Photo by Camille San Vicente on Unsplash

Overwhelm

Revelling in moping.

In the last year and some months, i found home in a human being i thought was THE human being to have built any foundations in.

I didnt do it pointedly, i wasnt out picking people i wanted to build homes in, but i was definitely open to the possibility.

In doing specifically that, and wanting to externalise my home, i’ve found so many absurd insecurities i’ve held that i feel like i would only be able to conquer/discover with the assistance of someone by my side. Since, in my world, this is highly unlikely to be my family, i end up making it be my bestfriends.

Except i’ve also always made myself the victim when i say, “people always leave” and that i have a tendency to attract the ones that do. I’ve somehow spent a majority of my life picking people that weren’t necessarily picking me back. And made it my life’s mission to make my picking of them so obvious, that they are guilted into picking me.

Which probably has something to do with, me constantly being guilted into having to do things i dont want to do, having come from a family of 6.

I’ve spent a significant part, and continue to, of my life cringing, wincing and completely being off put by being told “i’m the one whose spoilt” by everyone whose ever known my family or how, when, or who i was raised with. Which has altogether sucked, because while my mother went out of her way to make sure we were “not compared” all we seem to have done, being raised amongst each other, is compare ourselves. Me, against my three brothers, me to my peers — in academia, sports, education, in just life in general.

It has left me scarred in a way, that i spend a large part of my life admonishing all those i was surrounded by. Those that seem to think buying status symbol objects is bad — because I could never. Those that waste food, even if a single morsel — because I could never. Those that got to take extravagant holidays, and witness more of the world than i could — because I could never. Those whose parents gave more shits about them than their children just being co-parents — because I could never. Men/males/girls who could go out, dress up, and live their lives in a certain definition of luxury that was not my own — because I could never.

All pretty inherent in my deep-seated hatred towards just my life circumstance.

Nothing helps the fact that my parents are from entirely different eras of life. Nobody I have ever interacted with, other than maybe my cousins(and in most cases, not even them) has ever understood why my parents are the way they are. And i’ve just had to go through life, catering to make sure I make nobody unhappy. Because my repercussions of making anyone unhappy, did not fit well with my people-pleasing.

Wonder where I then got the notion as a young teen that I simply must not be disliked by a single individual I was interacting with.

Truly.

Wonder.

Why.

Over the last few hours, I’ve discovered that these foundations i set in stone in this man I adore were so simply human, absolutely basic admittances of one human appreciating another, that is so void in most other interactions I have, that the poor individual got put on a pedestal. No fault of his own, he’s a sane human being, who knows how to interact and put himself first and is able to relate to the world without needing to question every facet of his personality and whether it’s liked or not.

If he reads this, he’ll call it the most ironic sentiment i’ve ever mentioned in my life, because — well, he just might.

I particularly miss my old therapist, who I was referred to, by a really close friend, who was ridiculous and untangled more knots in my self relation than the new one ever has, or that I’ve ever even been able to recognise.

Especially at a time like now, when all I really want is to make sense of WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK to do, and how I’ve landed myself in this giant pile of wet shit quicksand that i am struggling so hard to get out of, that’s only sinking me deeper into it.

The things I have yet to make sense of myself about, outnumber the amount I want to share the love I have. And as I write this, I reach another epiphany of the fact that i’m SO scared of being admonished for being the person I am, that I am only & entirely willing to make bestfriends of the people I date, or ……. in his case, situation. Which is straight-up ridonkulous, cause: I’m not dumb. I’m not stupid. I’m not ugly. I’m not devoid of understanding. I’m not unempathetic.

Sure, I have my fair share of self-fuckery which needs disentangling(is that even a word?) but …….. my need to make sure that someone knows me, before they even reach close to finding out where my bundle of heartstrings are, is so rooted in my many years spent being called “Weird” as a child.

I’ve personified this. Made it a part of my personality that people called me weird, only to have left the city I was raised in, that demarcated me ‘weird’. To find all my deep-seated weirdness completely at home in a different one.

The things that made me feel like an outcast were things that everyone else was known to be “normal” about. Speaking a certain language. Being a certain height. Dressing a certain way. Having only fixed opinions.

And so anyone questioning any of the things I have been raised to think are actually solid opinions, then make me question if they are even solid at all, because they’re seated in such stupidity.

There is so much left for me to unravel, and I think I just was craving someone to be able to bring & share my unravelling with, because i’m so scared of not liking myself when i realise these things, that I need someone to be there to tell me that they like me instead.

It’s all a little bit fucked to even think of your self this way, which is why it’s all just a little bit fucked altogether.

I’ve never looked forward less to the loss of someone in my life, but my only hope from the loss, is that it isnt one.

Which, in my heart of hearts, I have a strange feeling I know it is, but I’m battling it so hard, because he’s seen the threads tangled, and held them, and just cheered me on while i try to silently straighten one coloured thread at a time.

So, I dont imagine that someone else will want to come buy a front row ticket to seeing me untangle my shit, because well…… it doesnt seem like a lot of fun to have to undo so much about everything you’ve thought you yourself are. It’s also ridiculously jarring when everything in your life outside of your home is making you question the way you live your life, but the moment you return to it, you know you have to revert right back to old ways, because if you dont — you stand to face one of the biggest rejections of your life.

The last thing that is ofc the cherry on the top, is the fact that I couldnt possibly revolt against my parents. Not now. Not at this age. Not as a girl. Not in Delhi. Not in India.

So many knots. I mean, tbf, I did warn you there were a lot. And that’s just the beginning.

But, we’ve gotta try, because there is literally no other option to consider anymore.