Real Girl Diaries | Ep 1

Jan 6^th, 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.

Blueberries #1

 

The question is not what are blueberries….

But what is Blue Berries?

It is a series that attempts to open a conversation about the skeletons in our closets. To go behind our rehearsed expressions and portable masks and talk about the real stuff hiding there.

This is a huge leap of faith for me, to even address some of the topics surrounding mental health. This is not only a topic that lights up much controversy but also a sensitive one that needs to be addressed keeping in mind its various nuances. I don’t proclaim to have all the answers. Because answers are often not black and white and it is often in conversation that the shades of grey can be uncovered. And I would want to be able to start that conversation.

I hope you would give me permission to personify blueberries as the very essence of your soul. 

The essence of your life is an honest balance of your good days, your bad days, your quirks, your flaws, your emptiness, your strengths, your tears, your fears, your triggers, your secrets, your traumas, your joys, your people, your solitude, your accomplishments, your moments of weakness, your breakdowns and your moments of euphoria.

Blueberries can be conceptualised as the sum of your unique experiences or the liquid nectar of your life captured in one fruit. 

When the world beats you down or people hurt you, it feels like all the colour is squeezed out of you. It leaves you feeling breathless like a squished berry, all your insides leaking out for the world to see. The emotions bleed out often out of your control. It is the colour of blue.

But why are we taught to push down our emotions and stomp our feelings until it disappears? Or else we are segregated and labelled; the cry baby, the emotional rollercoaster, the ball of nerves, the overly sensitive wreck, the touch-me-not.

But blue is a common emotion that unifies us all. No matter the race, the socio-economic status, the gender, the continent, we all go through bouts of sadness. And it is time to use that sadness to reach out, connect and touch lives.

If life gives you blueberries, what are you gonna do about it? Blend it into a refreshing smoothie, bake it into a cake or make it into a lifegiving preserve.

There are no right or wrong answers as long as you own your experience, however subjective.

Egos aside, from one dysfunctional person to another. Let’s talk. Let’s heal.

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I am personally so so so excited about this upcoming 1-month series and I hope that each of these posts will be able to reach out and find the people who truly need it. My purpose for this series is simple. I would like each reader to walk away feeling a little bit understood, comforted knowing that they are not alone. Or I would like a reader to walk away with a new perspective or some food for thought. Or I would like them to just feel a bump in joy.  Do follow me as I will be dropping a new post every single day addressing all kinds of topics that need to be addressed. Feel free to connect with me through the comments and raise up any topics that you would like to be discussed. 

Love,

We are in this together.

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Picture Credits: Pexels

Sunlight and Moonlight 4

The fast lane

 

I was always a person who knew exactly how many days, hours and even minutes I had wasted before my head hit the pillow. I would gently fall on the bed with a swarm of guilt that felt like clutching a bustling beehive under water. I would lie awake for a few moments wondering, trying to hypothesize new ways of dealing with this. This usually goes two ways. Either I try to block out the guilt by feigning complete ignorance, but the latter is more powerful where I beat myself down till I’m pulp smeared by the sidewalk. 

I have another tactic that I am employing now. It’s called diversion where I try to sublimate my larger tasks into random miniature tasks that temporarily ease my distress. Just like how right now I am supposed to be working on an article talking about the opportunities and challenges in Organisational Behavior, but here I am writing this to feel better. 

So the plan for the day is to employ the first and third tactic so I sail through the day without too much of a mental breakdown. I plan to live in my bubble where I focus on just the moment and not anything else. At the same time I also plan to complete this blog post in college whenever I can. It is pretty sad that I don’t have the liberty to plug in my earphones to block out the noisy conversations swirling outside the staircase of my mind. I have grown fond of listening to music while writing blog posts but I need to adjust to this change. It’s hard to focus when you’re in a  busy place that keeps you decentered instead of internally ground. I am floating like driftwood but I know I am going to hit a wall soon; the point where work has to begin. 

For some reason I feel better today, probably because I haven’t had time to monitor my thoughts closely.  Also I have joined the choir and I don’t know how to feel about it. Okay, maybe I do. I went and my mind has changed again. I guess I like it right now, at least for now.  I will wait for a few more days till I know for sure what to feel. Right now I am on the fast lane and everything is going too quickly to process. So I will get back to you when things slow down a bit. Till then rev your engines. Adios.

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I have started this series as an attempt to catalogue my raw emotions whether it is in the colour of liquid morning sunrise or pale translucent moonlight. This diary style approach is an attempt to motivate myself while being true to my real emotions. I have moved out of home for the first time to pursue my education with renewed fervour, and every step is an attempt at adulting. I hope that my readers will be with me every step of the way and I know that I have to grow some horns and be ready for battle. And if this journaling helps someone along the way, I would have done what I sought out to. Change is no respecter of persons, so let’s evolve together.

Picture credits: Pexels

 

Sunlight and Moonlight 3

He is my passing wind

I woke up in the morning to the sound of a balloon bursting in the left corner of the room, where we hang our laundry baskets with weeks old unwashed clothes. It was my roommate’s birthday and her friends came at 12 sharp, decorated her room with bright streamers and left two balloons on my bed for comfort I suppose. I remember opening my eyes and seeing the silhouette of what was clearly a happy birthday party. I stirred but didn’t allow my eyes to flutter open. I wasn’t mentally ready for this kind of a confrontation, because my spirits were low, mostly lost. Maybe I didn’t want to face the guilt of the responsibility of doing something for her, she was my roommate after all.   And all roommate’s have expectations.

I woke up in the morning in the same clothes I went to bed last night. The last memory I had was, day before yesterday’s dinner. My friend and myself after a wild night out, came back to our room starving. We made four packets of steaming hot maggi, piled it on our plates and went to our terrace. Hot maggi and a windy dark sky with music with a friend is the place to be. We pregamed on dessert, where we dipped a cold steel knife into a jar of chocolate and spread it on slices of soft bread. I ended up sleeping on the terrace. As for yesterday, we had a spicy gravy that smothered an odd combination of ridge gourd and potatoes into a delectable flavour. I came back to my room and crashed to blur out the night, to blur out the image of the passing wind; Him. 

Anyway, I managed to leave my room a little early to meet him. We shared my packed breakfast and he put some money into my wallet. The only thing I wanted at that moment was the magical ability to put him into my pocket, so that he can always be with me. I don’t have to share him with anybody. I don’t have to share him with the sky, the winds or the greedy soil. I wished we had more time. I wish we had at least enough time to make me feel that this is real. And even if it isn’t, I am going to smile a little more or maybe cry little harder. I am gonna submit to the wave of my love filled heart and crash into the crimson shores, where my lover waits for me.

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I have started this series as an attempt to catalogue my raw emotions whether it is in the colour of liquid morning sunrise or pale translucent moonlight. This diary style approach is an attempt to motivate myself while being true to my real emotions. I have moved out of home for the first time to pursue my education with renewed fervour, and every step is an attempt at adulting. I hope that my readers will be with me every step of the way and I know that I have to grow some horns and be ready for battle. And if this journaling helps someone along the way, I would have done what I sought out to. Change is no respecter of persons, so let’s evolve together.

Picture credits: Pexels

Sunlight and Moonlight 2

Connected with the sky

13th June 2019:
I think the unbelief and numbness is wearing off and yesterday for the first time, realisation hit and deep inside I knew I was happy. I had such a surreal experience when my friend and I decided to go up to the terrace and take in the view. We were not mentally prepared for the grandeur of the dark skies, with hazy clouds skimming past it like children going on their first school outing. The moon was shy, discreetly glowing behind the veil of the white cotton balls. I don’t know if it is just the height of the building, but the realm of emotions that cascaded my body is really hard to articulate.

I stood against the parapet wall staring, not vacantly but experientially, almost feeling one, taking in the winds of universal freedom. The cool wind raged against me like a cold water splash, reminding me of the opportunity the stars have granted me. Standing there playing my favourite music, drinking in the sky like a glass of deep nectar. I was completely in tune with myself. The self I had a has brought me here. The self I want to be. And most of all the self I was at that moment. And that night I slept well, like a baby wrapped in the blanket of night.

I am heading out to college in a bit and I am excited to see what the day brings me. I know there will overwhelming moments, educative moments, emotional moments, inspirational moments but if that moment forces me to evolve and become a better version of myself, then I’m all up for it.

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The morning after the rough night

14th June, 2019:
I haven’t felt this rested for a long time and I feel like a butterfly soaring in fields of green. However romanticised that sounds, it’s a feeling worth experiencing. Most nights, especially when you are awake, tossing and turning in bed feels like the unhurried crawl of a snail travelling painfully slow. And last night was a night like that. I came back home, half walking, half running in an attempt to hit the bed, before my migraine bursts into flame.

It started with a bout of yawning in class, coupled with dehydration and I remember falling asleep for 15 minutes in class. I woke up with feeble pounding like a weak pulse that made sure its presence was not just known but felt. Eventually, after I kept ignoring it, it decided to test me further. The best way I can explain how a migraine feels for me personally is by a small analogy. Imagine that your standing in a white spacious room, this is your brain at normalcy.

Then imagine that the room being fitted with high-quality speakers with intense bass from head to toe. Sounds pretty fun at this point? Then imagine the walls being compressed to such an extent your arms start hurting from the pressure. Imagine there is no space to even turn your head and you have to try extra hard to breathe. Then imagine the speakers all around you, being cranked up even louder till you want to scream and yell. That’s how the pounding feels like.

It doesn’t stop there. Imagine having your eyes forced open and colourful flashy strobe lights are being flashed all over your face. That’s how light perception feels. And that’s why the darkness is your best friend. Coupled with that, imagine that your cramped little room with pulsating music and intense light is suddenly being towed away. The road is rocky and as you’re being tossed to and fro, hitting your head against the metal. That’s nausea for you. Then imagine people, even loved ones trying to engage in conversation with you and it sounds like swarms of grating echoes. That my friend is what it feels like when a migraine knocks on your front door.

Talking about the above is not an attempt to extract pity, maybe empathy. But only when you have nights like this will you be able to appreciate the pleasant airy morning that soon follows. I now appreciate the little things in life. Like the window right in front of my desk that opens out to a bustling street. I appreciate the full-length mirror outside my room and helps me love myself. I appreciate the morning calm and yes, even the morning chatter. And most of all I appreciate my loved ones, who haven’t given up on me, even if it seemed like I had given up on them through the rough night. People, I appreciate you and that goes on to you as well, my readers. Never give up on people, cause people are the conduits of love and refreshing.

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I have started this series as an attempt to catalogue my raw emotions whether it is in the colour of liquid morning sunrise or pale translucent moonlight. This diary style approach is an attempt to motivate myself while being true to my real emotions. I have moved out of home for the first time to pursue my education with renewed fervour, and every step is an attempt at adulting. I hope that my readers will be with me every step of the way and I know that I have to grow some horns and be ready for battle. And if this journaling helps someone along the way, I would have done what I sought out to. Change is no respecter of persons, so let’s evolve together.

Picture credits: Pexels

SUNRISE AND MOONLIGHT

11th June, 2019

Moving out for the first time

You won’t believe where I am right now. I am sitting on my laptop in a room that doesn’t resemble my tan walls. These walls are pale yellow like the colour of baked sunlight. My queen size bed is replaced with a single bed leaning against a wall with two plug points. Sockets have suddenly become real important. One for my phone and other for my handy laptop that heaves last breath like sighs.

I have a metal cupboard with just enough space for my 18 salwars that hang like conjoined men outside a bar. I showered in a moss green bathroom and realised that steamy hot water is available even on the other side of the city.

I haven’t written for two days and my hands have been yearning to click at the black keys and watch strings of words magically appear on the screen. I have had a long day and my eyes are heavy with sleep but this is something I cannot compromise on. So I’m just gonna try to write without worrying by airing out the smell of perfectionism.

Today is the day for many firsts. I climbed 9 flights of stairs for the first time. I took a walk to a nearby mall with a new friend for the first time. I am going to spend a night with a roommate for the first time. I woke up at 2:30 am, packed a bag of clothes, booked a cab; and moved out of home for the first time. I am finally doing me for the first time.

I have got a new slate and it’s time to write my story. And when I say my story, I truly mean my story without any external monitoring or rerouting. I finally can chalk out a plan and actually achieve it, because for the first time there is no one in my way. I am adulting and with that comes the responsibility of not laxing but working harder than ever. And that is what I plan to.

Too much has been invested in me to just be average. I am a fire breathing dragon in a pool of house lizards. I need to do this for myself. Competition or not, I have to put my everything and everything is enough to be a world changer. I have embarked on a new journey and greatness shines at the end of the road, and I tread boldly with intention and clarity.

I will leave you for now with a quote that is keeping me motivated at the moment. It is a call that gets my heart beating faster and my blood boiling in the best way. “Work hard in silence. Let your success be the noise”.

And I hope your’e prepared with some earplugs.

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12th June, 2019

Creating my world from scratch

I have woken up one and a half hours before my alarm was set to ring. I forgot about the snooze button, instead was motivated to get up and running. My mind is calm like distilled water plopping drop by drop on a fresh leaf of dawn. I have always been curtailed by invisible boundaries but everything I had to do was impeded by the directives of others. But no, today is my day. This is my world. This is my mind and all I have to do is to actually embrace this new beginning. The light is not hanging in the houses of others, it is blazing in the lamp inside me.

I need to tap into this powerful feeling of independence and hit the road. I know that this good feeling is at the peak now, but when the avalanche of life hits me, I got to hold my ground and climb back up. Climb back up. Slowly. Steadily. Persistently. I will conquer the mountain.

One of the many reasons I am still writing is because I need to pick myself when the hailstones pick up pace. I write because when things aren’t going as planned and by life, I need to remember this moment. This new day when I woke up, grateful for a new slate. I’m in a completely new environment and my writing feels hurdled. But I am gonna start from the basics and get back to the magic that draws words out.

I am a creeper that encounters a new wall and makes it home. I plan to grow unhindered, twirling; creeping densely and making my presence felt. It is not a one day process, and I am going to give myself a chance to be consistent. To grow everyday, to beat previous records, to take the stairs and beat the elevator. Carpe Diem. And this is for you too.

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I have started this series as an attempt to catalogue my raw emotions whether it is in the colour of liquid morning sunrise or pale translucent moonlight. This diary style approach is an attempt to motivate myself while being true to my real emotions. I have moved out of home for the first time to pursue my education with renewed fervour, and every step is an attempt at adulting. I hope that my readers will be with me every step of the way and I know that I have to grow some horns and be ready for battle. And if this journaling helps someone along the way, I would have done what I sought out to. Change is no respecter of persons, so let’s evolve together.

Picture credits: Pexels