DR. WAJEEHA ISSUES

Hey all Blogging . Blogging . Because am neither studying nor working. So thought of doing thing ... that I effortlessly do... Blog!  I literally wake up someday and feel very lucky. I feel very fortunate. Spend some time eeeing around the mirror . Other days I am a mess. Some days I am Saint unaffected with my surroundings . We all are. When we go through any emotional confusion it truly affects us on a whole new level. We act completely different and in some cases become entirely new people. 1. Positivity Pauses In my case I turn into negative nancy! For a fraction of second it is like I deserve to be alone forever... the next second it is , Who cares ! I am amazing and I'll do it with my pace. 2. Self worth doubts I allow people to drag down my self-esteem. I forget how important and wonderful I truly am! • I am a catch 😎LOL.😇• 3. Stuck in a rut and rant I fall into a hole and cannot get out for the life .I just cannot seem to break this slump an

Hey people !  Very few people speak of this journey .  They tell you the cheesy bits . Like the day they studied for 18hours straight. Or may be the day they felt like giving up everything. Honestly there is more to this journey ... the story with messy bits or the story with not so imperfect plans. The point of life where you pop out loud and fizzle out the next next second . What we see is the applaud on crowning with a Masters Degree. Nobody sees the sneer at the time of fall. Wait, may be they do... they do... but they chose to let it go. Once in your lifetime you are among the  people who are deemed as stuck in the “middle of the pack.”  I have come midway. There is no going back. But the path is muddy. My pace is slowing down. The hands are sometimes shaky and also the morale. I  cannot let the morale fibre lose its lustre. There are times I meet annoying people , have few bumpy rides on the way. With twinkle in the corneas and a wallop of goodness in the bones

hey people, S ometimes fear of exams creeps up on me, making it through my doors of self-love with a carefully crafted key. Those days aren't that bad, I can work through those days. Other times, however, it appears with an army of paranoia, breaking that door away with a hammer, bit by bit. That's the only way I put my panic attacks into words. I am surrounded by people who say they love and care for me. I am surrounded by positivity and affection, by rainbows and unicorns, by biryani and smoothies and every happy thing that exists in this vast universe.  They are reminders that while the deadlines burden me, they don't at least sound like it's the dooms day! I thought that my anxiety may have been passed down to me, generation after generation. I tried to look at my family tree and try to trace the roots of this paranoia ...  But then I saw my face (my father's features and mother's smile), and I remember that anxiety is of least of my inheritance