving myself this Sunday to just do nothing. Apart from cleaning my space for the new week as I usually do.
I’m not going on social media and I’m not looking at any to-do lists, all I’m doing today is existing in my real life, reading, and cleaning.
Is it crazy how excited I am to just do that?
Later.
It’s 11:12 am on Monday, the 3rd of February, 2025.
Crazy how it’s February already. When did 2025 start?
I’m not complaining anyway, January was hellish.
On Friday I solidified my status as a person of poverty (for the rest of this month) by restocking most of my skincare at once.
That’s when I knew that I had to make more money. This 2023 salary is not cutting it, let’s be so for real right now. My boss and I are going to have a meeting about that at the end of the month, so, pray for me.
I also started tretinoin (0.025%, gel), which if you’re not into skincare, is a topical vitamin A that essentially addresses everything — hyperpigmentation, texture, cellular turnover, even wrinkles and fine lines.
I’ve been saying I’ll start since last year, and on Friday I said, what the hell, sure, and bought a tube.
Apparently, it makes your skin purge, so in the coming months if I break out badly, just press money inside my hand.
Apart from that, I’m feeling good about this month. For some reason, I feel like January was the brunt of it, breaking in the new year and all that. February will be a bit calmer.
Not less productive, just calmer; I have trialled my new systems and I know what I can do and what is a stretch for me.
Or maybe I feel this way because I did yoga this morning after a period of not.
Either way, I accept it.
I hope you have a peaceful February too.
below this entry is a clap icon and a comment section, and you can “clap” (hold down on the clap icon continuously) on a single post for as many as fifty times, this shows me how you felt about what you just read and also helps other people see my entries. Clap for me? you’re doing the lord’s work. i also love to read and reply to comments, because i love attention, so leave me a comment, hm?
and if you want to keep up w me elsewhere, i’m mostly on Twitter, but my Instagram is pretty too :-)
