This is the tenth time since I last posted on my blog that I am starting a new post. The previous nine attempts lie deleted. I start off with much gusto, which fizzles out in a few lines. That seems telling of the way I have been dealing with things in general. In starts and stops; continuity seems alien to my existence. Tenacity was never my strong point but, these days, I don't seem to complete anything. Thoughts. Work. Equations. Blog posts.
It's all broken.
I think it is because I've turned bitter. I called someone jaded on my blog, a while back. I feel jaded now. Uneasy around optimism; quick to be bitter or sarcastic; unwilling to let perceived wrongs go. At some level, it's just a convenient state of mind: I can feel morose, wallow in self-pity, be mean and feel as though it is all justified.
I know better.
I know that I've always been one royal whiner. Those I like talking to have had to bear with the unfortunate burden that my whining is. Sometimes they do so with a smile pasted on their faces, sometimes they tell me to go boil my head. But they usually listen. The problem is that I've got to a stage where I take out my frustration on those whom I am whining to. My lack of agency, my inability to get things done is often transferred to the people I believe are better placed to act. I fail to recognise that their constraints, their inability to act may be causing them just as much frustration. When you have a disagreement with the people you usually agree with, you feel god-awful. Or, at least, I do.
And then there are expectations. From people you have no right to expect anything from. When do you have a right to expect something? Expecting reasons for stances taken, consideration when you're low, an explicit indication of love, a patient ear, to be understood; it's all a giant build-up to a single sensation - disappointment. And then, I've mastered the art of being misunderstood, in any case. Ask someone if the person is a feminist and I've victimised the collective for taking a stance against my personal ideology. Or perhaps it is someone else taking the more convenient path to justify the person's unsubstantiated position. I am getting used to that too: having what I "twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools". There we go again - self-pity.
What bothers me is how much all of this bothers me. How far I'm willing to let things sink into my minimal grey matter and hog up processing power. How easy it is to unsettle me with just a phrase, these days.
I am scared.
I am scared that I do not fit into the society I live in and that there is nobody whom I connect with and who wishes to connect back. I am afraid of being an oddity; I want to be endearing and likable by the common measure. But then, I am also incapable of being anybody else but myself. And I am an oddity. I am short-haired, fat, loud, opinionated, brash, arrogant and easy to dislike or fear. What I am afraid of, is that people cannot get beyond that. I want them to; I yearn for people to understand the insecurity, the fear, the hope and the love within. I am afraid that if I do not cling on to people, they'll be more than glad to set me adrift; that they have no need to hold on; that I have nothing to offer.
I do not understand proportions.
I was told, the other night, to bring some degree of proportion into my life. Living in blacks and whites is a fool's life. For someone who argues for nuance in everything that she talks about, I seem to lack it completely in my life. Or do I understand so little about myself that I cannot even perceive the nuances in my relationships with people? That is an unsettling proposition.
I think I am just wary of being vulnerable. We are taught, early on in our lives, that vulnerability is a bad deal. That being at the mercy of another is a pathetic position to be in. But then, I cannot imagine myself completely independent under any circumstance. The problem with caring or expecting anything is that you leave the response to someone else; and there is nothing you can do if they don't care or they choose not to live up to your expectations. Then again, I'd like to think that the Buddha story applies in equal measure here too: what happens when you give someone love and they refuse to take it? You are filled with that much more love.
I'll fix it.
It's all broken.
I think it is because I've turned bitter. I called someone jaded on my blog, a while back. I feel jaded now. Uneasy around optimism; quick to be bitter or sarcastic; unwilling to let perceived wrongs go. At some level, it's just a convenient state of mind: I can feel morose, wallow in self-pity, be mean and feel as though it is all justified.
I know better.
I know that I've always been one royal whiner. Those I like talking to have had to bear with the unfortunate burden that my whining is. Sometimes they do so with a smile pasted on their faces, sometimes they tell me to go boil my head. But they usually listen. The problem is that I've got to a stage where I take out my frustration on those whom I am whining to. My lack of agency, my inability to get things done is often transferred to the people I believe are better placed to act. I fail to recognise that their constraints, their inability to act may be causing them just as much frustration. When you have a disagreement with the people you usually agree with, you feel god-awful. Or, at least, I do.
And then there are expectations. From people you have no right to expect anything from. When do you have a right to expect something? Expecting reasons for stances taken, consideration when you're low, an explicit indication of love, a patient ear, to be understood; it's all a giant build-up to a single sensation - disappointment. And then, I've mastered the art of being misunderstood, in any case. Ask someone if the person is a feminist and I've victimised the collective for taking a stance against my personal ideology. Or perhaps it is someone else taking the more convenient path to justify the person's unsubstantiated position. I am getting used to that too: having what I "twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools". There we go again - self-pity.
What bothers me is how much all of this bothers me. How far I'm willing to let things sink into my minimal grey matter and hog up processing power. How easy it is to unsettle me with just a phrase, these days.
I am scared.
I am scared that I do not fit into the society I live in and that there is nobody whom I connect with and who wishes to connect back. I am afraid of being an oddity; I want to be endearing and likable by the common measure. But then, I am also incapable of being anybody else but myself. And I am an oddity. I am short-haired, fat, loud, opinionated, brash, arrogant and easy to dislike or fear. What I am afraid of, is that people cannot get beyond that. I want them to; I yearn for people to understand the insecurity, the fear, the hope and the love within. I am afraid that if I do not cling on to people, they'll be more than glad to set me adrift; that they have no need to hold on; that I have nothing to offer.
I do not understand proportions.
I was told, the other night, to bring some degree of proportion into my life. Living in blacks and whites is a fool's life. For someone who argues for nuance in everything that she talks about, I seem to lack it completely in my life. Or do I understand so little about myself that I cannot even perceive the nuances in my relationships with people? That is an unsettling proposition.
I think I am just wary of being vulnerable. We are taught, early on in our lives, that vulnerability is a bad deal. That being at the mercy of another is a pathetic position to be in. But then, I cannot imagine myself completely independent under any circumstance. The problem with caring or expecting anything is that you leave the response to someone else; and there is nothing you can do if they don't care or they choose not to live up to your expectations. Then again, I'd like to think that the Buddha story applies in equal measure here too: what happens when you give someone love and they refuse to take it? You are filled with that much more love.
I'll fix it.
