Home

I have known many homes in my lifetime – there was my childhood home – fraught with conflict. Home in my heart, home in the heart of hearts. My first loving home was AKU, in the rooms of my friends those walls will always reverberate with everything that we have experienced together, all of us there, all together. That was my home. Then I had another home, it didn’t last very long. And now I have another and will soon have another. It seems to me that all homes are meant to be transitory, I leave them when the time comes, but I think of them. Memories of some give me the warmest comfort in coldest of winters. Others make me cry with sorrow filled with loss. And yet, they all were homes I think.

I have spent my life feeling Hiraeth. It is the most beautiful word I can think of. But it is my home. Every moment has been my home, every heart every soul. I have inhabited different homes, I have felt at home in different ways in my own body, so how can I ever want my home to be the same? It is like the body of the phoenix – bound to change at every cycle, carrying the ashes of its past always and forever, because that is what makes it unique. The footprint of all the ashes of all its cycles are embedded in the phoenix’s wings – they give it color and they give it flight. Who am I to say that home is to remain constant? When my own body is bound to change, the seasons of change have never stopped so who am I to want them to stop. I can just see them pass by.

Hiraeth. Except I have always been home. 

Recomposed by Max Richter - Vivaldi - The Four Seasons, 1. Spring

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DLDvbnK_Sqk)

Broken Records

Break ups feel like a broken record

I miss it. I miss all the times we were so madly in love, nothing could tear us apart. Not even the distances. It was us against the problem. It was us, even with no end in sight. We spent most of our time on our phones with each other, not really trying to make it work because it all felt so effortless. I miss that. I miss being in love. I miss the feeling of warmth and love that you get, just by looking at your partner. I miss that.

But here is also why we broke up - I miss being in love. I don't miss being with him. Because being with him also meant being with all the uncertainty, all those feelings of disgust and betrayal every time he would promise something and then not come through. That feeling when he backed out of my graduation, that is what really cemented the fact that I lost all my love and respect for him.

Khair, this is how you know right? Things happen and a relationship either stands the test of time, or it does not. So I don't think I wish for him. I wish for love which can withstand the pressures of time and change.

It is interesting falling out of love. You don't even know it is happening, and then one day something happens that makes you look at the big picture. You start looking at how the relationship had been ebbing away, eroding at the edges with every false promise made; with every lack of effort; with the constant desire to be in a place where we can't be; to be promised support that never comes through; to just not hold weight to your own word; to feel disrespected and hurt every time he made an excuse for why he did not come through - everything anything, all pointing towards how we just shouldn't be together.

Break-ups suck. Break-ups sound like a broken record. But even broken records played so beautifully once. And that is what you miss right? The times when it played so beautifully, so effortlessly to the rhythms so naturally ingrained within it.

Maybe the anger will also go away with time. The anger at him, at how I wished he made a little more of an effort, that he was a little braver, more maturer to stick it out till the end. But I know that anger will dissipate with reason - knowing all too well that maybe the circumstances just weren't optimum from the beginning, that we just were not meant to stay together beyond the time that we were. Differences in our personalities, in our approaches to life and the effect we had on each other.

It was good until it wasn't.

I miss us talking for hours, not knowing where the time went. I miss hearing his voice so that it brings me comfort and joy. I miss all the times we laughed and joked around, and how he made fun of me, and how I could be dramatic, and how just gave me so many virtual kissies, he would just tell me that he loved me. I miss him telling me that he loved me so much, and I miss loving him more than anyone I have ever loved. I miss trusting him; I miss feeling like he has got my back; I miss just being with him. I miss those moments of connection, those minutes we spent looking in each other's eyes with love so pure, so unbothered by everything that was to follow.

Break-ups are like broken records. And I miss loving him. Break-ups are bittersweet.

Song: To the Girl With Red Converse

The Ever Afters

Well, I graduated.

So much went right and so much went wrong, but all that seems to matter is that right now I am sitting with my beautiful, soft, warm and furry catto - Tofu, and I have La Vie en rose playing. Its cold, but I have a warm bed in my own apartment to keep me warm.

Song: La Vie En Rose

You and I
We dance under the moonlight
I wish for you
I wish for all the right things
I wish for all the things
that couldn't have gone wrong
I now know I will never have you
we feel more distant, torn apart
So close to breaking
Stretches of distances
Have snapped open
The recoil hurts
I cant keep stretching
Love is suffering
But it cant be this much apathy?
It wasn't supposed to be easy
It was supposed to be forgiving
How does it become the one thing
Which I have to let go of
To ease the discomfort of every day
Wasn't there a promise of comfort?
a promise of safety in your arms?
How have the things you say and do
Become so hurtful?
How did all the love I have
Evaporate into thin air?
How could I feel everything
And yet, nothing?

You and I
We keep dancing
I wish for you
I wish for all the right things
I wish for all the things
that couldn't have gone wrong
I wish for the end.

Do I put this out there?

I want to write more and I want to keep writing. I want to write and write and write until I once again start feeling like myself again, like I wasn't just a fragment of my own being.

And I just don't want to write about what is happening in my life. I want to write about what I am feeling and thinking, not about things that are happening in my life, but about things that are just out there untouched, that used to be a part of my thought processes. Like listening to songs and writing about how they made me feel.

There are more things out there but what are those things?
How do I find myself again? Do I go travelling? Put myself at that discomfort and see if I can discover myself in the process? Or do I just stay put, hoping something will happen?

I am feeling a little better, every day.

Though I wonder if they could have made the medicine a little less bitter.

To smell the Flowers

As I sit in my room which I refuse to light up because for some reason I prefer the calmness of a dark room, I think back to what my first year Urdu HASS teach Sir Asif Aslam Farrukhi had said in our last class together.

He said,
"Don't forget to smell the flowers"

I understood him, albeit differently than I understand him now.

Back then, I thought he was talking about the importance of just smelling the flowers, being in tune with nature and being in tune with your own humanity. It felt like it was a choice that we will have to make, and I was ready to do it. To spend a moment with my humanity, as an add on to all the other things that I will indulge in to sustain my life.

But today, as I sit in my room recovering from a particular dip in my life, I feel his words differently. I have mostly been curious as to how it started. When and how did my dip start? Always pays off to have a virtual boyfriend who can be your mirror and sounding board. I was venting out to him and he simply said,

"Its when you started spending all your time only studying babe."

It made sense. It was all gradually going downhill, maybe inevitably, when Bilal's bike broke down and I did not have something to look forward to on my Sundays. Those hours that I kind of looked forward to talking to my virtual boyfriend also became uncertain and boiled down to weeks of absence, because well, such is life, and my days off just became days that I was still worried about things. And then came exam season, and I took my free days away from me.

In conclusion, I lost myself.

I lost myself bad. Everything that I loved and held close to my heart, everything that was me, I kept putting it off because "I had to study". I put all my eggs in this one basket, and the hopes attached to that basket just kept increasing, I was hoping that this one basket will give me the validation that I needed, my expectations just kept rising, and in the end, the basket crashed under the weight of my own expectations.

I wasn't writing, because I didn't have the time. I wasn't reading, because no time. I wasn't practicing Spanish like I wanted to I just wasn't doing much.
And so I think my mind and body started rebelling. It had to come to this point for me to realize what I had been doing to myself.

Which is why I am sitting in my room reminding myself of what Sir Asif Farrukhi had said four years ago,

"Don't forget to smell the flowers"

And right now, I feel like it was never a choice that I had to choose from. It was a need. An inherent need to connect with my humanity, without which my soul (if I may) will rebel. It will act out against the deprivation that I was inflicting upon it.

I don't know how I will continue from here, but I do know that maybe realizing this much about myself is tiny steps towards feeling better. I don't know how I will manage, or what I will do, or how I will think, but I do know that right now, I just need to slow down, and smell the flowers.

A Radical Notion

Well, it's been quite some time since I last wrote.

It feels good coming back to this blog. Right now, when I feel like I am only a remnant of what I used to be as a person, it feels good to come back to something that I used to do, that made me feel good.

What I have been so far, I probably shouldn't discuss. I have done enough of that in the past few weeks, with myself, and everyone around me. Maybe it is time to start doing new things all over again.

I am a loss to see what will come ahead, but I guess I can also be curious about it. I am familiar with the darkness before sunlight.

Anyways, I don't think I came back here to indulge in some real life banter. I am here to reminisce about times gone. When I stressed and worried but it feels good to think about those times because they are gone.

I miss Mr. Monty to be very honest. It was quite a treat to be so in love with him, and to grasp on to him in times of despair as my only source of happiness. Mr. Monty was good to me. It feels good to remind myself of what I was, of all the things that I have forgotten.

It feels good to be back. It feels good to indulge in myself. It feels good to hear myself again.

Maybe I should listen to a song and write about it like I used to. Let's give it a try and see if I still got it huh? I want to feel that joy again

Song: The Sound by 1975

Tap, tap, tap
the music is on
I see your head bobbing
I see your shoulders moving
Grab my hand
Let's, you and me,
rock to this band
Let's, you and me,
move in unison
Let's, you and me,
laugh and dance
This dance floor
was built for you and me

It felt good to indulge in this. To listen to a song, close my eyes and see what it makes me feel and think and then write about it. It feels good to have this little space where I can unapologetically be myself and just do something that is not means to an end. I am doing it just because I am doing it.

It is only becoming apparent to me that I lost myself - in my studies, in my work, in my worries for the future, in everything. But one can't do that for very long without having your insides scream at you. This one, this time, yet again, was me telling myself that I am ignoring myself. I am not exactly sure how to rebuild myself or what I will do tomorrow, or how I will go about things, but maybe something else is to come, which requires me to feel this way for now. And it will be okay I guess.

I will indulge a little more in me. That much I know. Read books for sure.

Of Cauterized Human Flesh

The more time I spend in the field of medicine, the more I respect it. 

Who said it was easy to bear the smell of cauterized human flesh?

Or work eight to eight?

Or make sure that your patient is not left wanting for anything?

Or stand long hours giving another human the best chance of survival?

Or breaking bad news?

Or knowing that despite knowing all that you do, despite learning all that you have learnt, you still have limited power in controlling the outcome of your patients well being?

Or learning to maintain the delicate balance between compassion and apathy to preserve your own being just so you can do all this again the next day and again and again?

But I wouldn't have it any other way.

On Melancholia

There is this thing about learning from a young age, that you are not entitled to happiness, It's very melancholic and very sombre. That, I imagine to be the true form of life. I envy the joys of not growing up with this melancholia, but I also know that it hits everyone one day or another. I just don't know how beneficial it is to get hit by it at a younger age: does it equip you to deal with melancholia much better later on in life, or does it just increase your exposure time to it in this lifetime?

 It gets overwhelming at times.

There are periods of decreased melancholia to balance out periods of severe melancholia. Perhaps that is an unfair way to describe it. Maybe a more fair way to describe it would be to say "There are periods of stable joy to balance out the periods of melancholia" because even though I currently feel overwhelmed by it, I cannot deny myself the recognition of the times when I felt stable joy and peace.

The reminder of this balance in life is important, especially now, when I feel so overwhelmed by it. And I know that I am overwhelmed because it is manifesting itself by a questionable belief that I have ALWAYS felt like this; that it has ALWAYS consumed me.

Isn't it strange to be so consumed by melancholia momentarily that you forget what it felt like to not be consumed by it? How can it, and why even does it, have to power to be so consuming? So completely enveloping that you forget every other moment of joy that you have ever felt?

I am told that in moments like these only you can give yourself hope. True. I can. And I do believe that I am now better equipped than I ever was to not let it fully consume me. I am just surprised by the momentary power of it. I can work to reverse it's effects, but the power it has, I just want to take this moment to acknowledge it.

The One That Externally Validates

I was scrolling through snapchat (if "scrolling" is what you do in snapchat) and I came across this gem and it immediately felt SO GOOD to read these. SO. GOOD. It feels nice to know that these feelings and expectations are real and it is not a construct of my brain looking for attention (yes I know thinking like this is complete bullshit, but this self-stigma is always there and almost always accompanied with guilt)

P.S: It's not exclusive to your potential suitors only. It's for everyone.

http://www.refinery29.com/how-to-date-someone-with-mental-illness#slide-1

Here are some of my favourites:

Special emphasis on "IF I COULD MAKE IT BETTER, I WOULD HAVE. I DON'T LIKE LIVING LIKE THIS"

I also like "When there is time to relax, my stress evaporates". Makes me glad I'm going home for eid.

I started reading my old posts and goodness gracious me I got through FSc. If I can get through FSc, I can get through this. I WILL get through this. This is NOTHING as compared to FSc. I WILL GET THROUGH THIS. I WILL STUDY FOR MY SECOND YEAR MBBS PROFF IN TWO WEEKS AND PASS THE EXAM. I HAVE DONE FSC HOW DARE I THINK I WON'T PASS THIS?

You know that's the effect of having super competent and smart-ass people around me all the time. Obviously I can't be as good as they are, I just end up feeling like I am not doing much at all, which is not true. I'm glad I have this blog so I can go back in time and see how I have gotten through some stuff, so I'll be able to get through this too.

The One With The Inability To Function

Well okay. Let's talk about this one.

Loss of ability to enjoy things. Loss of interest in things which usually interest me. Tired. Stressed out. Can't do much, not because I feel like I don't want to, but because honestly, I just can't bring myself to do it. Not liking waking up in the morning and lamenting the fact that I can't spend the entire day sleeping in oblivion. Feeling of heart constantly sinking. Feeling of sadness emanating from the core of my being. Constant reminder of all the past shit-ass experiences. Guilt over the fact that maybe it's my fault that I'm not doing enough (kind of enforced by people when they tell me that I need to change the way I think).

You know what sucks? I don't want to be like this. No one would want to be like this. I would have liked to just be able to study and get good grades and enjoy life. No one would choose to not be happy and satisfied with life without a solid reason. And it kind of sucks when people tell you to "do it differently and do it right" or "try a new approach to life".

The truth is I have tried things. I tried what my counselor suggested: study a little and achieve your tiny goals per day so the rewarding system in your brain is activated and you start enjoying your studies again. Tried it over and over again. I am still unable to achieve the ultimate goal: develop a momentum and start studying properly again. It's been more than three weeks and believe me it's not that I haven't tried. I have tried getting away, I have tried "changing the way I think" or "my approach" to life.

Yes I do believe it is stress induced. But I don't like the pattern associated with it. I don't like how sometimes I can manage things so well but the other times I just can't bring myself to do it. I don't like how when I am in a proper state of mind, I can just do things so easily and calmly but when I am not, then the smallest of tasks become the hardest thing to do in this world.

But of all these things, I just don't like how everyone just gets into a conciliatory position and recommends the changes I should make in my schedule, in the way I handle things and the way I think. I get it. They are just trying to help. But no. I don't wan't that. It always makes me feel worse. I know people are just trying to "push me into achieving better goals" but sometimes, you don't need the "push to achieve better". You just need the encouragement that whatever you are doing is more than enough for someone for whom just getting up from the bed is the hardest thing to do. You need encouragement that it is a HUGE deal that you got out of bed today. You don't need a constant reminder of how you "have to get out of bed and do other stuff". This is one of the reasons I choose to seclude myself from people when I am feeling like this.

Ultimate dream: Someone just comes up to me, hugs me, and tells me that they know I am trying my best to work with what I have and that it is not my fault that I feel this way, but what ever I am doing, I am managing well. I don't feel like this because of a lack of trying. I feel like this because unfortunately, it's what is happening inside my head. I am trying my best, I honestly am. I am not a lazy irresponsible person and honestly, I love studying. I enjoy it so much. But right now, I just can't bring myself to do it.

I am glad that I have become more self aware, thanks to my past experience with depression. Atleast now I can figure out the signs and symptoms and be kind to myself.

One other thing that is currently happening is, wait I don't know how to put it into words. Okay. The realization that people can't help you. I already have a profound understanding of this that only you can help yourself. But this knowledge brings a certain feeling of loneliness with it. I have some amazing friends who make it easier for me to deal with such things, but I know currently they are all busy studying themselves. So it's equal parts I don't want to bother them; they can't really help much anyways and that I can't keep bothering them again and again anyways. See here is the thing: it's like such states of mind force you into seclusion with such thoughts. In my content state of mind, knowing that I have such amazing people around me makes me so happy but right now, it doesn't contribute much to my happiness because I don't see the point of it. This one is slightly hard to explain because I can see them trying to be good friends and it always makes me happy, but that happiness is always momentary. So it's not that people around me aren't doing enough. It's just that there is something wrong in my head.

So that's what it's like inside my head right now. It feels good to put a piece of me out there for the world to see (nods to the imaginary fan base) in a private, yet not-so-private way. It "momentarily" feels good to share. I guess the hope here is that maybe someone out there will understand and relate to what I'm currently feeling and maybe someone will tell me that it will be okay. I know it will be. It just always helps to get it validated from someone outside my head. And maybe if there is someone out there who happens to feel the same way, it'll be nice if they can relate to it too. That's it for today then.

Hambuga'

This one goes out to all my followers; my source of strength; my imaginary fan base:

Thank you for your constant support and encouragement. This blog would not have achieved the popularity heights had it not been for you guys keeping up with my life with such unadulterated enthusiasm. Keeping Up With The Kardashians? No. Keeping Up With The Blog.

You guys do best what you are meant to do - be imaginary. And for that, I thank you guys!

Lots of love.

Hay Storms and Jonnah's Hill

The story is as old as human existence itself: I'm not studying when I am supposed to be. It's okay though. My councillor advised me to take it slow and easy and that is what I have been trying to do, but I'll start with something tiny tomorrow. Today, I feel like reconnecting with my avid readers, who I feel like I can safely say now, are also my imaginary fan-base.

There is this weird joy in publishing something out there for the world to see but no one sees it. It an out-there-yet-private kind of a thing. It's strangely comforting. Like I am sharing a part of myself, but with complete privacy.

I have started "lol-ing". Worst thing ever. You know why? Because I'm not actually "laughing out loud". I should start using "MS" - mildly smiling instead. Totally making this my new thing now.

Hmmm. Let's see. I have nothing much to widely proclaim to my avid readers today. Let's look around shall we?

I really want to talk about depression but I feel like I won't be able to do justice to it. It's something so delicate and intricate that I want to give it my proper effort. So maybe not right now. Maybe some day in the future.

My back hurts. Nothing some yoga can't fix though. I'm eating a pear. This time around the fruit guy I order from sent bigger fruits so that's nice. Usually the fruit is tiny.

Why am I talking about this? Because it is my responsibility to entertain my fan base. I kind of miss randomly ranting about the love affair beween Mr. Monty and myself. Ah Mr. Monty. How I miss you.

Saw princess diaries yesterday with a friend. Most awful thing ever. Though I liked the ending - how she ended up not marrying because being a queen > finding a lover.

I really do want to randomly rant on for longer. I feel like this is the first time I am completely babbling non-sense. Usually I have some sort of a purpose to my blog posts. Ah well.

I must bade thee farewell now.

Todaloos!

Cringing

It always feels so awful when I'm reading my old blog posts. It positively cringe-worthy honestly. I expect to look back and think "wow the past me was so articulate" but nope nope nope. It's just the worst thing ever. I wish I had that fluidity in my words like everyone else does but nope again. It's a blundering embarrassing collection of loosely joint words trying too hard to express what I felt. *sigh* I need to work on my writing skills.After all, I don't want to disappoint my massive fan-base amiryt or AMIRYT? *crickets chirping*

The one about Gratitude

This one is for you guys, because I want the whole world (i.e my blog’s massive fan base i.e my imaginary avid readers) to know how you all fill me with complete gratitude. More importantly, I want to remember this moment forever because in this moment, I know, that I am surrounded by something too beautiful to be captured into words.

Thank you for letting me sleep with you and thank you for hugging me through the night; thank you for letting me come over and thank you for feeding me so good; thank you for asking bout me; thank you for caring enough to give me your time, your concern and your love; thank you for forcing me to go out. I felt like it wouldn’t matter but it did matter and it did make things better. Thank you for helping me get through this; thank you for making me believe how incredibly lucky I am and thank you for making everything worthwhile. You guys make it easier for me to reach out when it feels like the hardest thing to do in this world. Just when I start feeling how, at the end of the day, we all have to deal with everything ourselves, you guys are there to let me know, that people can make it easier for you. I hope that my friendship can give you the comfort your friendship has given me.

I lost my feelings there for a bit, but now I can feel the full force of one primary emotion: gratitude. I want you all to know that in this moment, you made someone feel thankful for their life and that counts more than any other thing in this world.

The loss is huge, the grief consumes us all,
The legacy he left behind, oh how will it stand tall?
Our mourning ends at “Pray for him”
We forget that now, his bargain is only with Him
More in need than your words and prayers,
Is a child looking for someone who cares,
Just look around, there is no time for tears,
There’s a world full of hardships, a world full of fears,
So don’t throw your words around as if you truly mourn,
Loss of a man, the most human ever born,
You are the same, you can do it too,
You have the same powers, you are human too.

It feels slightly childish to write with such simplicity and directness about something so impactful and someone so great, but simplicity feels okay.

Scars

This Huffpost article:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/women-bare-their-scars-to-reveal-the-beauty-in-imperfections_us_55db32f1e4b0a40aa3ab6ae5

I love it so much. I loved how they called them "battle scars" just like I do.

I have two scars which have significantly changed my life. I have acne scars which I have talked about before, and then I have this ACL Ligament Repair surgery scar on my left leg. I haven't really talked about it so here I go.

I got this scar on 5th June, 2015. It was an ACL Repair surgery and it was way way way easier said than done. I don't want to go into too many details of the actual operation and everything , but I do feel like discussing the impact it had on me.

It made me understand by personal experience, how hard chronic pain is to deal with. How it drains you of your mental strength. It made me understand all the things that I knew, but never understood before. Like, the effect chronic illness has on you life. It made me understand pain profoundly. I used to be fearless when it came to thinking about being sick or experiencing pain, but now I know it is not easy.

It made me understand how hard it is to function without even one of your limb properly functioning. It helped me see how we have built this world to accommodate only those who are physically perfect.

It made me understand the fear and loneliness that comes with being left alone when you are in pain and this lesson is the most painful of them all. I got to experience betrayal and selfishness in friendship at that time. Those I cared so deeply for, did not even give a second thought to me when I was in so much pain. It's been a year and thinking of those people still fills me up with complete disgust. Those cowards who could not, even for a minute, get their heads out of their asses and see that a friend needed them. Those selfish apathetic assholes.  Thinking about it still makes me angry. They proved that they were an amalgamation of all that I absolutely despised in humans - cowardly, selfish, apathetic with no sense of loyalty.

I know, that a year ago, if I had read a paragraph about human betrayal, I would have read it and would have forgotten about it. But now if I read something like this, I understand that the emotional scars inflicted by betrayal and loneliness are extremely profound. They always stay with you and the pain caused by them cannot be calibrated or be understood by anyone who hasn't been through a similar experience. So I'm glad that I got this experience because now I understand a bit more than I used to.

I was someone who believed that as long as you are good to other people, they will be good to you. But this scar showed me that you should never keep giving to people who don't deserve it. Save yourself and give your energies to those who deserve it. To those who have proven themselves worthy of being your friend. Maintain your distance form everyone else. Maintain your distance form those who pretend to be your friend. The signs are always there. Learn to listen to your gut feeling when it comes to trusting people. It is a result of this that not only have I completely distanced myself from those shitheads, I have also redefined my friendships. There were people who I called my best friend that I have evaluated as people who make absolutely no effort to be a friend and there are those who pretend to care but don't so I decided to distance myself from them. I can now appreciate kindness and empathy in people in a way that I have never done before.

I have also learned that life has a way of balancing itself out. The despair you experience will get balanced out with the happiness you might feel one day (exhibit # 1: the shitty time I spent while I was doing my FSc vs. my life here at AKU). The previous summers were balanced out by me getting a chance to be friends with the most amazing, most kind, most considerate, most encouraging, most understanding, most selfless people in my batch. I love them with all my heart, but most importantly, I am extremely thankful for having them in my life. I learned that you can judge if you are with the right kind of people by the way your life feels to you. With my previous "friends",  I was always full of doubt, I was scared and depressed. But these friends are like a ray of the brightest most beautiful sunshine after a storm. They encourage me, they love me, they support me, they listen to me, they EMPATHIZE with me, they make me stronger but most importantly, they drive me to be a better person because they themselves are so good. They have been there in my recovery from depression and self doubt. I know, that one day, we might not be friends, but in this instant, I want to remember how much they have helped in changing me for the better and that of all the things I actively thank the universe for, these guys are one of them. And it's not only them. I got confidence to do things that I have always wanted to. I traveled across Pakistan and I went on adventure trips all alone, I stood for our student council and won and I did so many other things. Now when I think about it, I know that I needed that scar to be the person I am today.

That scar also made me experience depression first hand. I learned that depression doesn't mean just being sad. It means not caring. And that is worse because if you stop caring, you even stop caring about being happy and content so you just let go. Completely letting go is the most dangerous aspect of depression.

The scar made me fall so low that there was no way but up from there. I was okay with dying and it can't get worse then that. So when I decided to get up one more time, everything that had bothered me all my life, burst out. All the family problems, all the fears, all the insecurities, all the sour friendships EVERYTHING. And it was hard when they came out like that all of a sudden, but what kept me going was that now that they are out, I'll be able to deal with them. That's why, almost a year later, I can sit here and type that in this instant, I am completely content with life. I am thankful for all I have and I still fear the bad times, but I know they will be rivaled with good times. Life is a balance. I'll be okay. I'll have to work for the contentment I have today. It doesn't just come to you when you are sitting idly waiting for life to happen. You have to work to sort out your issues and you have to work to make it better for you.

So that's pretty much it. Feels like a lot for a two inch discolored skin on my knee but my scar tells my coming-of-age story. I struggled because of it but it also made me understand so much. That's why I love my battle scar.

Song: Jamie XX Gosh

She was awake. It took a moment for her to register that she was once again conscious of her surroundings but it was dark. She opened her eyes and felt the sudden intense transition from the comfort of darkness to the agony of a glare so strong that her eyes snapped shut again in rebellion; to protect her from the intensity of foreign brightness. This wouldn't do. She needed to be more visually conscious of her surroundings. She tried again.She opened her eyes but slowly this time. The gradual transition helped ease her eyes into visual focus. It was bright and extremely white. She looked around, It was too bright and too white to be true. She closed her eyes and opened them again, as if such an exercise would wake her from what she presumed to be a dream or a mistake her brain might have made in the process of growing accustomed to her consciousness. It was still the same, Extremely bright and extremely white. She grew more conscious of her body and she looked down. She could get up couldn't she? She tightened her muscles, preparing herself to get up and pushed herself. There was something restraining her because no matter how hard she tried, there was a force which kept her down. She was bound. Bound to what? She suddenly grew conscious of the coldness beneath her. It felt like she was lying on a table. She registered her situation. She was lying down on something cold and was bound to it. What is happening? Why is she bound? Why can't she get up? How did  she get here?

And then it hit her: Looking at the earth grow smaller and smaller. Sun above: it's glare so direct and potent. The mundane life in the spaceship in a realm so unknown to everyone. The red lights and loud sirens. The freefall. The deafening noise. The shadows.

And suddenly the shadow was upon her, It wasn't a shadow anymore. It was livid. She focused more. It had a foreign glow. It was upon her. It touched her. That steely and fiery touch. It looked at her. She looked back. And darkness.

A Lil Bit Of That Ol' Self Lovin

Just watched the entire first season of netflix original "Love"

LOVED the show. It portrayed relationships in what I felt was the most realistic way ever. Many times I felt like I could predict what was about to happen next because that's what usually happens in cliched love stories but it didn't happen that way. For example, that part where Mickey is unsure of their relationship and almost blows Gus off and goes to hang out with her friends, I expected Gus to show up at the same bar and have that awkward exchange where he sees her and walks out of the bar with disappointment in his eyes and Mickey runs after him and tells him to "Stop!" so he stops, turns around and out comes the word vomit of how he is sick of being treated like this etc etc. But it wasn't like that. Mickey hung out with her friends and Gus was at work. There was no drama, It was like it would have been in real life.

But the best part was how initially, it was good. They both were good and happy. And then the cracks start showing up when they go on their first date. How Gus invites Mickey over to hang out with his friends for their music party but she says "that's stupid". That was the crack. It showed it how it is and I loved it. Words matter.

Ugh I'm so glad I saw that show. That's how it is in real life man come on. It's not always care-y care-y love-y dove-y it's real. Real humans have varied interests and sometimes you aren't a complete dick to hurt someone, sometimes it's just some words and expressions. It was real and it was fun, I appreciated it a lot.

Didn't agree with the season finale though. I would have preferred if Mickey would have pushed Gus away and firmly stood by the fact that she needed to be alone to deal with her shit before she could get in a relationship. (Nod to Megan in So Many Partings).

I'm loving this idea man, This idea of being unsuitable to be in relationships unless you have yourself figured out because otherwise it's just disaster. The idea that it is okay to be single and complete yourself. I'm absolutely loving it.

Of Celtic Charms

I just finished reading Cathy Cash Spellman’s “So Many Partings”.

It is one of the most beautiful things I have read in quite a while. It spans almost three generations and uf. The tales of love, life and loss. They fill me up with this strange aged grief of how much a person goes through in one life time. You are born wanting love and then you’re fierce in your youth and then placid in late adulthood because life has done so much already.

This book, especially the ending, has this Celtic charm in it. Like some ancient magic whose secrets are whispered in the winds quietly and tumultuously to those who hear the wind in silence.  It makes me want to cry, but silently and with peace in my heart that life will go on as it wishes, with sorrow and happiness side by side. Makes me wonder, what will I go through in my life time? How many times will a piece of the rebellion against life be stripped away painfully, until only peaceful acceptance at the mundane high’s and low’s of life remain?

I loved it. I loved it all. When Diedre dies and a piece of Tom’s soul is stripped. When he is unable to be a parent to his kids in Diedre’s absence, and they become all that he was not. I especially loved this part because it made me question if Tom had been there for his kids like he was for his granddaughter, would they have turned out different? No doubt they would have. They would have grown up to be like him had he been there to show himself to them. It’s this guilt that stayed with Tom too. And then Megan. It was good to see how getting love, care and attention can make a child what Megan was (Would Tom’s own children would have turned out to be the same had they received the same love, care and concern? Maybe.).

I loved the part in the end where Megan decides that she needs to discover herself before she could love Jack. Absolutely loved it. It was a sign of a child raised in a healthy environment – self-assured, confident and she loved herself enough to want to know herself better. That bit was beautifully written, especially the part where she knows that until she knew herself, she would never be able to love Jack properly because she would have taken himself into her and she wouldn’t know her own worth, which is why she will be unhappy and will always fear Jack leaving her. So for the sake of loving someone completely, she decided to know herself completely. That was beautiful.

Another thing I noticed was this gradual trend of relationships from old to the modern era. Relationships were tad bit more romanticized in the stories of the previous generation. The modern love story, like that of Megan and Jack, was almost practical and focused on realization of self-worth before giving yourself to someone else; Tom and Billy’s relationship was focused on friendship, love which comes from having lived and experienced life together, understanding and being a source of comfort for each other; Mary and Thaddeus’s relationship focused on the willingness to sacrifice, compromise and growing to love each other eventually after having lived together. I liked these modern calmer portrayals of relationships as compared to the tumultuous passion derived relationships like that of Mary and Michael Hartington.

It’s been quite a while since I got absorbed into words. I’m glad I could feel the beauty of it again through this book.