Writing cures

It has been almost a year since I last wrote a post. Needless to say, a lot has changed. Many times, I would open up this page and start writing about how the COVID-19 pandemic, the BLM protests, and the constant anxiety caused by the uncertainty of world affairs are making me feel, and get to describing what is happening in the world exactly as anyone who is experiencing it would describe it. And then delete the draft. There was nothing new to say — 2020 sucked and 2021 is looking pretty sucky too, especially from where I am.

My good friend asked me recently if I had shared any new thoughts in this blog, and I did not have an answer for him other than the plain truth — I was not up for it. However, I do have something to share. I will be starting a new chapter in my life, which is very exciting. After years of preparing and doubting and fighting through, I have finally secured a position as a graduate student in a psychology-based program. I am beyond excited, and of course the excitement brings along doubts of “Will I be able to complete the program?”, “Will I be good in it?”, “Will I be able to afford it?”. I am listening to these thoughts, not ignoring them or fighting them. But at the same time, I let them pass by. I know I have waited a long time for some change, and it is finally happening. This is the good type of change for which I was praying to the God in whom I do not think I believe.

To get a head start with this program, I started reading some literature and came across this sentence: Thinking onto the page is part of life. How true is this? I am not sure about you, but this past year I spent a lot of time with myself. You may think I am losing my mind, but I have become my best friend. Sometimes I talk to myself; sometimes I smile at my reflection because I am happy to see myself; and at other times I listen to myself when I am feeling a lot of emotions. Although I have not written posts on this blog, I have written more in my journal than any other time in my life. Except for maybe when I was a kid — I used to write mundane day-to-day tasks in my diary almost every night before bed. I wonder where these diaries are…

Anyways, back to the point. Writing in my journal has allowed me to process thoughts and feelings by leaving them on paper: for me to come back to another day with a fresher perspective. So I wholeheartedly agree with, “Thinking onto the page is part of life.” Writing really helps you reflect on your choices, decisions and hurdles; and what other way helps you grow more than self-reflection? Writing is art, but it is not just a way to entertain others. It is a means of catharsis. It is a means of entertaining ourselves. You do not need to be perfect at writing. All you need to do is pick up a pen or a pencil, grab a piece of blank paper, and pour your thinking onto the page. Sometimes I have a lot to say, and I do not know how to end or structure my words once I begin opening up. I just let them flow, as fast as my right hand can write, in synchronous motion with with my thoughts. Other times, I do not write much but get to the point so that the ‘future me’ will know what is up. I write when I am sad, angry, hurt, neutral, happy, content; I write whenever I feel like writing. I write just as I live — however and whenever I wish to do so. I am in charge.

God, are you there?

I am reading Eat. Pray. Love these days and am realizing that the book is beginning to open up a spiritual side of me. I identify as an agnostic because I find it hard to believe an external force is in control of my life and fate. Although I claim to be a person who lives in the moment, I am realizing that I need some sort of structure in my life. I like a bit of control, i.e. to know that something in the future is attainable without leaving things for a higher power to take care of. I cannot find the strength or the trust within me to depend on an external being to do things right for me. I need that control in my life, where I feel I do things for myself and I am the one responsible for how it turns out.

This sort of control is great if things actually work out. If your life is filled with positivity, it doesn’t hurt to own up to having been in control of that result. But, if you continuously reap negative products, wouldn’t you want to blame its creation on something other than yourself? We tend to not internalize blame so as to not damage our self-esteem. However, there will come a time when reality catches up, and we will realize we may be the creator of both good and evil. What then? How do we deal with that amount of power and responsibility? Sure, it is just over one life, but that is one whole 5-foot-5-inch (3-inch if I am being honest) body with billions of cells quietly going about their day not knowing what fate has in store for them. So then, is belief in a higher power, necessary? Or, the question is, do we all believe in a higher power so that we save ourselves from our minds eating at us slowly when things go wrong?

“Only cowards believe in God”. Isn’t this something someone said? Wow, look at me — I think so highly of myself that I am quoting out of thin air. Jokes aside, I don’t think it is wrong or cowardly of anyone to believe in a higher power. To be honest, I don’t think I have the right to make such a claim even if I did think so. I am just one of the billion human beings going about their day oblivious to others’ experiences and feelings. To each their own. This is simply my perspective. It is not cowardly to believe in God; I think it is simply a coping strategy for our ever-so-delicate self-esteem. We humans are intelligent and emotionally advanced beings capable of civilization and philanthropy, unlike any other fellow member of the animal kingdom. But, with a frontal cortex capable of executive functions comes the responsibility of protecting ourselves from feeling vulnerable. We are not big fans of vulnerability, especially to admit we are no longer in control of it. Hence, enter God. God who can solve our problems. God who can take away our pain. God who chose a life for us that we cannot yet see but we will if we trust in Him.

So, is it cowardly to hide behind an invisible being and both blame and trust it with life? I think it could be interpreted as being bold. Maybe even necessary. Faith grounds us and allows us to identify with something more than ourselves. Having faith does not mean you need to blindly follow this invisible being, but it means to be embraced by a warm hug with consolation, “you are not alone”.

I started writing this post a long time ago and for some reason left it unfinished. I am not sure what made me get back to it, but I want to conclude my thoughts on the existence of a higher being by acknowledging something I heard in the movie, “The Half of It”. The main character mentions to her friend that she does not believe in God, and her friend remarks that it must be so nice to not believe. The character responds, “No. It’s not. It’s… lonely”.

I wish I could believe in a higher power just to feel the embrace, not so much so that I could throw caution to the wind knowing someone will take the wheel for me. It is lonely to not trust in something other than myself. But, I guess that is my coping mechanism to protect my self-esteem — to rely only on myself to make the right decisions for me. Maybe someday I will feel differently. I am neither looking forward to nor dreading that day. I will take it as it comes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Being ‘Educated’

I am currently reading Tara Westover’s memoir, ‘Educated’ and I must say I feel both pity and jealousy towards her. Although, I am not sure if pity is the appropriate word to use, as describing her life as pitiful demeans the power she radiates throughout the episodes of her life. If you have not read the memoir you would not understand what I am talking about, and believe me I cannot do it any justice by summarizing her story. And that brings me to why I am jealous of Tara Westover.

I enjoy reading a lot — I have as a kid reading Enid Blyton’s adventures, past my bedtime under the dim light seeping through my bedroom door left ajar; as a teenager reading JK Rowling’s magical imagination, with my mother’s surprise-snatch of my book bringing me back to reality; as an adult reading Maya Angelou’s perseverance to work as a streetcar conductor, while standing at the bus stop almost missing my bus.

It is true what they say: you can lose yourself in a book.

Tara Westover’s writing isn’t the first work with which I fell in love. I am always in awe of the intellect of authors that places words so methodically to entice the reader like a spider weaves the web to trap her prey. I have been a trapped fly in the weaved words on many occasions, but this is the first time I have put down a book to write about it.

Tara Westover is an intellect — there is no doubt about it. Read the first few pages of her memoir and you will understand what I mean. She has a way with her words. There were many times when I paused to re-read her writing, and admire her use of the English language to share her story. The memoir flows easy as if she is sitting across from me telling her story. And for this reason, I am jealous of her. I envy her because I wish I could write as well as she does, using the right words in the right way to express what I feel. It does not have to be sophisticated, but intelligent enough to reflect self-awareness.

I wish to one day share my own story through writing. And I hope that when I am brave and confident enough to start that process, my work is at least a quarter as good as Tara Westover’s. I understand she may have had years of critical feedback to perfect her writing, but I hope to gain knowledge by reading works from the many bright authors who have the skills. So until the world is, and I am, ready for my story, I will read as many books as I possibly could, to learn their ways all the while being envious that I am not a literary genius.

NOTE: I recently read an article on the New Yorker about bibliotherapy. I had no idea such a thing existed until I read this article that was published in 2015. I knew the effects of reading but little did I know there are teams of people dedicated to finding the right book for you. They recommend fiction, but I prefer non-fiction as I find it more relatable given its obvious actuality. Nevertheless, soon I am going to give fiction another try!

| Reflec-nine-ting |

Man, how is it mid-November already? But also, 2019 went by so sloooooooowly!! I feel this way mostly because I had a lot happening this year. Reflecting on this (almost) past year, I would say it had both ups and downs. Ups are great, and downs are good too! I learnt a lot this year, not just about myself but also about other people in terms of how they operate in this simulation called life. (Side note: does anyone else feel like we are part of some cruel, but awesome, video game, where the player — aka God — is controlling our every move? Wouldn’t that be both awesome and terrifying?!)

I tried online dating this year. Well, it was at the end of last year but it kind of took off this year. I went on three road trips. I moved out of my family home and got myself a cosy apartment. I bought a car. I started volunteering to work towards my dream career. So all in all it was a great year. But man, the debt! The crippling debt of being independent is… crippling. I do not want to sound like a complaining millennial, but I am going to be one and say: I hate how expensive everything is. How do people afford to do anything? Or, is it just me? I mean I feel as if my full-time job is not enough to sustain my existence. I can survive for sure, but I cannot live. Or, think of a future where I will be debt-free. Sigh…

Anyways, I am not here to rant today (although, I did some of that already). I am here to reflect. Wait… is ranting a type of reflection?! Maybe it is. Oh well, I am ranting then.

The most significant thing I learnt this year (so far) is that I would not be able to survive this simulation without friends and family. Some of us are born and raised to be lone wolves. I ain’t one of them. This does not mean I rely on others completely with no autonomy, but sh*t is just easier when you are surrounded by people who you can trust and depend on for support. The support is comforting for my mental health as well. The year 2019 made me stronger, but I could not have done that without my friends and family. I would love to take all the credit and say, “Hey! Look at that, I am super strong both physically and mentally! I figured it out all by myself with no help whatsoever!” But, I would be lying. I must admit, there were times when I was in awe of my own mental (and physical, I am scrawny but I can lift… sometimes) strength, but other times I was looking at myself in the mirror and saying, “Why can you not let it go?”

I am in no way suggesting that people cannot figure stuff out by themselves. I am simply stating that at times we need to reach out for support and say, “Hey, I am mentally and physically exhausted of carrying this burden around. Could I get some help so that the load isn’t too heavy?” I am glad I reached out and shared my baggage when I did need the help. And I am extra glad that I realized the point at which I regained my strength so that I could start dealing with what’s in my baggage. I have not completely dealt with it yet, but I am patient with myself and providing myself time to reflect on my emotions, thoughts and actions. The worst, in my opinion, is ignoring the baggage and chances of self-reflection to rely solely on external sources of support.

So, that is my spiel for the year. I know I promised myself to write (and read) more, and that has not been going so well. Imma keep trying doe!

Until then, have a great one-and-a-half-months of 2019. May you have 20-20 vision next year!! Get it? Ha! Not funny, I know.

 

 

 

Not-so-happy anniversary…

I started this blog three years ago. Why? Because I was at a bad place in a bad time, and I wanted to get myself out of there. I didn’t think it possible then, and reminiscing over the past 3 years I cannot say much have changed now. That’s a little depressing, isn’t it? I apologize if you are in a good mood looking for a good story to read — this isn’t going to be one of those feel-good stories, but there is a message — I promise. So, I hope you stick around.

You may not care about why I think this way, but I am going to tell you anyways. I feel trapped, in a box, with no way to escape. I could just break the box, but there is a twist to the story — there’s no real box. Just the perception of one. How do I escape from a box that doesn’t exist, but one that I have conjured up and envisioned as shielding me from getting to my goals? Get your mind to be stronger, of course! … Easier said than done.

But if I were to reflect on my own experiences and advise someone else about how to strengthen their mind, what could I say? I’d simply say, ‘Everyone has struggles’. We may think others’ struggles are insignificant compared to ours, but that doesn’t make them less real. The perception of struggle is subjective, such that a war veteran would think a teen going through depression because his peers do not accept him is bogus. The veteran would say, ‘Kid, get over it. You haven’t seen the worst of the world at all.’ Is he wrong? No. But, is he right? No. Is he human and therefore susceptible to be judgmental? Yes.

What I am getting at is, if you are going through a tough time, get through it. But know that you are not alone. Take your time to heal, process what’s hurting, cry controllably: whatever it is you need to do to get through it. The saying ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’ is bologna until you are ready to get back up. Once you are up and running again you can reflect on the struggle you witnessed and realize that what everyone said while you were struggling was true, because they spoke from experience. It takes time to get to where you want to get to, and there really is no rush. Easier said than done, again, amirite? But it’s true.

I read this quote somewhere: ‘you are not a failure. you are just impatient.’, which I now realize to be true. The reason I don’t think much have changed over the past 3 years is because I am impatient. I want quick changes without working out any actions. I want someone to magically appear and fix all my problems. I blame situations, people, my past self, anything to feel better about my current self. There. Is. No. Point. Because you have just yourself to deal with all this, so why not take it on with some positivity. I preach as if I can take my own advice. It’s tough, I am not going to lie. But self-reflection has helped. Especially on days when I feel that my life is going nowhere. I tell myself, ‘things will get better because they have to.’ and I just keep going. What else could I say?

I feel like I went off on a tangent. Anyways, concluding remarks: deal with it. Take your time. Be comfortable with yourself. Live happily ever after. Or live a content life. Whatever you are okay with. You only live once (YOLO!), so why not LIVE and not just survive.

The fall and rise of the warrior princess

Have you ever had your life figured out, and then suddenly it all crashed? Well, in my case it wasn’t actually sudden, but it sure felt like it with a little introspection. I was someone who always had her life figured out. I didn’t have to think twice about where I was going, I knew I would make it. I moved to a different country at 17 years, and got into a program I have dreamt of for a long time. Life was moving swiftly and almost effortlessly. I got awards I didn’t even know existed. It goes without saying, I was lucky! Not that I didn’t work too hard to get where I am today, but things happened to me without much effort.

And then it changed. I wanted to do research since I was 15 years old, because I wanted to be a scientist. Innovative and creative thinking to solve problems of tomorrow seemed like a really cool idea. That is, until I got into the field of research. In hindsight, I should have gained some experience earlier to know what I was getting myself into, but I didn’t and by the time I was 23 years old I knew research wasn’t for me. The field seems politicized and (grant) money-driven that I lost interest, as it felt non-genuine and forced to simply publish a ‘story’ rather than do things for the betterment of humanity.

I sought a different avenue. Medicine. I took the admission test. Twice. Went through the tiresome and expensive process of applications. Rejected! Now what?

Give up? Medicine isn’t a dream. My dream is much bigger than that. The dream is to be remembered. To be impactful. To bring meaning to others’ lives. It doesn’t really matter to me how I do it, I want to do just that — make a difference.

So, give up on medicine? Look for other avenues? What do I do? I am obviously lost. At 15 years I had blind ambition to do something I haven’t really tried but only heard of. At 28 years, I don’t even have that blind ambition. I am not driven. I feel old. I feel pitiful. I feel sorry for myself. I feel angry. I am insecure. I feel guilty. I feel that everyone but me is to blame for this.

So, what now? To be honest, I don’t know. I feel more lost than ever and I think it shows in my face. It shows in the interactions I have with others. I don’t like the person I have become, as I feel I have lost the confidence I once had and it’s impacting my relationships with people. I am seeking validation from others when I myself cannot truly comprehend how to feel and what my thoughts are telling me. I want others to make me feel better, but how could they when I don’t know what would make me feel better?

And then, something happened. I talked to my aunt. A true fighter for what she believes in. She’s a strong-willed and independent woman capable of doing anything she puts her mind to. She has fallen down so many times — as many times that people would feel sorry for her. But, that did not stop her from getting right back up. As a single mom, she fought against the world to raise her sons. She’s truly a warrior and many applaud the way she has risen from the ashes multiple times.

I talked to her. She realizes that my face shows I am not okay, and probes. But of course I say everything is fine — I am just sleepy. We talk about life and everything that is going on around us. It slips out that I am deeply unhappy with my life right now. She probes. I tell her I feel lost and nothing is going right. And then, she miraculously lifts me up to a point I didn’t think I could be raised to. She reminds me of everything she has endured, and everything she lost but how she did not give up. She tells me how she stubbornly believed in herself and her aspirations and got to where she wanted to get to, because she was able to keep her mindset strong. She advised me, ‘Don’t let your will start to wane. Because if your thinking is weak, you cannot do anything but sulk. You have to help yourself and believe that you are able.’

The advise is pretty cliche. I have had others tell me this. But the words she chose to weave the very motivational speech she gave made the advice extremely impactful. I feel empowered and capable to get up again to build myself, rather than feed into my insecurities and failures. People fail all the time. I realize that what matters in the end is if you make your peace with your failure and move past it, or just sulk about it. I sulked about it enough already. I don’t have everything in life I wanted but doesn’t mean I won’t get them. I need to keep my head up and keep moving forward.

I realized something else during this motivational speech session. You hear on social media, and almost everywhere else, that kids need role models growing up. Celebrities, mostly, with whom they could identify. I never truly understood the significance of this until now. Having my aunt, a strong woman who went against the odds, as a role model helps me believe that I too can do it. I don’t mean to belittle her in any way by saying this but I tell myself that if she can do it, so can I. Because 1) I haven’t fallen down as much as she had; 2) we are related so there is definitely some of that warrior DNA in me; 3) I have her to remind me I am worthy.

We need people to fall on when we are at low points. As much as I would love to shut off my pituitary and not feel emotions, we are dependent creatures who need little boosts from others every now and then. I am not ashamed to feel the way I do anymore, because I am sure most do. But I want to change it, and I will. The change won’t be overnight I am sure, but I think it’s okay to take my time doing so. I am grateful for the life I have, and appreciative of whoever put me here.

You may hear more of it soon, or maybe not. Let’s just go with the flow… 🙂

 

A crazy little thing called online dating

This may be a little late but: Welcome to 2019! Cannot believe it’s a new year already. The concept of ‘new year, new me’ is so strong that I wish there was something I could change in my life. I am not saying there isn’t anything to change; what I am saying is that I wish I could change things in my life. First world problems, amirite?

I am going to use this post to be insightful about something a little personal. I will not be comfortable opening up all the way, but I hope I can check off on self-reflection in the process of writing. So, here it goes…

Before the dawn of the new year I signed myself up for an online dating app. The decision took a long time coming, partially because I was skeptical of the idea of online dating, but mostly because I am a hopeless romantic waiting for the right guy to fall off the sky with little to no effort on my part. Did I say hopeless romantic? I meant unrealistic fool.

A friend recommended an app where the majority of dates are looking for serious relationships, in comparison to the ones of more popular ‘blindly-swipe-right’ apps. I didn’t have to pay, no. I wouldn’t put a price on searching for love; although, 5 years ago I would have laughed at anyone who asked if I would give online dating a try. So, who knows.

Maybe it’s desperation, maybe reality hit me, or maybe I am just impatient to wait around for the guy to fall from the sky. Whatever the reason was that made me sign up, I don’t care because I am simply glad I made it.  I am glad I decided to grasp the reins and be in control of at least one aspect of my life, no matter the consequence.

The result: I hate dating.  I will be 28 in a couple of days and I must say, at the expense of sounding pitiful, that I feel too old to be in the dating scene. Let me explain: I am the type of person who prefers comfort over infatuation. That’s easy, you may say — just find someone with whom you are comfortable, right? Wrong answer. It takes time to be comfortable with someone; especially if it’s a stranger and all you know of them is what they tell you. I don’t think I have an issue trusting people, but that’s exactly what I am afraid of. I am afraid I would trust all too willingly and the person would turn out to be a sociopath. Or worse, a liar.

There’s nothing I find more unsexy than dishonesty. Truth hurts, and yes, sometimes it’s safer to be oblivious to certain things. But when the truth is revealed (which I believe always will) after a web of lies, it hurts more. I cannot say I have experienced the crippling feeling of being lied to, equivalent to having your skinned ripped off, when you are vulnerable and trusting of someone. Yet, I always fear it would happen to me. I have heard of others go through such situations, and I must admit that I am just afraid to be a statistic. All I could think of is, “this could happen to me”.

One may say the fear of a dishonest partner is one of the reasons casual dating is fun, because you are not too invested in the person to care if they are dishonest. But, personally, I disagree. I am the type of person who would not find someone attractive unless I can make an emotional connection with them. Not to say I am not superficial, i.e. don’t care about physical attributes at all. I do care about the appearance and demeanour of a person. However, if I can connect with the person on an emotional level, the physical attributes matter less. So, the dilemma is that if I like someone, I get invested in them right away. I yearn for things to get comfortable, where I can be my crazy self, and although I am good at hiding this from the person, the ride to “comfort town” starts to drive me nuts.

So, that has been my experience with online dating thus far. I think the longer I try it out, the more comfortable I will get with it. The idea of dating strangers is very new to me so I am going to cut myself some slack and realize that I should not give up on it just because I am not familiar with it. I will keep at it for a while, at least, and see how it goes! Wish me luck 🙂

More introspection to come…