The page I won't let you read

It is now at least three weeks since I have slept properly. 

Even the times when I finally fell asleep, exhausted with all the myriad things I was involved in, it wasn't for more than a couple of hours. 

The thoughts raced around madly. I tried desperately to control them, to rein them in. They were like wild horses on a racing spree. The more I tried, the faster they seemed to gallop. 

At one point I was so exhausted I just wanted to sleep. 

I wanted to shout at the thoughts telling them to stop. I tried shutting them out mentally by closing my eyes tightly. I tried to calm myself by counting sheep as I lay on my bed, trying desperately to fall asleep. 

I wake up every morning and I feel deeply unhappy.

Not depressed, just deeply unhappy.

It is the kind of hollowness that I have never known.

It is a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach which spreads slowly upwards, towards my throat.

It feels like somebody has blindfolded me from behind, has his hands around my throat and squeezing tightly.

I feel angry.

Extremely angry.

There is no logical reason to it, really.

My brain just freezes at times. It is irrational, incomprehensible and terrifying.

I wish to shake it off, but I do not know what to shake off.

One part of me tries to rationalize and speak to myself, but it is drowned in this massive panic I experience.

I sit on my bed and watch the clock ticking.

I feel more and more rebellious with every passing second. 

Simultaneously it feels like I am losing something. 

I cannot put a name to it, but I know it has to be stopped.

I feel Helpless.

I have no idea what is happening. Nothing is happening. Nothing that could be explained anyway.

When I hear myself speak, the voice belongs to somebody else.

All of a sudden, my hands turn icy. The soles of my feet are affected by frostbite it seems.

I just want to sink into the Earth and disappear.

I close my eyes willing whatever is gripping me to go away.

Your average middle-class society does not let one day of your life pass without reminding you constantly that the magic tag of being 'educated' would open many doors.

It has always been my ambition, like the ambition of most young people today - to get into a good college and then have a great career, earn big money and to be independent.

What I hadn't anticipated was that me being so hard on myself would make things a nightmare.

Blackness descends around me like a cloak.

I seem unable to look beyond it.

The rebelliousness is gone but it is replaced by a depressing feeling which makes my heart weigh a ton.

It is a sinking feeling, a feeling that something is just not right, a melancholic, miserable feeling that hangs around me now.

Assure people that I am fine? I cannot. I am not fine.

Feelings are powerful and logic was crushed under its weight. 

I was governed by them, not by logic. 

I was at their mercy and they were unrelenting, harsh and unforgiving.

But that was not on my mind at that point in time, at all. I lay down on my bed in my room. 

I feel empty.

A huge, dark void was inside me now. 

It is like a phantom pain which amputees experience when a limb is cut off. 

The limb does not exist anymore but the pain they feel in that limb which no longer exists is very real. I did not know what to do to relieve the pain. I feel trapped in it. I want it to stop. I want no more of this agony. 

I curl up my fist as tightly as I could and the fingernails dug deep into the flesh of my palm. 

I did it again and again. The deeper my nails dug, the better I felt. 

Then I saw the paper cutting knife which I had bought some time back. I took it and made a small cut on the side of my wrist. I winced slightly as the blade cut the skin and a line of blood appeared. I felt better then. 

Now at least, the pain was real. I could bear this. It was not like the phantom pain which was terrifyingly unbearable. 

I made my way to the bathroom and opened the cabinet which had cotton and Dettol. 

I applied undiluted Dettol directly on the cut. 

It Stung sharply and almost burnt. Oddly, I feel comforted.

“Look Joshita. Just be strong. These are simply thoughts inside your head. You can just snap out of it by controlling your thoughts” 

Oh, how I tried! I wanted to snap myself out of it. I willed it to go away. I tried thinking of happy things. 

I tried calling back my giant creatures and elves with musical hooves. They refused to come to my aid. All that was left now was a huge void and blackness.

I feel I have let everyone down in some way. I start to cry (A habit now). I cannot seem to stop the tears.

What I didn't know is that it is something much larger than any of my advisees and I have envisaged, anticipated or foreseen.

It is the beginning of a sharp curve, a painful detour, a journey that would lead me completely away from my destination, to the edge of a cliff. 

A journey that would almost take my life, destroy me completely, suck the life force out of me and then toss me away as an empty shell.

And the worst part is that it has just begun.

Impulse

The way we live dictates the way others experience us. Head or the heart, such is the perpetually primal dichotomy under which we exist. Which governs you? Are your actions decided by your mind or are you at the beckoning call of your emotions? Both have their positives and their pitfalls, and realistically we are all someone along a spectrum of both depending on the context we find ourselves in. Generally, though we may be polarized as either one. We need both to not just survive but to thrive, but a little impulse (in moderation) can do the body some good. 

"We write for the same reason that we walk, talk, climb mountains or swim the oceans - because we can. We have some impulse within us that makes us want to explain ourselves to other human beings. That's why we paint, that's why we dare to love someone - because we have the impulse to explain who we are." 

Maya Angelou

Going to EDC: Electric Daisy Carnival in November 2016 was an impulse I could not ignore.

Our emotions tell us our truest feelings in their rawest form. 

We learn slowly over time to curb our reactions and bottle up our feelings. 

We're told to think logically instead of trusting our gut. 

Of course, there's some truth and merit to that mindset but it also denies our most basic human instincts - that is to live by our most unbridled emotions. 

What is wrong with saying how we feel? 

Why are we socialized to lie, hide our emotions, and pretend we are okay when we are not?

 Why is our truth a burden and not a gift? 

My favorite book of all time, the one that truly awakened my passion for reading and words is "A Thousand Splendid Suns" by Khaled Hosseini. It is an original young adult novel but is different from all the rest because of the gravity of it. A world without hope, love, colors, etc. seems impossible and yet there are people who just might be living in it. 

There is a movement to unbridle ourselves. 

There are some that want to let go of this unwritten rules of respectability and rewrite what is socially acceptable. 

The natural order is, in fact, chaos - so let it be. 

I wish with every fiber of my being that we could all be free to say what we needed when we needed. 

I wish we let our hearts show. 

I wish we could be liberated in ourselves and one another. 

I wish we followed our impulses.

There is always more beneath the surface. 

It is a sentiment I try to hold near and dear to me daily. 

Whenever something happens, someone says something, or I just cannot figure out a person I strive to remember that there is always more to know. 

Something else is usually going on for them. 

They had some kind of experience that changed them. 

I have no idea what people have been through. 

It's why we have to demonstrate kindness even when others do not. 

We don't know enough, we can never know enough. 

We don't know the impact of our words or actions, for better and worse. 

We have to be bold, courageous, and vulnerable. 

We have to share our truths and then challenge others to do the same. 

It's only when we speak our truths that we begin to know and be known. 

Question authority, the rules, and the way things are. 

What else is there? There has to me more. What's going on elsewhere? What is stopping us for being brave and putting ourselves out there? What are we afraid of? 

Have a moment of bravery and the rest will follow. 

That's how we use our impulses.

Lately, I've been thinking more and more about being impulsive and letting my emotions guide some of my more minor life decisions. 

Basically, if I feel something I'm trying to act on it. 

I abhor the sentiment that we do not realize what we have until it's gone. 

I believe we should cherish things while we are able to know them. 

It's that keen awareness that lets us appreciate the people and things that have in our lives.

 Regret is not a feeling I want to experience often especially when I have the power to avoid it all together. 

If I miss my mom or dad, I literally pick up the phone and call them. 

If they don't answer, I text them a message. 

I save their hilarious voice notes from whatsapp because I love them. 

If I want to just put on my shoes and go for a run, I do. 

If I see someone alone and have the urge to talk to them, I walk over to them and make conversation. 

I see the privilege in those statements - not everyone is able to do so but so long as I am, I am going to take advantage of what has been given to me. 

Things never stay the same - in fact, they are constantly in flux. 

To act is to use moments to your benefit before they slip away. 

Instead of living in the future or the past, I want to live for now - for those around me, and for me. 

I want people to know I care about them (present tense) not wait until they are gone or it's too late. 

It's too important. 

One day we are going to look back on these days and wonder why we were ever worried about anything

Knowing all the times I could have said something to change a situation or just to make a tangible human connection and didn't still gets to me. 

I replay those moments over and over again in my head contemplating why I didn't strike up a conversation. 

I know my biases hold me back or my fears that others may have a prejudice against me.

 Again, none are valid because I cannot always tell someone's position/disposition towards me until I engage them. 

That's all it takes is a little bit of courage and a small bit of hope that knowing someone is going to, more often than not, better than not knowing them. 

How is it possible that we move concurrently in revolving circles, seeing one another pass by, but rarely break from our revolutions to collide? 

I want to change my trajectory at a moment's notice, and simultaneously do the same for others. 

I never know what someone else will teach me about the world, about life, or even about myself.

 Those are all lessons I want to learn though. 

All it takes is a moment of boldness and a little impulse.

Raabta

"I don't believe you ever get closure on anything. Things leave a permanent mark on you."

Allison Anders

Relationships can be fickle.

One day things can be fast and loose; the next, things are radio silent.

Sometimes it's that lightning strike of a connection that disappears just as quickly as it flashed in your life.

Other times it's a blizzard that inundates you for days on end and yet slowly but surely dissipates into nothingness.

The continuity between it all is that at some point that presence is not permanent - fleeting at best.

Why do some people just fizzle out of our lives?

Have you ever watched a sparkler (Phool-jari) burn itself out? There's that initial spark of blinding light, followed by sparks flying in all directions in the most simple and yet spectacular fashion, and soon enough what is left is a burnt carcass of something that used to literally/figuratively light us up.

That's what this whole happening of someone fizzling out of your lives is synonymous with. There's a mutual attraction and suddenly you're talking until the middle of the night, like 3AM, cheesing hard over the mutual love for Jane Austen or Faiz as your Phone casts a blue glow on your face. Every time you get a text message your heart flutters, your face lights up, and you are filled with this inexplicable excitement. They've said something witty and you are more than eager to respond to keep the harmless flirtatious banter going. Somebody taps out eventually and the next day happens.

The conversations are always so enthralling, whether they touch on topics of depth varies, but no matter what you are drawn in.

Then, one person gets busy and stops responding instantaneously.

Interest subsides, discouragement sets in, and that vivacious energy between you before ... all but gone.

You stop talking regularly.

Maybe you accidentally get a Snapchat sent to their entire friend's list. You respond awkwardly before realizing they put it on their story.- impersonal and kind of obnoxious.

Weeks go by, and you see them on Instagram living their life. For a split second, you wonder what went wrong, what they're up to now, and if you should reconnect. Rational thought shadows those ideas and you continue scrolling or unfollow them, never to be heard from or thought of again.

What's the causality of these relationship casualties?

Maybe it's the medium.

Texting, messaging, snapchatting, liking, and the rest.

There's this instant gratification we get from it all.

Does it matter who does it for us or why?

Could be a yes, and it very well might just be a no.

Having people readily available at your fingertips means that access doesn't have the same significance that it used to.

Beyond you know caring about the person you're having a conversation with, there's no incentive to give a damn.

They'll still be there if you text back now or later - unless they won't.

When that shift happens from live responses to whenever you feel like it that inconvenience factor comes into play.

Are they actually busy or are they no longer interested?

What did I say wrong?

You have to know that not everyone puts the same amount of emphasis on the connections we have. You hope people value you as much as you do them but when there's no gravity to the connection it's bound to float away. You have to hold it down, and ground it in something real. You have to talk and meet up in person. You have to set specific dates with times and locations. You have to actually go.

People are complicated.

People are simple.

People are simply complicated and complicatedly simple.

Thinking about why we get so preoccupied with just some people who leave and their aftermath brings up the idea that may we care about having someone to talk to, maybe the who doesn't necessarily matter.

Are we able to flesh out what impacts us so deeply when we fall out of contact?

Is the concern specific to the person or is it the connection itself that we enjoyed?

Making the distinction is important but at the same time maybe the two are inextricably linked. Everybody wants someone to pay attention to them. Those desires come and go. Some people need it more than others. For a while, it feels good to have someone as engaged as you are on the topic of you - and vice verse.

Especially when romantic connections can abound but that one-of-a-kind spark is a rarity. Those sparks oftentimes though are not sustainable. And sometimes there's no plan to keep that fire going.

Unless intentional ways of nurturing the flame and keeping the person in your life are made, it's doomed to fizzle out.

Who is to blame? Does it matter? It's probably both of us. The fizzle is mutual.

In the grand scheme of things, We could take charge and talk about going from daily communication to constantly miss one another. We could ask what is going on and mention how we feel.

Do we like what's going on and want to explore this?

Do we put ourselves out and be vulnerable?

It's all up to us. We have choices in how we act. We can enjoy the connection for what it is or we can cut the cords. We can feel good, have fun, smile a lot, and move on.

But,

"Vulnerability is the birthplace of connection and the path to the feeling of worthiness. If it doesn't feel vulnerable, the sharing is probably not constructive." 

~Brene Brown

There is a constant feeling in our culture that we might be missing out on something better, therefore, we rarely commit to a decision that we can’t back out of if something better comes along. However 

"There's a higher form of happiness in commitment. I'm counting on it." 

~Claire Forlani

Single and Fabulous, exclamation point.

The world we live in is different than it has ever been at any other point in history. The people who live now are existing in a unique time and space. Our beliefs, practices, and cultural rituals have changed over time as well. Things that used to be the norm have now fallen by the wayside. Even the ways that we talk about some phenomena has changed. In this day and age what does it mean to be single, and what does that status say about you? 

"My alone feels so good, I’ll only have you if you’re sweeter than my solitude" Warsan Shire

There's nothing like succumbing to a trend and getting on board with what seems to be a majority of your peers. Dating apps and the medium of social media as matchmakers - what a world to live in. What are you looking for? It seems like such a simple question, complete with pre-made responses for you to select but maybe it's not that easy. Am I on this romanticized the twenties/thirties long journey to find my soul-mate, my perfect match, or my other half? Am I looking for something casual - friends with benefits, Netflix, and chill cuddle buddies, or hooking up? Am I looking for platonic friends, like-minded young people to bond with, or special interest pals to pursue a hobby? I don't know and yet I really do. I'm not looking at all. I'm not in search of anything or anyone other than myself. I'm not in the market to get hitched, jump the broom, or tie the knot. I think I want to love but on my own terms, of my own production, and the kind that can always be with me - not taken away at a moment's notice. I want safety, security, and comfort that comes from me. I want to love me. Maybe I'm not doing this whole single thing, right?

What does it mean to be single? The media portrays us as, according to heteronormative ideals, as hunters on the prowl in search of a mate either for the moment, for a while, or for life. Men are the hunters and women are the hunted - yeah no, that sounds uncomfortably like the disturbing ways in which rape culture, entitlement, and sexism are perpetuated. Queer that binary a bit and apparently it gets even more sexual. Queer folk is portrayed as hypersexualized beings seeking and willing to get NSFW hot and heavy with anyone with a pulse. That's not right either - that continual demonizing and marginalization is both dangerously limiting of narrative and not representative of every experience. Does being single mean constantly clinging to apps like Tinder, OkCupid, Bumble, or Grindr? Is it perpetually looking for the next best thing in an endless pursuit of "the one" while simultaneously disregarding what/who you might already have with you? Is it a quest for perfection or rather an egotistical game to be played with people, their feelings, and their lives? Is being single necessarily a bad thing? The pressures of others around us coupling up, incessant familial inquiries, and a media bombardment of #relationshipgoals, OTPs, and "ships" give us unrealistic expectations of what we should be doing with our single selves. What happens if we turn off all the noise and listen to not our hearts but our minds and bodies?

Does being single equate to being unwanted, undesirable, hell - even unlovable? Are we just damaged goods pushed to the back of the shelf? Are we the leftovers when everything and everyone worthwhile has already been taken? I refuse to believe any of that. Being single can be both my choice and by circumstance. I wish sometimes people spent more time with themselves than with others. Serial dating, constantly going from relationship to relationship, and relying on others for self-worth and self-esteem are not healthy habits. Being single means knowing yourself and clarifying your values before committing to anyone or anything else. It's making sure you still get to be you regardless of who you're with or for how long. It's holding on to you. It's having a fulfilling love affair with yourself - in spite of what may come and go. It's a status, not a curse or something deserving sympathy. I came into this world single and was content with that for so long - I'm sure I can do it so long as I need to lest another comes along to change that. 

Some people want stability and a long-term relationship, some people want spontaneity and the post-coitus euphoria of sex, and some people are happy and whole all by themselves. What is terrifying about a person who wants to choose themselves, whether for now or forever? Why do we think there's something wrong with them? What does that say about us as people, and as a society? Why are you so obsessed with me with love and what anyone else does with it? I think we might be in love with the idea of love and may not actually care about where or who it comes from, whether it's healthy and benevolent, or it's reality. It's the love story, the great romance, and going to the ends of the Earth for ... love - not a person, their heart, or their soul, but this feeling, this amorphous thing, this ... this ... love. It's an addiction. It's a perversion. It's unreal. I think knowing our intentions, what we want, and what we need are all very different things. Are we chasing down love just for love, or are we looking for someone for us to genuinely love, and for them to authentically love us? Are we in love with the idea of someone and are disappointed when they turn out to be more real than we ever imagined them to be? Are we infatuated with lust, the chase, and sex?

We are socialized to think we have to want certain things and if we don't that there is something wrong with us. We try to be what society and others expect us to be. We are dragged into a narrative we never asked to be part of. The reality is everyone's story is different. We have to choose what is right for us. What makes us happy. What makes us better, more whole, and content. Marriage is not an achievement - sustaining a relationship is. It takes some reproductive fluids and not much else to have a child but parenthood is providing for and raising a person to reach their full potential. If we are going to praise people for institutionalizing their relationships then we also must give the same respect to those who choose not to. We have to recognize and value people whose story does not include a nuclear family of 2.5 children and a white picket fence in the suburbs. We have to give space for normal to be individualized. We are whole whether we're partnered, divorced, adopted, fostered, half/step siblings, single, and everything else in between. Let's allow people to tell their own story and to accept it as valid, whether it's similar to ours or not. Focusing on ourselves, living for what we want/need and letting others do the same would give us the freedom and flexibility to truly live in our lives not what anyone else wants for us.