Since the longest time, I haven’t been able to share
anything I write. In fact I haven’t even been able to pull it through to the
end or save them. I type and pen down rampantly as thoughts storm by and delete
half way as I glance at the words I have typed or worse tear the paper down.
My existence to this point has been a disturbing one. I say
disturbing, because I have been living to win, running wildly, putting pressure
on myself to be the best.
If I write I can express the deepest that there is in me but
if its ugly, I fear sharing it. Fear of being judged, fear of not being
accepted, of being questioned, of not being appreciated, the pressure I have
lived with to be IDEAL.
A pattern I have been trending for as long as I can
remember. My need to be the ideal friend, ideal daughter, ideal girl friend,
ideal wife, ideal daughter in law, ideal mother, ideal employee had somewhere
killed who I really I was.
\
Ssshh… not tad bit close to ideal.
Now quickly, I will let out. I have screamed as everyone
leaves and I used to be by myself. I have wept as I drove alone. I have
scribbled wildly as I sat in my company. I have thrown things around in
frustration when no one was around. And sadly I have hurt myself in more ways
than one…
I have to this point found no pleasure as much as I have
treasured frustrations of not being acknowledged for all the freaking effort I
put in.
I write this today, and have promised a friend that nomatter
how shallow, ugly or unacceptable, I will finish what I want to write and be in
peace with it too. A lot to accomplish for a person like me.
You won’t gauge the disappointments I live in if you meet
me. My passion, quite contradictorily is happiness, nomatter what I am doing, I
love being happy and ensuring happiness for the people I am with and as I
mentioned, I run that extra freaking stupid mile to ensure it too.. I don’t
fake happiness, because I haven’t really been happy or content for the longest
time I have known, but day in and day out, I pick on small happiness that I can
foster and embrace till I choke myself.
As I write, I come off desperate, but what the heck! In my
desperation, I have resorted to alcohol, smoking, wandering off in absolute
strangeness. I have gone to a point of bankruptcy to experience happiness as I
gave away money to needy trying to bite off on charity just so I feel happy. I
have been needy, I have been demanding, I have been expecting and I have been
waiting, and waiting and waiting some more…to a point where just like that,
everything just slipped away. All that I was holding onto.
I will share a little story here, prelude of which I have
already given … a year or more back, I was surrounded by family and friends,
but I cant explain the epitome of loneliness I have experienced. I woke up everyday,
feeling empty, feeling unwanted and feeling judged. I still pressurized myself
to be ideal and fight the adversity. Let the unfair happen, I even told my self
a story to convince myself that I deserved the treatment I received. It went
on, being rejected at every effort I put in and being picked on and turned to only when I could be of some benefit.
I felt trapped. I woke up every morning with a new plan to somehow change
everything, feeling exhausted by noon and resorting to a glass of 90 ml whisky,
rum, vodka or whatever I could get my hands on. By afternoon, the spark would
come back to only be gone by evening for me to get on with some more drinking
and smoking. How I managed all that still faking normal is a miracle and a sad
story.
Because I battled loneliness and mastered a happy exterior and
when finally I was freed from it, noone believed I was in pain. Anyway. It went
on for a long time, until one day when the whole thing came crashing down and I
had to live a new life suddenly.
I had a ruined skin surface due to excessive smoking and
drinking and I weighed 18 kgs more than I should have. And I was left to start
anew!
Here is where my purpose of writing would justify. For the
first few days, I lived in denial, felt lonely, cried my heart out at the drop
of hat, but a point came, and thank god it did, where enough was enough.
I woke up one morning, and I ran… for the first few steps
that I did, my feet hurt but I felt my heart beating at an unusual pace, a pace
that begged I continued. I didn’t stop, this was my time to throw away all my
competitiveness. I ran wildly, and I weeped as I did.
Day after day as I ran, I felt layers falling off me, a
sudden weight loss and a new found confidence enveloping around me. I was
getting undone. I was exploring things I had closed shut my eyes to. I felt
good and felt no guilt for it. I met a new person in me and you know what? I
love her!
And even though its abrupt, that’s it. I gotto get back to
exploring and be back on this journey.
