Caterpillar Talk

So where have I been the past 200 odd days?

I often ask myself that question. But the truth is, it has been hard for me to document every single moment, thought, emotion and action since I stopped blogging.

I felt like I needed to do more at the time, as opposed to write.

Oh, but don't think I was on a joyride. It's been a rollercoaster on fast forward. From barely staying afloat my sea of tears, to finding love and living on a cloud for those enchanting few months, to finding a job and remembering how truly brilliant I'm at my profession, to redefining core relationships, to finally sharing my original compositions with the world, to gaining and losing weight, to gaining perspective but losing at love, again, to moving all my things back home, to finally identifying a 'home' space, to nesting, to longing for a companion, to wanting NO ONE to enter the space of my ever-covetted Underbelly, to discovering the magic of eating apples. Yes, it's been quite a wild ride.

All in all, I'm happy I made it to Day 315 alive, in one piece. The curveballs threw me around for a while, but so far, I'm still winning. I'm tattooed but not scarred, hurting but not destroyed, tired but not vanquished, ready to live another day in this busy transit we call 'Life'.
Now that the cocoon is breaking, I'll finally be able to stretch my long, cramped legs. And wings.

Upward and onward... Please?

Day 35: Help

Today was a day of mixed emotions. From unbelievable stifled energy coursing up and down my body, to period cramps and confusion, to bursting into tears out of nowhere to a tub of butterscotch ice cream to encouraging my friend out of a depressed state.

I think everything I've been struggling with came to a head today and needed release. The tears helped in that release. My grandmother sat sa my side through it all, until I was calm and rested. I'm grateful for her.

The butterscotch ice cream was incredible. After two years of barely going near ice cream, the taste was all-the-more relished.

But the best feeling I got today was when I gave my friend some comfort. Even though I haven't been able to meet him yet, our conversations are stimulating and inspiring. Today he admitted to me that he's has bouts of depression in the past couple of years. This was a special moment for me, because it told me he trusts me enough to share something that vulnerable. I sent him words of comfort and told him I've been there too.

Of course I had to add something cheesy:

"Don't worry about finding rhythm in your life. As Gloria Estefan rightly put it, "The rhythm is gonna get you".


In any case, it was comforting to know I'm not the only one struggling. But moreso that I could relieve some of his burdens even for a few minutes. My shoulders eased too.

I think it helps to help others when I am low. Being able to create a positive change in someone's life, also creates a positive change within mine. It made me believe in better days and a better life for myself too. We are human and therefore we are all connected by the struggles of life. And I think it brings us closer because we all want somebody to help us through them. I hope I can do this more often.

Day 30: Forward

Today marks 30 days (a month) of continuous posts. I must admit this has been hard. And the next 30 days are going to be harder, as my will to post lessens.

But what I have observed is amazing. I have had something to look forward to, at the end of every day, that I am doing for myself, for a better life, that I am holding myself accountable for. I have nobody to answer but me. And that has given me tremendous motivation to continue writing. This has been the one constant, unchanging activity for the last 30 days, and small though it may be, it has given me a sense of stability. And it has given me time to reflect, to pay attention to everything in my day, to be aware of my thoughts and emotions and to practice not getting swayed by them.

As I continued posting I noticed how I began to look for something positive — anything positive to write about that could help me appreciate my self and my life. Some days have been better than others. Some days weren't so inspired. But everyday, the one positive thing that remained was that I didn't give up on myself. Not just yet. Not today.

Tomorrow I resume yoga. I'm nervous because my body isn't as sprightly as I would have liked. I may not even feel refreshed in the morning. I may not even last the class. But I am looking forward to going. I look forward to tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that too.

I'm looking forward.

Day 28: Daze

The ground swims 'neath my feet.
Like vapors aboved a heated car.

I'm still but also restless inside
I'm here but I want to be far
Away.

Blank as a slate
But wordless thoughts
Scribble away in my mind.

I stare at the clock
In front of me
Hoping for time
To move.

Deep breath in, out
Deep breath in... out...
Deep... breath... in... out...
Deep....... breath........ In.......Out.......
Deep....

Day 25: Busybee

I want to write ONLY positive things today, because I got a lot of work done and I'm fairly proud of myself.

I completed two big steps that take me forward in my visa application.

I'm flirting and chatting with a man who's funny, intelligent, adventurous and light-hearted. And he makes me laugh. Totally what I need. I think we might just become very good friends, if nothing else. I can't wait to meet his dog. 

I snagged a writing assignment for a content publishing company. 400 words per article. As many as I can dish out. It only took me 20 to write one. Guess what's going to keep me busy for the next few days? Oh, I do get paid, but I'm not doing it for that (it's just about enough for cab fare). The work is reactivating my brain, especially because for some reason writing is my art of expression in this phase of life. 

I managed to brainstorm with my sister about her projects and get some insight into my own.

I did 30 mid-air squats today. It could have been yesterday, but I think it was today. Or yesterday. But it happened. 

I released my ex-boyfriend from the hurt inside me. He's human and he did and said only what he knew best. I wish him karma. 

I have begun to love dried figs. Sugar craving re-conditioning achievement unlocked.

This project that I helped my sister with involves me 'acting' in front of a camera for a Web Series. A few years ago, I wouldn't have dreamt of it. Now, it feels natural and I'm being appreciated more than I expected. I've been bitten by the drama bug and am liking the attention and praise.

I also feel blank in my head. Not too many thoughts. It could be the medication. It could be that my mind is just occupied elsewhere - somewhere productive. I like being employed. I feel a sizzle in my batteries. 

Sizzle, sizzle. 🔥

*pat on back*

Day 22: Too Many Mind

Today my brain feels like scattered pieces of mosaic tiles, strewn across an already uneven ground. Where to look first? What to pick up, what to leave behind? Which colors are brighter? How would I even look at each piece mindfully in one day? And even if I did manage to collect, clean and organise all the pieces, don't I need to level the ground first?

Mottled brain soup, that's what I feel like.

I am, in sooth, over-stimulated right now. Too many events. Too many people. Too many goals. Too many doubts. Too many voices. Too many thoughts. All darting back, forth and every other possible way like busy super-trains.

I'm reminded of this scene in The Last Samurai (one of my favorite films of all time), where Capt. Algren is trying to learn the art of fencing from a senior samurai (and failing miserably at it).

Nobutada, who is watching , as Algren gets beaten down turn after turn, tells him, "....Too many mind."

Algren: "Too many mind?"

Nobutada: "Hai... Mind the sword, mind the people watch, mind the enemy. Too many mind.
(pause) No mind."

This is very powerful. "No mind", is the ultimate state of being, isn't it? To just 'be' in the moment and let the present take over, however it may, knowing you are ready for anything. It's quite relaxing, just thinking about it. To be One with yourself. To be One with Now.

I'm going to let the mosaic pieces stay where they are. I'm going to let everything be. If my mind is scattered and unsettled then so it is. Even unlevelled ground is still Earth I can sleep on.

No mind. No mind.

Day 21: Letter to You

Dear You,

Yes, this letter is addressed to YOU and not me. I want to take this moment to tell you that you are special and magical. There is something beautiful that radiates through you, whether you believe it or see it in yourself or not. I see it.

And when you are in a dark corner and cannot will yourself to get out, remember that you are brilliant and capable of anything and everything you set your mind to.

I know the 'easier said than done' reply. I am not saying I have it all figured out. I'm discovering life too, a day at a time. So even if I cannot tell you how to get out of the dark corner or assure you that everything will be peachy forever, I can say this: you are not alone. There is power in knowing that everyone is struggling with something big or small. And that even if we feel alone or lonely, we are in it together.

I hope this strengthens and comforts you. Know that you are worth the fight, the pain, the struggle and the investment. You are worth every ray of sunshine.

And I love you, as you are, today and forever.

May you be happy.

Tulsi

Day 18: Shelled

Today's been a busy and challenging day. I managed to step out and be in crowded areas with people. Yes, this does sound silly and you're probably thinking, What? She has trouble being around people now? I mean, she could sing on stage in front of a 100 or more people and roar with laughter in a pub. So what's this new agoraphobic behaviour?

I don't know what to tell you, except it's new and likely to be temporary. I haven't exposed myself so much to even my loved ones and it's very exhausting -- talking about my feelings, emoting, crying, feeling conflicted in what to share and what to censor, who to confide in and who to smile at. It's extremely tiring. And now that I've gotten used to this with a small handful of people, an entire crowd feels like being caught inside a cave with no air. Worse still, I feel so exposed it's like I'm a tortoise whose shell has been ripped off. I've nowhere to hide, take shelter in, I can't scurry away into a corner and I have to wait until the scars heal, bleeding for all the world to see. This would be one of my worst night mares, being seen, being heard, being watched while I bleed my heart out.

But here we are. So I made an effort to visit my sister's today, without my mother. I was nervous and almost turned around when I was on my way, but I gave myself the option to leave if I was self-conscious and uncomfortable. I knew that my sisters would understand and that gave me courage. So I went and met them. And I had a good time. We laughed at each other, at ourselves, at being women in our thirties with tired ovaries,  at being human. It felt good. I'm glad I was bold enough to break away from my cocoon today. I also feel fortified in knowing I am protected and sheltered by my loved ones. They may never replace the home that shell had been, but they've created something special that makes me feel safe.

The climb is harder, as layers peel away, and my resolve gets stronger. My skin and heart are raw, but I'm beginning to believe they will heal and be thicker and stronger soon. Sometimes I long for companionship. For a fellow seeker to climb with me and tell me what his view is like from where he's standing. At other times, I want to be still and quiet, and not exchange a single word or sound with anyone.

I pray for balance. I pray for forgiveness, from the Universe and from myself. This is hard. But I'll keep trying. Making an effort is all we can really do.

May not have a shell anymore,
but by God,
I shall have this mask. 

Now listening to: "Orange Sky" by Alexi Murdoch
https://youtu.be/4FL7c7zcpvA

Day 17: Sleep

Sleep has been the order of the day. And I have no idea where it came from. I had planned to get a massage in the afternoon, but something just told me not to, deep inside. Instead I went to my bed, and played around with my ukulele. Before I knew it, I was fast asleep.

I had a bunch of dreams, different people in different places, me biking down a steep hill in China, and then eating at a restaurant for a break. Being at a festival of some sort with some old teachers from music school. Meeting an old classmate from my first-ever school. There was celebration and adventure. Everything and everyone from different parts or stages of my life came together; I didn't know where to look. 

I woke up deeply rested, half surprised I even slept that long. To have this state of deep relaxation is a luxury and I am grateful for it. 

I started playing the bamboo flute my mother gifted me. It's hard because the holes aren't placed in a symmetrical fashion. They aren't meant to be. And my fingers aren't used to stretching that far to cover them. And a bansuri is harder than a recorder. You have to get just the right kind of lip pucker, if you know what I mean. My mother saw me struggle and said, "Start with one note." And so I did. 

I'm still adjusting to this week. Some plans are set in motion to help me get back on my feet. A routine is being put in place. Some help here, some medication there, some internal meditative work and some external physical discipline. They all sound like old friends I haven't met in a while and I'm wondering if they will remember me and still think I'm the same resourceful, independent, strong, innovative woman I think I am or used to be. Brief breaks can feel like an eternity, depending on the state of your mind. I'm apprehensive, but also excited. I know I have done this before. I know I have beat this before. I know how to succeed. I have succeeded before. It's been a hard fall, recently, but I know I can walk again. You don't just forget to walk, do you?

It helps, especially, when a guy tells you you're cute just for being you, too. Let's not pretend like that doesn't make a difference. (More on that, another time.)

For now, I'm going to focus on my breath. Breathing in, breathing out. And the gap of silence in between. Nothing more. Each day, one more breath. 

Motto: One step at a time. One day at a time. One single note at time. And sleep. Lots of sleep.

Day 13: Change is Gonna Come

There's an old friend that

I once heard say

Something that touched my heart

And it began this way

I was born by the river

In a little tent

And just like the river

I've been runnin ever since

He said it's been a long time comin'

But I know my change is gonna come

Oh yeah

He said it's been too hard livin'

But I'm afraid to die

I might not be if I knew

What was up there

Beyond the sky

It's been a long, a long time comin'

But I know my change has got to come

Oh yeah

I went, I went to my brother

And I asked him, brother

Could you help me, please?

He said, good sister

I'd like to but I'm not able

And when I, when I looked around

I was right back down

Down on my bended knees

Yes I was, oh

There've been times that I thought

I thought that I wouldn't last for long

But somehow right now I believe

That I'm able, I'm able to carry on

I tell you that it's been along

And oh it's been an uphill journey

All the way

But I know, I know, I know

I know my change is gonna come

Sometimes I had to cry all night long

Yes I did

Sometimes

I had to give up right

For what I knew was wrong

Yes it's been an uphill journey

It's sure's been a long way comin

Yes it has

It's been real hard

Every step of the way

But I believe, I believe

This evenin' my change is come

Yeah I tell you that

My change is come

https://youtu.be/k6YCxXQ6Scw

Thank you, Sam Cooke, for writing this. 

Thank you, Aretha, for warming my heart with your voice. 

🙏🏼

Day 11: A Prayer

Benaulim Beach, Goa

May the Universe guide me through this journey and help me walk forward.

For the hurt I have experienced, for the wounds and scars, I offer gratitude for the lessons they taught me. I have been attached to their company, but I understand it is time for us to go our separate ways.

For what I cannot predict, foresee or plan, I surrender myself to You, Dear Sea. I believe in Your wisdom and I know You will envelope me in your embrace and take me where I need to go. I am but a grain of sand in Your current and I will gladly follow You anywhere.

No matter where or how I am, may I always, always, always be able to stop and look in wonder at Your majesty and beauty. 

Day 10: Taking the Suit Off

It's getting harder and harder to post something every day. I'm very raw and emotional and it takes a lot out of me to pen down my thoughts. Thinking them is tiresome enough; writing them down for the world to read is just another hill to climb. I even contemplated giving it a skip today, despite knowing that I have so much to say, and I don't want to give up. Well, here I am again.

So I'm finally going to address this topic I've been avoiding for a while: Guilt. It might take more than one post, but I'm keen to crack the surface.

All my life (up until the past couple of years) I was oblivious to the amount of guilt I've been carrying around. I used to pride myself on not having any regrets, despite the rollercoaster I've been riding since a very young age. I'd say to myself: all these events, people and choices have led me up to this point in my life, and have made me who I am today. And I like me, my life and so -- no regrets. This thought process worked for many years and even helped me boost my self-esteem when things got rough or I was fragile.

Like I said before, curveballs are one thing. Curve-bludgeons are quite another.

But before I go further into the topic of guilt, I need to address another topic, one that will make more clear why guilt has taken centerstage in my life right now.

About 8 years ago, I attended a forum run by Landmark Education. They're a global group that conduct motivational seminars around the world, helping you to find what it is you really want in life, and empowering you with tools to achieve that ideal life. It was pretty powerful and those workshops really did strengthen my resolve to live a more meaningful, wholesome and healed life. It mended a lot of strained relationships with my family at the time and made me feel stronger within myself.

One of the workshops focused on 'Strong Suits'. Strong suits are loosely defined as your strong points, something you excel at or can be noted for, which you use in different areas of your life.
For E.g., the session facilitator asked each of us to list 3 qualities that we thought would encapsulate us as individuals. Three words. Not stories or sentences. Just sum up yourself in three words.

Mine were: 'STRONG', 'INDEPENDENT', 'CREATIVE'. I think these summed me up quite well. My group members came up with their own. When we were done sharing our qualities with one another, our Session Facilitator told us these were our strong suits. We weren't BORN this way, but we had accumulated these skills or sharpened them along the way, to help us cope with life, in a way. We were all surprised and somewhat indignant at first. What did he mean, coping mechanism? Does that mean I'm faking it? That I'm pretending to be creative? That my talents aren't real?

He asked us to take some time to think about the first time we ever adopted any one of those qualities. An instance, an event, something someone said, anything -- it was most likely to have happened in the early years of our lives - somewhere up till the ago of 15 or 16 at best. We really had to dig deep.

And then the memories began to appear in front of me like little glowing bubbles.

STRONG:
I remember an evening in my grandparents' bedroom. I must have been no older than 4 or 5. I was fiddling with my grandmother's writing table and stationery, and out of nowhere my grandfather yelled at me for touching her things. I was so startled I ran out of the room and found a dark corner to cry in. I had never experienced such terror. And my grandfather was a very tall, big man with a booming voice. He could be quite a bully back in the day and everyone feared his temper. I can almost remember the explosion of adrenaline somewhere between my stomach and chest and the immediate impulse to run. That's not the last time I've been yelled at by a member of my family, or been punished for doing something I wasn't supposed to.

Another memory came flooding back: I was 12 years old, when I first registered that I was being touched inappropriately by a man. I had no one telling me what was right or wrong, and no one really knew what had happened at the time. It was something within me that set of an alarm that said, "No, this doesn't feel right. He shouldn't be touching me." And I froze with fear. It took me weeks to muster up the courage to make him back off (which he did). I remember feeling powerless, vulnerable, exposed, insignificant and ashamed for letting it happen and knowing no better. I even believed that I must have done something to deserve it. This is irrespective of the fact that he escaped punishment and I've had to coexist with him for longer than I would have desired. This wasn't the last time a man tried to touch me inappropriately.

I developed a temper at a young age. I began beating up boys and girls at school. I had angry outbursts as a teenager and attempted to 'destroy' people's hearts with my words. I self-harmed, stopped eating and was very destructive for about 2-3 years before I went to college. My rage was uncontrollable. And nobody understood why. In my 20s, I joined a martial arts group and for the first time I felt safe and understood. My rage was channeled into hardcore physical exertion and I became a calmer, but physically very strong woman. I no longer feared being attacked or reprimanded. Nobody could bully or misbehave with me. But I still had angry outbursts - only this time, my ego was my sword. My physical strength made me believe I was powerful enough to destroy people by lashing out at them. And I would. This destroyed me much more than the receiver of my wrath. I still struggled with destructive relationships, but since then have become stronger and wiser. Therapy helped. I became quieter, less aggressive and more contemplative. I made a vow this year never to lash out again in a moment of anger. To respond and not react (unless I'm being attacked, of course). Never to raise my voice again. And I haven't, so I'm quite proud of myself.

CREATIVE:
As a child, I'd always been a bit of a day dreamer. I loved to draw, paint, play music and look outside the window and make up stories. But I fared poorly in school: you know, the subjects that everyone should excel at in order to be a 'success'. I barely followed math. I loathed physics. I like chemistry because I got to mixed things and play with fire. I liked biology because I got to draw intricate diagrams of plants and insects. I wasn't physically fit and wasn't allowed to play inter-school sports because I'd have to wear shorts as part of the uniform. I didn't fit in with the popular kids. I wasn't a smart student, I wasn't an athlete, I wasn't a theater performer and I used to stammer when I was nervous. I was bullied a lot for 'being stupid', 'being fat', 'being ugly' (Yeah, I know, Assholes). But I excelled at Art, Music and Languages. I was one of the only two students who were allowed to remain in the school choirs (both Indian and Western Classical) right up till I graduated. I used to carry my own art kit to school everyday, and help students with their projects. I drew caricatures of my classmates and even the school's principal asked me to make one of him, which he proudly framed in his office. I became the reputed artist and musician. And it suited me just fine.

It was in high school and college that I discovered that I'm actually quite intelligent, when I excelled in all the other subjects as well and took part in several inter-collegiate competitions. And that I'm not ugly or fat, after all, when boys began to fall in love with me. But that didn't matter, because these things weren't my USP. My art was. My music was. So I took them up as hobbies And while I spent years as a magazine journalist, writer, editor and many other things, my heart finally pulled me back to where I was truly happy -- in my art and my music.

INDEPENDENT:

I realised very early in life that money makes the world go 'round. And that you cannot love on an empty stomach. Growing up in a joint unconventional family that had many members with an incomplete education created a lot of tension when it came to paying bills and taking responsibilities of running a household. There were egos, tempers, fights and humiliation. My parents decided it was time to move out, my brother and me in tow. I was 15, when the world I grew up, the universe I knew, was ripped apart and I was uprooted and taken to a different country to start a new life. Sure, new adventure, I told myself. But I lost my feeling of 'home'. That was the first of many moves, to the point that in my 20s I got used to the idea of living in one place for only 2 years, until it was time to move again. Money was a strain throughout, and it tore my family apart. I soon realised my freedom lay in my own income. I started working at the age of 19 and my father opened my first bank account for me (the best thing he ever did). Once I began to earn money, things changed. I didn't need permission for a lot of things. I didn't need to ask for an allowance. I didn't need to put up with the lectures of "we don't have enough money". Because I did. I didn't need anybody to fend for me or provide for me. I began to support myself, through trial and error. It made me feel safe, having money of my own. I moved out of my parents's house at 23 -- something that is culturally unheard of in my community, for an unmarried woman. It was hard, but the best thing I ever did.

I'm still moving around, but I know that no matter where I am I will always land on my feet and I will never go hungry or worry about where I'm going to sleep for the night. Sometimes it makes me detach from a place or people very quickly. Sometimes, it's necessary, but when it isn't, I do feel bad.

When I understood these strong suits, I realised that they were an armour I built around my skin to protect myself. To protect that child who had suffered different traumas at a young age. I began to pride myself on having them. I began to identify myself as these qualities. I forgot about my fragility, my humanity and my innocence. I became hard and impenetrable. I was friendly and extroverted but few people could gain access to the vulnerable me. It took me a while to remember that the little child is still in there somewhere. And that I didn't have to let go or undo the armour to find her. My travels around the world, interactions with people -- other seekers like me -- have helped me to understand this.


This brings me to now.

Things had set in motion around late last year, when some incidents triggered a snowball effect in my introspective journey. A lot of repressed trauma and memories came to the forefront. I had been going to therapy regularly and I began to acknowledge their presence. This hit me quite hard and threw me off balance. Added to this were significant life changes, geographical shifts and relationship turbulence. While I feel broken, damaged, scared, fragile and unbelievably terrified of letting people see me, I also am glad I am facing everything, with the help of a therapist and a loving family and supportive friends. I think that's just good grace I've earned over time and I'm grateful.

But with this crashing down of my armour - the strong, independent, creative woman who doesn't need anybody to take care of her, who always finds a solution to any problem, who can survive anything - has added a considerable amount of shame and guilt on my shoulders. So I'm going to state everything I feel guilty about and hope that in this declaration, it's out in the open and can finally leave me:

I feel guilty because I cannot carry myself physically forward.

I feel guilty for not having the wisdom, strength or tools to protect myself as a child.

I feel guilty for not having the courage to say 'no', when I wanted to.

I feel guilty for the rage I have felt against my family for not protecting or guiding me when I needed it most.

I feel guilty because I couldn't make my last relationship survive the tough times.

I feel guilty because I'm relying on my parents to support and love me and hold me up when I can't stand.

I feel guilty because I feel that I should be doing this for them.

I feel guilty when my mother hugs me even when she has a backache.

I feel guilty when I cannot let my father see me cry or when I'm vulnerable.

I feel guilty when I have an anxiety attack and my body shrivels up and contorts and I cannot breathe, and I cannot snap out of it right away.

I feel guilty when I cannot meet my friends and tell them how my life is going.

I feel guilty that I do not want to be seen, even when everyone is worried about me.

I feel guilty I cannot be there for my siblings when they are struggling with their own problems.

I feel guilty that I cannot change or improve my situation today, this minute, right here, right now.

I feel guilty that I couldn't control my emotions when I wanted to.

I feel guilty because I lack patience, and it takes patience to acquire patience over a period of time.

I feel guilty that I put my body through so much stress, anxiety and worry for the past year, that when it gave up on me, I was frustrated with myself. (I'm really sorry about that, Tulsi. I promise to make it up to you.)

I feel guilty that I am spending my life savings on more education, living in a country I'll have to struggle to belong in, rather than saving for a secure future (if that even means anything, really).

I feel guilty for allowing myself to believe in promises of love, when deep down I knew it was a long shot when the man just lies to himself, so how could he even know I was The One?

I feel guilty for not being strong enough to support the man I loved, when he was being inauthentic with himself and wanted to be validated, and stood up for the truth instead (I will get over this one quickly, I assure you).

I feel guilty for not being able to be mentally and emotionally stable enough to face my family and friends, to smile and laugh, to feel normal and live a healthy, active life just yet. I'm afraid they will lose patience with me.

I feel guilty when I can't go up and down stairs because my erstwhile strong legs are in so much pain, and my mother has to bring me dinner.

I feel guilty that I cannot find an innovative way to end suffering in the world, that I cannot heal everybody, that I cannot save everyone.

I feel guilty now that I have realised I'm not a superhuman.
(But I've also come to realise that being human in itself is a very powerful thing -- which very few people recognize and practice in their lifetimes)



I'm blanking out. That probably means my List of Guilt is ending. If I remember more, I'll vent them in the next post.

I don't know if my guilt stems from the possibility that my strong suits failed me. Or from the likelihood that I don't need them anymore but am not sure the world will accept me as me. But then I imagine a world that doesn't accept me as I am, isn't the world I'm meant to live in. Is it then the guilt of wanting to shed the suits and still be considered those things in my own head? Is that even possible? Not sure yet.


I spent most of today in bed, deep in thought. I didn't do much else. So I want to end this post with a positive thought I read online.

"We can all practice beginning anew. 

We can always start over."- Thich Nhat Hanh

Day 4 - The Driver's Seat

A woman's hormones are like a cat. Temperamental. Choosy. Will only play along if you pamper them and succumb to their every whim and wish. And even then, they might blow you off. Just because they don't feel like coming out to play. If you anger them, they will lash out in the worst way possible. Meowr! (I must add here that I think cats are very lovable creatures.)

I missed my period this month. No, I'm not pregnant. No, I don't have any disorder. They just haven't come yet. A major cause is stress. I've learnt this year (as if I didn't have any signals before, that I should have paid better attention to) that stress can screw up your body more than a car shredder can deface your car. I have had regular periods for pretty long, with only a couple of misses that I remember, once a decade, either due to under-eating or over-exercise. I have a Period App on my phone that logs my period cycle and reminds me when my next period is expected. It's very handy. I can even log in what pills I've taken, when I had sex and how I'm feeling emotionally.

My last three periods have been during very stressful times. I had to move houses twice, hauling tonnes of heavy luggage, with a bit of help, up and down flights of stairs. My last period was me running to catch a 22-hour flight from New York to India. This time around, my boyfriend and I broke up a few days before my period was due. I can safely say my ovaries have been sufficiently traumatized. 

This makes me sad. My body is tired and in pain and the medication I'm on is doing its best to get me back on track, but I feel weak, powerless, guilty and frustrated. So much that I find it hard sometimes to get up and sit down, or go up and down a flight of stairs. Of course, it hasn't stopped me, but I do take extra care not to push myself or fling my body around in over-enthusiasm. 

I really thought I'd get my period today. I've been cramping for weeks now, and my legs felt heavier. Let's put aside the moodiness because that's an everyday given. I'm still hopeful it'll come soon. But I have dark moments when I wonder what if they never will? I'm trying not to stay in that dark zone for very long.

Happy observation of the day: I've begun to look forward to the second half of the day. So far, every morning, I've been depressed, sluggish and brain dead. By the time I make my way downstairs for breakfast, I see my mom puttering about her plants and fixing me my morning mug of hot water and some fruits. She enthusiastically suggests activities we could do after breakfast, but I have no energy to do any at all. I am learning to forgive myself for lacking energy. By lunchtime, I gain some strength but am mentally still quite low. Mum goes up for her afternoon siesta and so do I. Normally I would never sleep in the afternoon, but for the past two days, I have enjoyed an hour of deep sleep. Once I wake up, I feel rested. When I go down, I'm raring for some activity. It's this second half of the day, when things begin to happen. And so they did, today.

I finally got to paint. My mom fixed me up with her stash of oil paints, some brushes and palette knives (my weapon of choice), turpentine and linseed oil, and a variety of canvases to choose from. I created a nook for myself under the stairs, where the books and my grandfather's old LPs are stored. It's cosy and private. I had a basic idea and just went for it. It was fun and illuminating. I enjoy painting because I never know how it's going to look in the end. By the end of the day, I was pretty happy with what I made. But I might tweak it tomorrow. 

We then decided to drive out to buy groceries. I haven't driven a car in 2 years, having lived in the US without a driver's license. But it didn't take much for me to get back into the driver's seat. And once I was in it, I just didn't want to stop driving. So we went to the vegatable market, fruit market and a plant nursery. We decided to drive to Johncy's for dinner at the beach. It was pouring and it was high tide. The sea was magnificent, with furious waves lashing at the shore and gusty winds sprinkling sea water on our faces. I could stare at the sea in the rain forever. It's peaceful and comforting, in any avatar. My mother and I walked along the shoreline after a delicious meal and gave thanks to the sea and the sand, for the peace we felt.

I wasn't ready to go home just yet. So we went on a long drive through the empty, dark roads of Goa at night. It was freeing. Mom went crazy taking pictures. Goa at night is just as gorgeous as day. I could have driven all night, all the way to the southernmost tip of Goa, if I could. But I made it to Cavellosim, and that was enough for the first day. 

Being able to drive a car, steadily on Indian roads (with Indian drivers and traffic), tells me I'm pretty stable and calm. It's reassuring. Even if I don't have control over my hormones, I have control of my driving skills and how I react to crazy drivers. This is a powerful feeling - being in the driver's seat (literally and metaphorically). I see myself driving out a lot more.

Looking forward to the second half of tomorrow. :)

Day 3 - Night

10:06pm

Papaya Seeds

Vanilla beans from
home-grown pods

Ate pizza for dinner. Immediately regretted it. Turns out cheese, flour and processed meat aren't the best food to eat when you've been on a healthy diet for very long. There's delivered fast-food pizza and then there's clay-oven-fired Italian pizzas. We need to be reminded of the difference every now and then.

The evening wasn't as dismal as the first half of the day. I went into my mother's garden and helped her plant seeds and trim her ferns. It is truly a magical place, especially because my mother loves gardening and always has oodles of information about any plant I would point to. This is her happy place, and it was a glowing green. Plants make me happy too. They're welcoming and lush. And I can get lost in them.

Maidenhair Fern
(Mum's favorite fern)

Afternoon stroll

Don't watch the film, Young Adult on Netflix. Although Charlize Theron performed well, the film was dark and depressing and non-conclusive. Definitely not what I was looking for. But I had to watch the whole thing because I expected something big to happen halfway through it. It didn't.


Three things I feel good about today:
1. I went up to 50 mid-air squats.
2. The 'Peeno Noir' song in The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt (Season 1, I forget which episode).
3. Nature always accepts me with arms wide open.

Made it through today. Achievement unlocked.

Break Up Song

Funnily enough, this isn't my first breakup with my last boyfriend. I know what you're thinking. Why did she go back to him again, only to be heartbroken again? Love makes us do strange things that seem right to us at the time. That's pretty much all I can say about that. And that I don't regret it. And that it still sucks.

So the last time we broke up, quite messily and tearfully too, I wrote a bunch of songs. I'm a songwriter, by the way. So emotional turmoil is easy money, in a way. My unreleased hits include, "Borrowed Shoe", "I Can't Feel A Thing", "If You Were Here", and others. I guess you get the gist of the song by the title. Don't get me wrong: I don't find pleasure in pain (not this kind of pain, anyway. We'll leave that conversation for another kind of blog). But a wise man in a tweed jacket once told me that a songwriter's job is to bleed emotionally for the public, in the hope they will relate to us, and make our songs and feelings about them (and that's how we make money).

Maybe for this chapter of our long relationship, The Final Chapter, a new set of songs is in order.
Current Song Titles:

"Immature Douchebag"

"Not Strong Enough"

"Lying to Yourself"

"Why Bother?"

"The Asshole Song" (Oh wait, Jimmy Buffet already wrote that one. Worth a listen.)



Maybe I should hold on to the songwriting idea for a little longer. I think the lyrics will flow when they have to.

This is what I've been listening to lately. Not necessarily break-up songs per se. But they distract me from the sound of his voice or his smile and loving eyes or how we ripped each other apart.

1. The Score - Revolution
2. KONGOS - Come With Me
3. Fleetwood Mac - Gold Dust Woman
4. Barns Courtney - Glitter & Gold
5. Flashdance OST - She's a Maniac
6. Franz Ferdinand - Take Me Out
7. Fleetwood Mac - The Chain
8. Rocky II OST - Redemption
9. Blondie - Call me
10. Pat Benatar - Love is a Battlefield (because it is.)


If you have any other songs for me to listen to, I'm open to recommendations.

Poetry for the night (from my stash, circa 2005):

"Twinkle twinkle little pricks,
May your balls be under bricks.
When night falls, so will they
And sink to the bottom of a lake. "

Ground Zero

Here goes. I'm 32 years old. I just got of out a long, serious relationship. My heart is broken. My mind is frayed. And as it were, my body isn't in good shape either. Turns out, being a woman in her 30s has its own complications. I've always been 'on-the-go' and highly functional in my professional life but circumstances have made me pause. To make things more interesting, I'm currently in a transition period I can best describe as: 'Don't-know-where-my-life-is-headed'. I'm scared, lonely, low on self-confidence and a bit dejected.

Let's put aside all the gasps of shock, judgmental raised eyebrows and holier-than-thou faces for now. I am certain this is relatable to a lot of you. This wasn't the picture we had in our minds, when we were kids and time was infinite. We had stars in our eyes, a bright future planned ahead of us and a bag full of hope. Sure, a few small curveballs came our way but we didn't let them deter us. We marched on, hand in hand, songs galore. Then the big curve-bludgeons came. 

Long story short, I've been through this cycle of emotional sludgery before and I know these curveballs are going to keep coming my way, mocking my idea of a 'planned'  (or even 'somewhat structured') life. What's changed for me? I keep getting stronger (and, hopefully, wiser). While I haven't reached the WonderWoman Stage yet this time, today I felt a glimmer of hope. I will reach that stage some day. It's inevitable. 

Until that day, I want to spend every day loving myself a little more. Even if it means appreciating my achievements of the day, however small. E.g. anything ranging from "I got out of bed today" to "I invented a new-something" to "I baked a cake" to "I made someone laugh, and it felt good." I'm up for anything that makes me remember why I deserve nothing but the best life has to offer me. 

So I'm going to commit to posting every day until I heal (or the curveballs win - I'll keep you posted either way).

I'm starting right now with this thought:

"I'm ready to heal."