A Kind Soul

-
Has it ever happened to you that in the middle of a heated argument, when you are trying so hard to establish your point with concrete facts and solid evidence, you start CRYING ๐Ÿ˜ค? It's that moment where you want people to listen to you, to take you seriously than they ever have and you just CAN'T HOLD YOUR GODDAMN TEARS. What kind of an influence do these feeble water droplets hold over someone? As this relay of stinging words progresses, tears start forming a storm inside your core, waiting poorly to escape the throat. Impeding brain signals, these tiny monsters jump out in advance to make a scene and tarnish your whole stance. Embarrassing, isn't it? The impact of your gravity is as negligible as calculus in real-life mathematics. Of all the things that I absolutely despise about myself, this one still remains on top, undefeated. 

Talking about self aversion, I don't think this is how I was naturally built. I mean aren't we all pious flowers of god and as we grow up, we become a poisonous dense forest surrounded by an unbreakable fence of mortified energy. I am the helpless victim of my inferior feelings who have chained me in an anxious dungeon; but am I truly helpless? I don't know! At this point I am pretty sure that you, reader, have started to feel that this is a pity blog, poor Ankita, letting her insecurity run her bubbly world. Maybe this is what you think it is but do I give a rat's ass? Hell no! Funny how if I had been writing this a few days ago, I would have gone to all the alternate universes to take account of all your thoughts about me. Had I been the same person I was in the Kerala trip, I would have drowned in the sea of shame, vanity and abomination. 

Like I mentioned earlier, I didn't want to dislike me, I didn't choose to cry in the middle of an argument, I didn't decide to look unattractive, I didn't demand to be stupid and the worst of all, I didn't mean to be a devotee of honesty. I wasn't in charge of my involuntary feelings. Endlessly fighting the battle of what's good for me with regard to my family, I just lost control. Because of this ghastly situation, every emotion that I once overcame became my mortal enemy. I was rejected for being fat, short, having a poor paycheck, too foreign of a career choice, extremely opinionated, unapologetically unforgiving and for not being good enough by looks or appearance. And this isn't just one person's opinion, so yeah it is my ultimate reality check. Like the food pyramid, our emotions also have a chain that starts with our family, friends and then our inner most self. This chain thwarted all good things about me and negated my self-confidence. 

Enough about what I find intolerable about me. Let's talk about the one thing that I would not like to get rid of, is not making any commitments. But what of the commitments that I made subconsciously to my family, to my friends and to myself? If I don't tear myself off of the shame that I carry, the unfulfillment of these commitments would surely be my downfall. This massive weight of guilt has made me so weak that I let people insult my purest feelings for them; that I just stand there, waiting to be gushed over by their unconscionable expectations. And still feeling regret when sometimes I can't stand it; if this is not weakness then I don't know what is. The desperation to please is precarious; it is the easiest form of addiction and one is often at risk of overdoing it. 

In a world full of letting people down, I just want to be enough for somebody, just as I am. But can I be that person for myself first? I think I was, and I would like to be so again. So here I am, taking measures to be my best self that brought me happiness, where I was content with myself. Seeking validation from exterior means somehow seems manageable, but finding that within yourself is a true test of your patience. And this wait could be very daunting, the more you want it to be over, the farther it will stretch itself. Whether you manage to hold on to it or whether you cling back to your older toxic self, ultimately you have to pay the price. I for once, would never ever like to go back where I could not live with myself. When I seldom showed myself an ounce of love, when I let the guilt consume every inch of my being, where the only word I uttered was 'sorry' and when I couldn't outrun suicidal thoughts. 

Words are the sharpest knives yet they can't cut through the earnest apologies ๐Ÿ˜‡!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Is it a cage or is it a maze?

-
Image
There is a notepad on my table. It has a picture of me from the Manali trip that I took with my friends 2 years ago. Around the picture, the white cover has black illustration of icons of a thousand different things that are to be dealt with when you are working into digital marketing and copywriting. The book is spiral bind and the quality of the pages inside is pretty darn good. On the back cover, the same illustration like feel is there but only with the significant personalities at the previous company I used to work at. The DViO lingo and the nuances that might happen everyday in that office. It's a pretty good notepad, not only to look at but feel the pages and actually write in it. On the front cover it says, Ankita's Thinkpad. Every morning when I would open my laptop, the thinkpad, sitting in the corner, would stare at me, not saying anything at all. But the other day when I was about to punch out, the illustrations of the thinkpad came to life and started yelling at m...
Read more

เค†เคฎเคšे เค•ाเค•ा

-
Image
เค†เคฎเคšे เค†เคฆเคฐเคฃीเคฏ เค†เคฃि เคฒाเคกเค•े เค•ाเค•ा, เค†เคฎเคš्เคฏा เค†เคฏुเคท्เคฏाเคคเคฒ्เคฏा เคคुเคฎเคš्เคฏा เค…เค—เคฆी เคฎोเค—เคฑ्เคฏा เคธाเคฐเค–्เคฏा เคธเคนเคตाเคธाเคฒा เคชूเคฐ्เคฃเคตिเคฐाเคฎ เคฒाเค—ूเคจ เค†เคœ เฅงเฅซ เคฆिเคตเคธ เคाเคฒे. เค…เคœूเคจเคนी เคกोเคณ्เคฏा เคธเคฎोเคฐ เคคुเคฎเคšा เคคो เคธเคฆा เคนเคธเคฎुเค– เคšेเคนเคฐा, เคคुเคฎเคšी เค—ोเคฒ เคŸोเคชी, เคคो เค•ाเคณा เคšเคท्เคฎा เคœ्เคฏाเคš्เคฏाเคค เค…เค—เคฆी เคเค–ाเคฆ्เคฏा เคนिเคฐो เคธाเคฐเค–े เคฆिเคธाเคฏเคšे เคคुเคฎ्เคนी, เคนि เค›เคฌी เคœเคถी เค˜เคฐ เค•เคฐूเคจ เคฌเคธเคฒीเคฏे เค†เคฎเคš्เคฏा เคกोเคณ्เคฏांเคš्เคฏा เค“เคฒ्เคฏा เคชाเคชเคฃ्เคฏाเคค. เค•เคงी เคนि เคจं เคญेเคŸเคฒेเคฒ्เคฏा เคต्เคฏเค•्เคคी เคฒा, เคชเคนिเคฒ्เคฏाเคš เคญेเคŸीเคค, เค…เค—เคฆी เค•ाเคนी เค•्เคทเคฃांเคคเคš เค†เคชเคฒंเคธं เค•เคฐूเคจ เค˜ेเคฃे, เค†เคชเคฒ्เคฏा เคฆिเคฒเค–ुเคฒाเคธ เคต्เคฏเค•्เคคिเคฎเคค्เคค्เคตाเคคूเคจ เคธเคฎोเคฐเคš्เคฏाเคฒा เคชूเคฐ्เคฃเคชเคฃे เคนเคฐเคชूเคจ เคŸाเค•เคฃे, เคนे เคคुเคฎเคšे เคธ्เคตเคญाเคต เคตैเคถिเคท्เคŸ्เคฏ เคธाเคฐเค–े เค†เคฎเคš्เคฏा เคฎเคจाเคค เค˜िเคฐเคŸ्เคฏा เค˜ाเคฒเคค เค†เคนेเคค. เคช्เคฐเคค्เคฏेเค• เคตेเคณी เคกाเคฏเคฒिเคธिเคธ เคฒा เค—ेเคฒे เค•ि เค•ुเค เคฒी เคกिเคถ เค†เคœ เคจाเคท्เคŸ्เคฏा เคฎเคง्เคฏे เค–ाเคฏเคšी เค†เคนे เคนे เคฏेเคคाเคจाเคš เค เคฐเคตเคฃाเคฐ, เคฎเค— เคคी เคตाเคกेเคถ्เคตเคฐ เคšे เคฅाเคฒीเคชीเค  เค…เคธुเคฆे เค•ि เคตैเคถाเคฒी เคšी spdp. เคชुเคฃ्เคฏाเคค เค†เคฒे เค•ि เคชूเคจा เคฌोเคฐ्เคกिंเค— เคนाเคŠเคธ เคšं เคคुเคฎเคšं เค†เคตเคกเคคं เคฌ्เคฐाเคน्เคฎเคฃी เคœेเคตเคฃ, เคฎเคฒा เคจाเคนी เคตाเคŸเคค เคฎเคฒा เค…เคธं เค•เคงी เคเคฐเคตी เค–ाเคฏเคฒा เคฎिเคณाเคฒं เค…เคธเคคं. เคถाเคฐीเคฐिเค• เคคเคฌ्เคฏेเคค เคนी เคคेเคต्เคนाเคš เคฌเคณเค•เคŸ เค…เคธเคคे เคœेเคต्เคนा เค†เคชเคฃ เค†เคคूเคจ เค–ुเคถ เค…เคธเคคो, เค†เคชเคฒं เคฎเคจ เค†เคจंเคฆी เค…เคธเคคं, เค†เคฃि เคฏा เคธเค—เคณ्เคฏाเคšी เค—ुเคฐुเค•िเคฒ्เคฒी เคชเคฃ เค†เคชเคฒ्เคฏाเคš เคนाเคคाเคค เค…เคธเคคे เคนे เคฎी เคคुเคฎเคš्เคฏा เค•เคกे เคฌเค˜ूเคจเคš เคถिเค•เคฒेเคฏ. เคฏोเค—ाเคฏोเค—ाเคจे เค‰เคฐुเคณीเคฒा เค•िंเคตा เค•เคงी เคคुเคฎ्เคนी เคธिเคŸीเคค เค†เคฒे เค•ि เคคुเคฎ्เคนाเคฒा เคญ...
Read more