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 19: Clarinet Concerto in A Major

Today was a giant leap. Today I told my mother it was okay to leave me to heal on my own -- that it is essential for me to go through this part of my journey alone, and to release my past in a safe manner, withoit any residues staining what we have right nowu

This has been a hard decision to make. Not just because she is my mother and mothers want to help (it's in their DNA to feel protective). Not just because my inner demons were in conflict with my outer reality with her, which I had to face everyday. But also because I had become accustomed to that unconditional love I crave so much and I didn't want to let it go. I wanted to feel it just a little longer, like a warm bath you know is going to cool down, so you lay absolutely still so that your body doesn't feel the change in temperature right away. But the bath cools down, and one way or another, you have to get out of the tub or you'll freeze and shrivel up like a prune.

This was hard to communicate and overwhelming for us both. But I'm glad to say our relationship is strong and we can weather through the period apart as well, even though we will both struggle with the change of temperature in the bathtub. I really do love bathtubs. Time to Step. Away. From. The. Ruddy. Bathtub.

As I massaged her feet before she fell asleep, I began to feel scared, uncomfortable and filled with another kind of incapacitating sadness. (I think we've established by now I struggle with depression and anxiety, so any residual "oohs" and "aahs" can squat elsewhere.)

I was recounting earlier today, the great things I've accomplished in my life time, despite struggling with depression or having anxiety attacks. I've been independent financially, lived on my own, had several jobs I excelled at, have educated myself, loved and lost, loved and won, helped others and sought help for myself, created pieces of art, music and literature and... Well, this is enough to get to my point.

In those moments of accomplishing things, of making that first move, the first decision to become all those things, I went back to the source of motivation. It was fear, more often than not. Fear or pain can be great motivators. Ever feel that burn in your stomach? The fire in your belly that launched a thousand bitter poems, some of which sold and made it to some hall of fame? Maybe that's not the best example. But it sounded cool in my head. Heh, I'm beginning to amuse myself.

I thought of major life changing events that made me who I am. The post on Strong Suits makes these more clear. I went back to that thought. Fear of abandonment? Be independent. Fear of poverty? Earn your own money. Fear of being kicked out of the house? Move out and create your own space. Fear of heartbreak? Don't let them in all the way, and leave first. Fear of not being good enough? Be brilliant. Be excellent. Be talented and skilled. Be proud of who you are.

Okay, the results haven't been all too bad, and I'm not complaining about them at all. And there have been some happy decisions too. I'm pretty happy with my achievements and aware of the decisions that limit me. But what I'm realising now is how I motivated myself to get there. I operated out of some great life-changing traumatic experience that pushed me to create a happier and more secure life. Have I been subconsciously seeking despair to move forward? Has it become a nasty habit like popping blackheads on your nose? (Totally unnecessary, by the way, for those who do this ghastly thing)

Now I am faced with something quite extraordinary. My relationship with my family is harmonious. I'm fairly financially secure. I am independent and on the verge of setting out again on my own. I'm on a dating website where I am appreciated, intrigued and entertained. I'm still talented, brilliant, excellent, beautiful etc. But the next step is hard to take. The step to move on. Move forward. There is no burn in my stomach. No fear of abandonment. No traumatic experience that launched a million song (seriously, that ex-boyfriend has had his quota of break up songs, and I'm over it now). There is The Past. And I'll get past it, in time. But right now, there is no hate. No fire. No calamity for me to need to be a superhero.

There is love. Compassion. Happiness. Security. Support. Space. And I realised I hadn't really ever made a decision or big move out of those things. Not nearly enough times to get used to it anyway.

I'm not looking for sympathy. This isn't my sad, mopey story of suffering and I want flowers and adulation. I'm in awe of this process of evolution, through the trials and the triumphs. I'm in wonder of how these thoughts pass through me at different stages of my life.

Coming back to the point, I am afraid to leave the nest I have left so many times before, because this time I don't have to. Nobody is kicking me out or saying I don't belong here or making me feel like I'm a burden. I'm actually leaving with the desire to pursue greatness with strong, healed, brilliantly coloured wings. I'm seeking to flap them with confidence, with pride, with security and with self worth. And I'm at the edge, from where I get lift off, with my loved ones supporting me, standing behind me, even silently smiling and cheering me on, with glowing pride and faith that I can do this. They will miss me but they will always, always be with me, in my heart.

To jump when I don't have to, but can if I want to, knowing I'll either fly or freefall, but I will be loved either way.

That's a big one.

I'm letting the idea sink in, while I listen to Mozart's Clarinet Concerto in A Major (something my doctor prescribed for me today). I must say, this piece does have some magic in it. And it makes me feel like I can glide over hills and mountains, survey the land with the wind in my face and blessings in my feathers. I'm going to hear this piece every night before I sleep. Doc also said I need to stop taking apart every thought I feel and looking beyond myself. Seems to be the order of the week. Ha ha.

To my family, my close friends and well-wishers, thank you for getting me to the edge and being patient with me, till I start to flap my wings again.

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 15: The Shift

18/08/2018

Today has been very special (apart from being my brothers birthday). I have so much to say, yet I cannot find the words. Maybe the details are only meant for me to feel within me and some day I'll be able to share it in words.

I am reminded of the day I met Tata Vega, one of my idols, last year. The voice that sang, God is Trying To Tell You Something, the voice that sang to my heart, the voice of the Universe, who spoke back to me. That day was very important because the Universe sent me a message, a response: "I'm on the right track and I'm going to be okay."

Often, when I'm low or in a dark place I have felt like ending my life or at least praying for death to come to me. I know I sound morbid, but it is what it is. And I know I'm not the only one in the world who thinks like this. Clearly, death hasn't come. So I began to pray for something else:

"Dear Universe, if it is my time to go, take me now, and I will gladly follow you. But if it isn't, please help me. "


Today the Universe spoke to me and held me. I feel full of this cotton pillow softness. I fell into a deep sleep. I felt a shift within me. I felt understood and anchored. I felt known in a way I haven't known myself in a very long time. And even though my future is uncertain, it doesn't matter anymore. In this moment, in the now, I have some purpose, something to think about that is beyond suffering. A roadmap, maybe. Or maybe just an idea to explore. An idea, after all, is the beginning of everything.

I cannot tell you what happened exactly, or who I met or what was said. What I can say is the wind was dancing, it rained, then the sun shone and the leaves rustled. All in the span of a few hours. Nature was happy and rejoiced. And the Universe held me.

I am so grateful and moved. I cannot wait for my life to begin again. I hope this carries me forward. I think it will. Slow and steady, Tulsi.

For you, everyone who reads this, everyone who's going through something, or isn't going through anything but is just here with me and even for those who are far away somewhere: May you be happy. I am grateful for you and your presence. And I love you.

🙏

Day 12: One step forward

Today, after a long time, I felt an iota of improvement during my anxiety attack this evening.

I could feel it coming, as my mother was driving us home. I was filled with dread no matter how beautiful the lush green fields on either side of the road were, no matter the breeze from the sea nearby, no matter the peace and quiet of our neighbourhood. The dread reached the pit of my throat and began to expand dangerously. I could feel it and began to take deep breaths. I waited for my mother to park, bit could not leave the car immediately. I needed everything within and around me to be still, including my mother. 

I made small movements, like my therapist taught me, first with my toes, then my fingers. I couldn't breathe. I kept feeling like I'm being suffocated by invisible hands. Tears fell involuntarily from my eyes. But this time, I fought to breathe. I tried to sit up straight to give my lungs space. It didn't help. My arms and fingers tightened up. I didn't scream or cry openly this time. I was focused and determined to breathe. I crouched forward into my lap, folded my hands in prayer, with my thumbs to my forehead and said under my breath, "Help me".

A song started playing in my head. Then another. And I wanted more. I managed to mutter to my mother to sing for me. Anything. It didn't matter. Just sing. And so she did. And as her voice carried through the car and the light breeze passed through my window, my breathing stabilized. I slowly lifted my head from my lap. I looked in front of me and saw the cars dashboard. I focused on its color, shape and design. Somehow, my hand broke loose from it's frozen, contortion position and crawled up to the dashboard. I began to run my fingers along it and breathe better. I looked left and right and began to expand my view. My other hand began to move and I began to sit straighter. I forced myself to look at my surroundings and remind myself that I am *here* and nowhere else. That I am safe in this space. That I am in the present. That I can and will breathe. And so I did. 

As my mother finished singing, I was sitting upright, with my hands, relaxed in my lap. My body was completely exhausted, but that expanding lump in my throat had disappeared. 

I know I need more help, and I am going to seek it. 

But for the first time, I had some control over myself and it gave me hope. 

Also my mother has a beautiful voice and it can uplift the darkest spirit. 

Activity for the day: my mother introduced me to a photo-editing software app called SnapSeed. And I learnt how to use the double-exposure filter. I'm pretty excited about this, because I have a theme for my first music album and this works well within it. 

'Ajna'

Day 8: Eight Laps

I wanted to write a post about guilt today, but I've had a major anxiety attack this evening and have zero energy to introspect at the moment. Safe to say, a load was lifted, but another one took its place. I'm dealing with it and will address it soon.

Today, I did 8 laps and a 45-minute meditation session in the pool. I befriended my chakras, and told them it is safe to blossom. It felt wonderful.

I also went through the last two years of music I have created, sung or been a part of and remembered that I am gifted. It felt good to see myself sing and smile and fearlessly emote through music. I feel blessed and fortunate that I have been chosen by the universe to channel and spread this beautiful energy. May I always be worthy of the music.

I like how my face glows when I'm in love. I hope I can feel that glow again some day. 

Day 6: Kiri-kiri

Today was a very busy and eventful day. And I was looking forward to writing about it tonight. But after a long time, I had a massive breakdown in my bedroom. 

I couldn't hold it in any longer, and screamed and sobbed my heart out into a pillow, while my mother sat next to me. All the anger, hurt, frustration, fear, sadness and pain just tumbled out without warning. It felt like the earth was shaking beneath me, and I was caught in a hurricane. All the feelings I was trying to distract myself from, suppress or rationalise in the hope of being a 'better human being', just raced out of my throat and into the universe. It was a cry from so deep within me, what came out felt like it made straight for the core of the earth, if you can imagine it. My mother let me vent. She believes it's better to let it out than keep it inside. I sobbed for every ache in my body, my heart and my soul. I cried like a child and begged my mother to never leave me, never die on me, never stop loving me (all the things a child is afraid of). In those 15 minutes, I became a 4 year old and she held me so tight, I felt like I was glued to her. It was the most secure feeling I have felt in a very long time. 

When I calmed down, I lay my head in her lap and sniffled. She ran her fingers gently up and down my back. This is something she used to do to me and my brother when we were kids. It's strangely soothing and relaxing and even though I'm easily tickled, this makes me feel light and sleepy. She calls it, 'kiri-kiri'. I feel blank now. 

So tonight, I've composed a tune on the ukulele I bought earlier today. It's the music that plays in my head when my mother runs her fingers up and down my back. My first time on a ukelele. Happy notes. Just what I need. Let's see if I can build on this tune over the next couple of days.

Kiri-kiri

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. "