Duality

Two sides of the same coin. Coexisting. At the same time. This duality of emotions.

Existing in harmony, in chaos

Uncertainty and certainty, for a fight to secure future

A want of closeness, and distance

A regular heart beat, an anxious chest

Idea to let go, while still holding on

The struggle to survive, the strength to carry on

The itch to make it meaningful, the mundaneness to simply accept things

The exhaustion to breathe, the excitement from warmth of the sun

The will to live, the unbearableness of being

All coexist.

And I’m still me. Allowing me to validate my own emotions. And allow myself to breathe.

Acceptance and healing

When I look at my scar and
Don’t flinch anymore
Or look at it neither with sorrow nor as a reminder of standing tall, but with pure indifference just as I would look at the existence of my fingers
Don’t mind the questions on the nature of its being
Or the cause of its creation
Don’t mind the shape it’s taking as it heals
Or frown at the slight lack of symmetry of it with the natural crease of my skin
When the unevenness of its touch doesn’t bother me anymore
Except for the sporadic pain it shoots to remind me and say, “hey, I exist!”
Does this mean, I’ve begun my journey towards healing with acceptance?
That gives birth to a thought in my head which wants me to keep saying to myself :
Hi! I am here, and made it out alive.

The absurdity of everything

Any huge life event has a seemingly big impact on a person. Maybe for a week or two. Certain things that were taking big room in head, now suddenly seemed insignificant. Easy to let go and move forward.

Then the everyday-ness thing sets in. Mostly the vibes of everyday things from people around you. And the whole of it, all the significant and insignificant stuff – starts to feel absurd. Everything absurd. Even that 20 seconds of crazy courage of doing/telling something that one wouldn’t do. When even that sinks in, absurdity sinks in even more.

My feelings in brief. Or maybe, simply am flaky.

Under Green Influence

Greed. That is it. The poltergeist that causes trouble.
A little more time
A litle bit of herb and what not
Then make stupid decsions
Trying to fix the aftermath of the greed
Just hoping it won’t cause casualties. The aftermath.

—–

We are so used to having conversations behind virtual walls
That we are used to evading emotions
And when there’s face to face conversation and
Feelings shared
Even trivial emotion
Which we would read and ignore over text message
Why can we not meet the eyes?
Like those arms when taking a photo, what do we do with the eyes?
Look back into theirs or look away full of unease?
—–

It’s funny how one moment i will be scared of myself and few moments later i find peace and solace in self. No. Actually, it’s beautiful.
—–

Unhinged

I, as you, have dual sides in me. Each tugging me towards the opposite extremes. Experiencing utter chaos. Exercising control to avoid slipping into my own madness. Eventually, some trigger tips me over. I come undone. Unhinged. Walking in my madness, observing. Tempted to unleash my darkness because I’ve been “played” and my tolerance misused. Cause ruins. It’s easy. Because, optimism is exhausting. It rewards the nice side in me, still is exhausting.

Temptation is the sexiest sultress. Fueling insane impulses. Blinding me of the consequences. But then, it didn’t really help by being “genuine and honest”. I still got played. By the boy I liked, a friend(s) I trusted and a stranger with fake obsessive need for sympathy.

I’ve been itching to unleash my madness. Toy back with people’s emotions. Break all the farce I built around me – which over the years developed as a habit and thus my personality. Nothing good ever came out of it.

I do remember the day when an act of kindness had pulled me from an abyss. Which encouraged me to stay kind. But then what’s the point of all this if everything and everyone I fought for, broke me bit by bit. By playing or toying with me. What’s the use of my honesty? Or me being genuine? Humanity around me is uncaring and almost cruel. And it is becoming almost unbearable to exist with all this. Wondering, if I can actually survive through all of this “game playing” mess.

Regardless. The only respite is that I can save my tolerance, honesty and genuine-ness to people who actually care about me and vice versa. A relationship that we built bit by bit over the years. That matters to me. Even with all my intense doom lik feeling I’m feeling currently.

Else, eventually the only end to everything is oblivion. I’m nothing when I cease to exist.

Normalcy

I am normal.

I found repeating that to myself today. Over and over again.

My disorders maybe define me. And the saddest thing was, even though I’ve accepted my psychiatrist’s diagnosis that I’m bipolar, I saw myself as threat to others. Believed that no human should get “this” as a partner when looking for a romantic relationship. For a long time.

I forgot I’m still lot better. I want to give myself that credit. Today. Now.

I’m not unkind to people on purpose. If it was not for kindness I received, I wouldn’t have made this much of recovery. I wouldn’t have been alive. I can empathize. I know how kindness can save lives.

I don’t toy with people’s feelings. I’m upfront about things.

I’ve patience. Sadly, more for wrong people. But I do give them chances. Maybe because I know that human beings are complex beings. And that lot of their past experience makes them what they are today.

I’m not a monster just because I’m bipolar.

My intelligence is not compromised because I have manic depression. Another term for bipolar.

I’m still normal.

I’ve not hurt anyone. Caused no harm. Follow the philosophy of live and let live.

I am normal. I said that to my anxiety today.

Eventually, the being in me got tired of getting beat up by my anxiety. Of making me believe I’m not worth it. Of making me forget those who are around me and are actually there for me. Who care for me. Genuinely.

I can’t be that flawed. Just because of bipolarity and because my anxiety say so.

Maybe, I broke free a bit. I know the struggle will start again with anxiety and it’s attempt at supression. But for today, I realised I am normal.

It took a huge weight off my chest.

Made me see myself in a softer light.

Don’t let your anxiety get to you either.

A dreaded conversation

Maybe it is the charm of something unattainable that keeps her going back to him again and again. And again. The hopeless struggle to attain the so called feeling of being engaged again. Feel conscious. Red in cheeks. Wanted. If only to satiate a lust. Maybe hers. Maybe his. Hold on to an illusion. A bit longer.

Until the voice in her head takes over and speaks for him. His voice, long forgotten, utters for him in her head – “Don’t reach out to me anymore. You induce annoyance. The mere sight of your name makes my skin crawl. Begone.”

Her vivid imagination shatters. The rain beats against her window. Buried deep in her blue blanket, cut off from the world, she gets comfortable in a story. Someone else’s happy imagination. And her anxiety slowly ebbs letting sleep take over.

A open hearted letter to self

From:
Finding everything hopeless
Believing I’m a failure
Contemplating on my existence
Wondering the meaning of it all
Toying with my breath
Planning my own abrupt unnatural end

To:
Listing down the reasons to live
Enjoying the renewed closeness with folks
Peaking my head out of my spiral
Planning on doing everything I wanted
Appreciating the warmth of the morning sun
Slowing down
Giving my vulnerability a space to exist
Treating myself tenderly – I try

It has been a long journey. Long fight. With myself – my mind.

As of today, with whatever free will I have, I choose to live. Try not to merely exist. But be more.

It’s fucking awesome. Right now. This life and this feeling of being free from morbid thoughts.

All my traumas, anxieties, unseen illnesses are learning to breathe. Learning to take deep breaths with me.

No way am I now going to let myself or anyone ruin this. Go back to square one. Lose my self esteem and self respect. Because I let my fellow beings, including few “friends”, be almost successful in letting me feel insignificant as a human.

I’m a human. I’ve feelings. I’ve emotions. I’m more than my physical boundary – my face, body. I’m fighting from becoming stone cold again, from inside. I, at times, do feel I am running out of kindness and patience. Then I realise, kindness is unmeasurable and abundant, patience then just follows. I just need to bite my tongue and refrain from intentionally hurting someone – verbally. Words hurt. The most.

So all in all:

I am my own friend. My own hero. My own lover. My own companion. My own everything. And there will be no one fucking up this relationship with myself.

I’m more than my physical being. I’m boundless. I’m a fucked up mess. All of this and much more is me. I accept her. And I love her.

What does success look like to you?

When I find my window to light(ness) at the nearing end of my dark(ness) alley. When the dark(ness) begins to become lighter. When I’m able to get out of my bed with a sense of purpose to live. With the sense of purpose to get things done. Get some juice out of my life. Feel alive from the inside. Be part of something. Create something.

When I find myself want to be alive to taste my life – all phases of it. This is what success looks like to me.

And you?

My Struggles with Pressures

I’m going to set aside my ego and admit that I’ve become a people pleaser. Since about 3 years now. The worst thing about becoming a people pleaser is, one: I now am selective about letting my feelings/opinions known. It’s an uncontrolled want on me to not upset my listener/potential relation etc. Two: A mask is always on.

The day I tried keeping masks and al aside and took a stand for myself – it was a shock. One: the other end didn’t handle the confrontation well. Second: the other end didn’t want to see or hear me at my worst.

It was a clear indicator of where the relation stood.

Though cliched, it holds true: if you can’t handle me at my worst, you don’t deserve to be around me at my best.

Today was my first, uncomfortable, step to break free of that pressure. Anxiety was under control, because I knew – it wasn’t the end of the world for me. Yet.