Real Girl Diaries | Ep 1

Jan 6th, 2023

Capturing the realness behind new beginnings

I am attempting this cycle of journaling once again. You might ask me how do you know if it will stick this time. I don’t.

But what I know is that I have lost myself. I can no longer separate my thoughts, wants and perceptions from the others. I have become a deeply warmed sponge cake just intermittently soaking in the syrup of other people’s voices and opinions. It’s getting unhealthy for me. Whether is it is love, validation, direction, life plans.

I cannot hear my own voice and that is a very unsettling feeling. All I have are constant intense feelings that are waiting to be shaken and decanted. My therapist jokingly calls my brain, “Khichdi” that needs to be separated to find the kernels of rice, the dal, and the spices. I am one catastrophic mess.

I keep wondering when and where did I lose myself again, especially when I had put in the work to be more integrated person. There used to be a point where I cared about my needs and it was first priority. I had abandoned the molds of the crowd and listened to myself. I am not just desperate; I am scared because as an adult you realize the onus lies completely on you. So my word for this year has to be accountability.

Understanding that life is life but you have to understand that you are indirectly where you have put yourself. That is a completely hard pill to swallow because suddenly the blame game has to shift to self-reflection. And especially when your brain is khichdi, you rather run to something or someone else. But how long can I keep running before it catches up?

I have no choice but to stop

I have no choice but to breathe

I have no choice but to write.

A for Ask

Ask if you want me back

Ask if you want some space

Ask if you want the sunlight to be painted tainted rain

Ask if you want a hug, a pillow fort or some siamese cats

Or silence, some rock metal and a punching bag

Ask if you want me to stop breathing in your face

Because I know my attempt at giving life, has reverse engineered asphyxiation

Ask. Because you have given yourself a 50% chance at this game called life.

Yes. No. Maybe. (A game of russian roulette)

Don’t ask. And it’s a game of tag.

And we are both tired of running

So just Ask.

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Inspired by my English teacher Ms Vijeta and a very close blogger friend, I have decided to take up the A-Z challenge. The goal here is to write a post with all the letters of the alphabet. I have decided that I am going to make this process fun and natural. And I hope as I concoct these ideas from the beginning to the end, we will all draw insights in the process. This series will adopt multiple people’s perspectives and hopefully you can relate to one or two along the way.

D for Diane

Diane was like whimsical rain

A fairy playing with the pursuit of pain

Her laughter pitter pattered like a thousand stars

And the world craved for her like divine scars

She touched the earth like wafery manna

and forever turned the hues of our meadows

And we were never the same again

It wasn’t green

It wasn’t brown

It wasn’t black

It was ethereal white.

The colour of eternal death

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Check out:

A for Ask

B for Break

C for Cranberries

B for Break

Break me like a clay pot,

And let my insides run like muddy river water

To cleanse my miry soul.

Break me like a beating hurricane,

To silence the voices in my head

that threaten to spark a storm.

Break me like a glass vase,

And pick up the pieces with bleeding hands

So I that I would not have to hurt myself again.

Break me like timber guitar,

with a thousand melancholy strings

Before I sing songs that usher our end

Break me before I break you

For me

For you

For us.

Just break me already.

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Check out:

A for Ask

Love bakery

Her bubble gum sky

His cotton candy lies

Her frothy swirls

His candied eyes

Her honey dew curls

His muffin baked scruff

A love so sweet

A crimson scream

Two hands

Two feet

Four hands

Four feet

A bitter feast.

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This poem seeks to encapsulate any relationship or friendship that was bitter-sweet. It started with light and airy pastel hues that slowly changed colors into deeper tones. The comfort, the familiarity, the bakery warm touch forced them to stay together. They convinced themselves, “That they had a love so sweet”. Until one day, the love caved in and turned into crimson screams.

The lines “Two hands. Two feet. Four hands. Four feet. A bitter feast” reveal how when the love turns to pain, the blame game begins. Each person blames the other, but in truth, both had some part in the destructive damage. Either one party stayed for too long or the other left too early. And it is a joint portion to endure, together but alone.

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Picture Credits: Pexels

Wine

She is fine wine

that swirls in clear frosted glass

capturing the gentle swirls of mirth

that life so freely gives;

in inebriated moods.

She is a pretty face

with a deeper soul

that captures smooth stories,

reflecting them in the light

the color of aged scarlet.

She is a mystery unraveled

with a hundred layers

and distinct taste notes,

morphing into healing elixir

for loved ones in need.

She gets more potent

with every sip;

stronger and sweeter,

the longer you keep her

the longer you treasure her

the longer you preserve her.

She is fine wine.

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To all the women out there who add such flavor to all our lives. Let’s raise our glasses to women-hood. Love xoxox

Picture Credits: Pexels

Tornado

I love the metaphor of a sweeping tornado to the extent of overuse. But nevertheless I know how devastating the feeling of being not in control can be. It is often evidenced by this picture of a spiteful tornado hurling life at us, often blocking the very sunlight we so desperately need. It truly feels like we are losing control over the drawstrings of our mind.

But by tuning into three things can help you crawl your way into the eye of the storm, where there is an eerie sense of calm, despite the crazy hurricane. If you feel anxiety next time, try spending a minute on each of the below.

1.Tune into your breath: Feel the ragged breath turning into a warm crests and troughs of comfort and stability.

2. Tune into your heartbeat: Quiet the noise raging and really listen to the pulse of your heartbeat. Reminding that you have purpose, you are alive, you are created for great things.

3. Tune into your sensations: How does your skin feel? Is there warmth or cold? Is there any physical pain or emotional heartache? Do your eyes feel heavy, tear-laden? Do you feel tired or a little jumpy? Embrace these sensation without labeling them as good or bad. Just know that they are yours and just let them be. In feeling, there is release.

Take a moment and notice your aliveness. That surge of muted energy crackling in the center of your body. Like a live wire deep underwater. Can you hear it?

Most of us are caught in the vortex of feeling a lack of control. Whether it is due to social distancing or other people running our lives, or our emotions going for a mayday ride. Everything is raging around us, bills and mortgages and family issues, illness or educational uncertainties. It is easy to go on that scary roller coaster one ride after the other, sometimes even forgetting to breathe.

It is so important to check in with ourselves a few times a day and observe our sense of being. An existence not caused by mere chance. When we hone into this practice of tuning into ourselves, it is a powerful tool in the face of challenges.

But you are in control. Just tune into yourself, a steady tent in the midst of a storm.

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Picture Credits: Pexels

Rejection (Part 2)

Rejection

like jets of

dark blue squid ink

shoot through a

live canvas

sketching a deep seated story

of hushes,

wallows and agonies;

Gently hiding

behind a well manicured veil.

A focal pain point,

an unknown story

an unheard cry

branching off into

a myriad of possible endings,

like varicose veins

painting a story

that only you can feel

but not change,

As you smile through the pain

And paint your skin

a bright canary yellow;

your sunscreen against the world.

When the day is done

and you’re finally back in bed

You let your skin breathe

It’s icy,

the unmistakable colour

Blue.

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Click here to read, Rejection Part 1.

Trying to capture the feeling of rejection is a difficult thing to do. It is an emotion that doesn’t receive enough empathy because it is a very personal experience, unique to the individual and therefore hard to express. Vocalising it always feels like injustice because it is an emotion that is embodied rather than easily expressed, like a thin film of blue light.

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Picture Credits: Pexels

Anxiety

I inhaled the froth of the hurling ocean

and bottled it up in a safe place;

the pit of my belly.

I let the breath of my nostrils

fill white billowed sails;

Lungs constricted.

I swallowed butterflies

that fluttered and lay restless;

trapped in my heart.

I danced with a forbidden tornado

in swirling gusts and turns;

my thought vortex.

I cried with an unbridled passion

of things past and of things to come;

blood tinged tears.

The end seems near

My eyesight gets blur

The body trembles,

sinking into the quicksand.

The next day I wake up smiling,

strolling by the quiet beach

the air back in my lungs

remembering,

whispering,

“Thank God I never drowned at sea”

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Anxiety feels real to the body and mind and let nobody invalidate your experience. For everyone who has ever been through it or is still going through it, your are a fighter at sea, weathering storms no one might see. I know it is hard but you will get through it and the same seas that tormented you will be a quiet reflection of your inner strength. Never give up because you are not alone and when you feel discouraged always remember, “Sailors never drown at sea”.

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Picture Credits: Pexels