Pause. Rewind. Play.

I’m running in circles and they are infinite.
I want to ask you why you’re being so indifferent.
I want you to quell my insecurities
I want to know that I’m still primary
How can you know everything and yet nothing
How can you hear me reaching out and somehow not see it
I can see you slowly drifting down a stream. A stream for which I don’t have a boat.
You’re putting me on the back burner and forgetting.
You’ve put me away under lock and key and I can’t even bang on the door anymore.
Too far gone.
I look to find my voice but it’s hidden too.
Just like the pain and sorrow I hold when I speak to you.
You will not know this is for you. You will read it and put it away. Like the hardcover books being replaced with your paperbacks.
Jealousy.
This is a cry for help and salvation.
Call in the cavalry.
Arm the guns.

Shall I still name her after you?

Superfluous

Contentment: A feeling of ease and happiness that stems from needing nothing more at that particular point in time.

Examples:

A) When your six year old cousin falls asleep in your lap having spent his entire afternoon regaling you about the intricacies of his first grade life

B) Knowing you have five people you can call at a moments notice and have them listen to you whine

C) Seeing the entire clan around one dining table. 

D) Knowing the power of difficult circumstances and being able to control any urge to aggravate it

E) Proving the one year promise to myself and having sheer satisfaction at seeing the fruits of my labor laid out before me

F) Doing the most extensive introspection and being able to use it to be a more empathic individual

I have nothing to whine about or cry about or write about. This is a new terrain and I am slowly mapping it out

Impulse Transmission

When I start reading some of the emotions and sentiments I penned a year ago it really amazes me to see how far I’ve come. Loath though I am to admit it, the fact remains that time heals everything. Time and tact if you want to be specific. I’ve been taking a lot of my own advice lately, and I can see it working out in my favor. I have a better understanding of life, and its constituents. Perhaps with this enlightenment I have lost the desire to document all my depressive habits onto paper. Perhaps it is better to let dead things lie and not to dig up old graves. Perhaps. 

I am being pulled in so many directions at once but this time I have a choice. I can choose how to handle every problem, person and instance. It is surreal to be able to wield this much power, and even more unorthodox to use it. I am finding my way again. The funny thing about a path is that once you’re on it it seems ridiculous that you were ever off of it. 

It is a weird sort of feeling knowing that you can have something if you want it and having your brain veto-ing the decisions for once. No more impulsive behavior is a positive sign, no? 

Choler

(in medieval science and medicine) one of the four bodily humors, identified with bile, believed to be associated with a peevish or irascible temperament.

 

You’re making me so angry these days. I can’t even type without feeling the surge of rage build up within me, barely contained and hidden. I hate how selfish you have become. I hate how much you’ve started using this independent phase of yours as an excuse to do as you please. I hate the secrecy and the lies. I hate not knowing the truth and I hate knowing the truth too, especially when it comes from somebody else. I despise the way you’ve started speaking to me, because I can’t tell the truth from the lies anymore. I always could you know, and now I’m trying so hard not to see the lies. I’m working so hard to see the normalcy in this abnormal situation. I hate this two-faced behavior. This is not healthy, this is not right and this is not fair. 

I’m not used to cloaks and daggers. I am not used to shutting up. I am not used to people saying one thing and doing the very opposite and then not even bothering to justify it. I am not used to not knowing. I am not okay with finding out with the rest of the world because it makes me feel sidelined, betrayed and used. 

I know if I act on this we’re going to have problems. I know if I don’t keep my mouth shut we’re going for a strike. I know if I don’t stop caring we’re going to have to reevaluate everything. Have you ever had to rewire your entire conscience? Have you ever had to bite back basic instinct and carry on living this new persona? I doubt you have. I doubt you would. I do believe that on your plane you do not think it is a big deal. I do believe that you will play this off as an overreaction with me over-thinking everything. I know it will reflect rather highly on the “over-emotional, over-dramatic” scale and I will close my eyes and take it. 

 I will never say this out loud. I will never repeat these sentences in public. I will never disapprove of the things you say and the way you have decided to live your life. I will never use anything you have said to me against you. I will never not defend you to the hilt. I will never not laugh at your anecdotes. I will never not help you out when you need it. I will never not counsel you to the best of my ability. And I will do this knowing that I can get hurt in the process. I will do this knowing that while I trust you, you will never trust me the same way. 

Back from Hiatus

I’ve been on hiatus for the last few months, satiating some expectations and all that. Countless times, I’ve opened up my blog just to stare at it. To try and figure out whether I had something to say, anything worth writing about. It has become an active goal of mine not to write about things that have made me unhappy because a) it makes for dubiously depressing re-readings and b) it is not a healthy habit. Yes yes, I am more than aware that I seem to only write about troubling things and I apologize. I’ve had a terrible problem ever since I was a child, I can never write happy stories or pen happy endings. I would and do, write the most gory, depressing, disturbing stories. I’ve discovered that my happy exterior is balanced by this, this dark part of me. It makes it possible for me to vent out all the negativity in a productive manner. Some people paint, some people shoot and I pick up the proverbial pen and write it out. 

Another reason for my recent stint of Writer’s Block is the fact that life has suddenly gotten too real. Cue the suspenseful music please! Things have been happening, dear Kitty. I’ve been making leaps and bounds. I’ve been having a really good few weeks. Meeting people, having numerous heart to hearts and I’ve done my fair bit of soul-searching too. [Knocks on wood.] But under all of that have been things that I don’t particularly want to write about because seeing them written in black and white may cause me to have a slight stroke. I’m a bit of an ostrich that way, with the tendency to bury my head in the sand and pretend like things will pass me by. 

Making adult decisions is hard. Acting like an adult is even harder. When I meet new people, they don’t see my backstory. They know practically nothing about me, and hence acting like a well oiled cog in the clockwork of society is highly important. I don’t care for it but I do worry that they’re getting an inconsistent impression. Well that and everyone else who knows me apparently sees me as unnecessarily emotional and annoyingly so. Thanks a lot, you’ve taken away my mental projection of myself. The three C’s : Calm, Collected and Confident. Lovely. All those hopes dashed. 

But yes. Shying away from dealing with certain facets of reality and enjoying the perks of other happenings has been the bulk of my break. I’ve also never been as lazy as this before. I’ve treated time like the sand running through my fingers. Apparently regular old “self-assured” me has discovered a penchant for sleeping in and accomplishing nothing whatsoever. Fair enough. It was bound to happen. 

I’m also writing this to check if I still can. It is deeply baffling to me that I haven’t written anything of substance in weeks. Terrible really. 

Note: high-five for Anne Frank reference! 

 

Just for you.

My friend worries all the time. She worries if the person who has suddenly come into her life is serious about her or not. She doesn’t know if he’s into her despite her having worn her heart on her sleeve. I know this was hard for her, and as she’s always been the cynical sort, new to these situations. They talk a lot, they speak about the future. But there are no labels. And that is when I realized something.

Without labels no-one understands what to make of a new relationship. Are you just friends? Are you more than friends? Are you going out if its obvious you like each other? What are you? How do you know if this is real or not? And more than this, how do you explain it to other people?

It is much easier when we are younger. You can smack any label onto it and do as you please. And then suddenly you grow up. Or well, people see you as grown up. You become aware of society and the responsibilities a relationship entails and you start to worry.

“If it isn’t serious, is he just using me? ”

“Okay so we spoke all night, but do you think he’s interested in me?”

“We didn’t speak for 2 days!”

“Okay so we aren’t dating, so I can’t just be annoyed at him for little things because like, its not official you know?

“Man, I’m just having some fun, so what? ”

And you know what? It is fine to not know. It is fine to go through your day one moment, one minute at a time. It is perfectly normal to not know if its serious yet or not, and it is also okay to pretend like you know what you are doing. It’s definitely easier, infinitely easier to smack a label or categorize whatever it is you two have because then you’ll think you’ll have a playbook that society and culture have cultivated over the years. You’ll know what is expected. You’ll know that you should celebrate one month, or remember the date you became official, or figure out that those inside jokes you two have are secret inside jokes.

But it is also a far better idea to not worry about those things. To take things at your own pace, to forge your own path. If it is meant to be, it will be. So my answer to all your questions, my darling, is this:

Let it go. Let it happen of its own accord. Your propensity to overthink in this realm will only be detrimental. You are not compromising on yourself, and no you are not changing as a person. He is so lucky to have you in his life, just as I am to have you in mine. Yes, he does like you. No, he is not playing you. Yes, he does seem like a great person and I hope for you this is the real deal. No, you are not allowed to look down upon yourself and don’t you dare listen to those people who you and I both know as being a little traditional in their views. You do not have to prove this to anyone, and least of all yourself. I’m so proud of you for how you’ve managed and micromanaged these situations and I have no advice for you. Why do you think my messages comprise solely of laughter and emoticons now? Just know, that I am more than capable of shooting his knee-caps off if he even tries to pull a fast one.

You’ve got a solid head and a lovely heart. I love you, you gem.

 

Pulling Into The Station

Being happy is so contagious. Sitting in a circle, and being able to laugh till your sides are sore. Grinning till your cheeks feel numb. Choking on a glass of water cause the giggles just won’t stop bubbling up. All of these feelings come together and spread through your body like warm golden liquid. They thaw your heart, and open your eyes just that little chink more. So that you want to hug, you want to love and you suddenly can. 

Every week you learn something, if you’re lucky they’ll be fantastic revelations that add value to the spring in your step. Maybe its knowing that you’re the first person they called. Maybe its realizing that the problems that plagued the past are just that, the past. Maybe its finally being comfortable in your own skin, and being able to toss away the insecure carcass that was weighing you down.

Sometimes you’re not too lucky, and they’re less than wonderful. Perhaps you realized how selfish you let yourself become and how much you’ve hurt someone important to you. Perhaps someone surprised you with how close-minded they are. Perhaps you realized how insignificant certain events are in your life. 

Its important in times like these to be able to take 15 min to take stock of what life is. The goods and the bads. The highs and the lows. Yes, you are married to this life, your life. Yes, you do have to make do. You have to find joy and peace when everything around you is railing at you to let go and break down. Everytime you keep your temper in check, or keep yourself from speaking a harsh word goes down in your favor. 

 I know that no matter what happens, I’m going to need those little moments of laughter, those carefree moments of happiness and I’m going to need them with you guys. I’m glad I’m finally finding my way through this tunnel, and the light on the outside is so bright and wonderful that I can’t wait to pull into that station. 

Encumbered

I do not want to help you make your decisions anymore. I do not want to be the friend who is congenial and helpful and takes care of you all the time. Sometimes I don’t even want to help. I don’t want to give you advice. I don’t want to choose where we’re going to eat. I don’t even care about it. I don’t want to decide what you’re going to order, or what you should wear. I don’t want to take care of you anymore.

I’ve spent so long picking up the pieces, glueing them together and handing them back to you. I’ve listened to you cry, and yell and I’ve heard all sides of the story. I remember when it was really important for me to be there for you and I know how much you needed me. So I was there. 

I want to be a little selfish now. I want someone to come and take care of me. I want someone to decide where we are going to eat. I want them to decide what the plan is. I want them to tell me to slow down. I want someone to hold me back once in a while. I want someone to disagree with me. I want someone to make their own life decisions. I don’t want to hear about every little thing anymore. I can’t do this. 

Trust me, I can see just how many “I’s” there are in this post. I can see how that looks bad. But I never get to be this conceited, or self-involved. I’m always looking out for someone else. I’ve had to give up things to make things easier for someone else only to have it come straight back and stab me in the back. 

I once wrote that one quote I read said if you can go through life, and come out the other end  and be able to count 5 people who you are genuinely close to, you can call yourself a winner. I’m saturated now. There are those people who I love, and cherish and would do any of the above for in a heartbeat, without thinking. And then there are those where every conversation has become tedious. Its become the same old rigmarole and instead of coming out of those hours feeling refreshed and alive, I come out tired and weary. This cannot be healthy. 

I realized today that one of the reasons this summer is wearing me out, is because there are too many occasions where I am (unconsciously) being ingratiating, or too involved. It is only when I go off the grid do I realize how occupied I can become and forget that I too need time. 

Weirdly enough, I think I just want to  be a child again. I want someone to make some decisions around me. I don’t want to dominate every single discussion with you. I don’t want to tell you what to do, you are old enough to know better. I want to be selfish one day, and have you listen to me for a change and have you tell me what to do in the crazy haze that is life. 

I don’t think that I can stop being how I have always with the people who really matter. I just need to figure out who is really worth it. And if you’re reading this, and you understand this; then you’re probably one of them. 

Rehashed Conversation

“Do you know how hard it is, to be surrounded by something? To hate it, detest it with every single fibre of your being but have to put up with it for the sake of someone else? 

And to see it, unfurl in front of you, a torrid path of destruction.

And yet, short of avoiding it, and hence avoiding the very people on a daily basis, and short of voicing it, you can’t do anything. 

So you start feeling left out.

And you get restless.

And if you look into the distance, it seems so rocky, and impossible.

And you have to compromise. On yourself or on the relationship. And on this, i cant compromise on myself.”

Opportune Therapy

You’ve had it so easy for the last few years.  You’ve never had to explain every thought process that comes into your head because everyone already knows what you mean. There are no assumptions, only statements of fact.

They’ve seen you in your highs and your lows, they’ve seen you crash and burn and rise from those ashes. They’ve seen you make mistake after mistake and come pick you up from the rubble that ensued. Now you’re a little further away. You’ve lost your comfort cell, you’ve garnered distance and had to face problems different time zones away. Somehow you forgot and decided to trust everyone with everything that came your way. Somehow in the midst of all that, you got hurt. Badly. It stung but again you managed to make it through. Again you decided to let go and let things be. Again. Again. Again.

They say that after years of practice, you can achieve perfection. You continue to believe this. You continue to hanker after the balance, after those rosy glasses you long since buried under all the history. You continue. You linger.

Then there come those magical days, when you can forget about the bad days and just be. Everything suddenly makes sense, things just fall into place. The sky seems brighter, the laughter seems louder, the smiles seem more genuine. You can’t even imagine why you thought those gray clouds couldn’t disappear. You feel like you are dancing on air.

You have never liked jigsaw puzzles, yet now you can understand why there are those who while away hours watching every single piece fall in place. Why you even bothered confining yourself to all those reflective surfaces surprises you now. You etch it onto wood. You scrawl it on your pages.

Therapy rears its head in the most unlikely ways and at the most opportune moments.