Random // Life update.

A random blog.

I know I’m late, but I’ll let this out anyway. Approximately two months ago, I lost someone, a big piece my heart. My grandmother.

She was well, the only grandparent I had, both, maternal and paternal. If you’ve read my previous blogs, you might know how her condition was deteriorating by every second.

My grandmother was bedridden. She was, for the last 6 years. We had a few caretakers over the span of 6 years. Being a typical oldie, she picked up quarrels with all of the caretakers my mom hired, mom and me ended up doing all the work. With being bedridden, she also had Alzheimer’s, clinically accepted and as she just remembered nothing. Paired with Alzheimer’s she also had Parkinson’s. Cutting to the chase, the last meal anyone fed her was me. We were sitting on her bed, where I fed her porrage, considering the fact she shooed away all the caretakers and told them to call me. After I fed her, I made her sleep, patting her head, unaware it would be the last meal she’d ever eat. I sat besides her when she was sleeping, all alone in the house, unaware of the fact I was sitting besides my dead grandmother’s physical body. I had no idea what had happened, she was breathing, but she was brain-dead. My mom came home after two hours, I told her how my grandmother had been sleeping since the last 4 hours. My mom tried to wake her up, shook her, ran a spoon across her foot, tried to wake her up, until the doctors were called in. It was a rainy day, bundled with thundering and lightning, I knew a storm was approaching. It was 1AM, mom was still in the hospital, while I was told to take care of the house like everytime. I slept. I heard some voices when I was asleep, it was mom and all the relatives. I rushed to the other room, the storm, the rains had ended. Mom told me my grandmother passed away, a natural death, in the house itself. We had been taking care of her since 6+ years now. We knew the pain she was in. In the year 2016, she was admitted in the ICU, for 13 times. We knew her pain. We didn’t cry, we bid her goodbye, with a smile on our faces, remembering the strong lady in our hearts, who pulled it off and conquered death since the last 6 years.

Since we’ve completed the last rites and rituals of her, I could hear voices, I had weird dreams. I wasn’t in the state of mind to talk about this, or anything in general. Now I’m in a way better place in my life. I sure miss her, but everything happens for the good.

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5 years of change.

Goodluck if you thought this blog was how puberty hit me. It isn’t about puberty. The eyes have seen much more. The heart has felt much more. Life is livable now.

It’s been 5 years. It’s been 5 years since I’ve undergone many changes in my life. Mentally, physically, socially, I’ve changed as an individual. I’ve been broken, but I’ve been mending myself as well, better than before. I’ve realised how I needed to change and how I needed to cherish my life, despite having to fight all the odds. I hope life will get better, but I don’t want to ignore the small ray of hope of life getting better. 

5 years ago, I didn’t have friends. I had people around me, who didn’t care as much. People I rarely spoke to, people who never respected my thought processes, people who liked living in a box. How does it feel being surrounded by so many people who oppose you, and you cannot escape? Basically this was my school life in a sentence. I always felt out of place. But eventually life has been considerate with the people I have been interacting with. I’ve got the best group of friends right now, people who understand me and have a similar thought process. Everything makes sense and fits perfectly. Just hang on, better things will come to you. It took me 5 years to leave behind people who were close to me, but were just superficial friends. Trust me and hang on.

The last 5 years have been an emotional ride. I’ve lost many people, been used by people, and been bullied a lot as well. Let’s not forget to sadness which later on, turned into depression. Well it’s been 5 years and I’ve decided to focus on the positives more than the negatives. I have just become emotionally really stronger which will hopefully help me in long run. Every one who left, thank you. I can’t thank you enough.

I had ‘best’ friends. Kinda. Yes I did, but I never knew it wasn’t the best for either of us. It was always one sided, where people eventually left me. It was very superficial and very fake, everything we spoke about was just very lame. Friendship based on needs and ignorance don’t last long. 5 years, no best friend. But then something happened, I texted a guy for help, only if we knew it would turn into something really special. Yes, he is my first best friend, someone I can actually trust on. Just the fact we’ve got each others back, helps alot at times. Well maybe, this is what acceptance​ feels like. This is what meeting the right person after 5 years seems like. 

Don’t do bad to you. If I ever had to give my past self an advice, it would be, don’t do bad to you. Don’t let people inflict any kind of pain on you. Don’t be with people who tell your dreams are out of way and you cannot achieve them. Don’t be with people who don’t find you worth. Don’t let anyone affect you in a negative way.  Don’t let people question your self esteem. Just drift away, slowly, and cherish the one thing you’ll always have, yourself.

These five years have changed me. Happiness is my first priority and I mean it. I just feel free now. Cheers to change. Let’s change and become good human beings, that’s all that matters, at the end of the day.

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Random // Happiness.

I caught myself smiling at 11:55. Just so randomly. I might’ve never been this happy in the recent times. I honestly don’t know what just happened. I’m just really happy. I’m listening to Miley Cyrus Malibu and my best friend just gave me a really good news right now. I just realised how cute are the people around me. How I’ve been celebrating literally every happy thing in life recently. It’s just, I’ve started to appreciate these happy phases. It’s just I’m really happy right now and I cannot express it enough. 

I just believe a lot in the power of love. Not love, as in the romantic part. Love from your friends. Love from your partner. Love from you best friend. It just changes you as a person. I can see it changing me as a person. I’ve started loving people more than I ever did. I’ve started telling people I love them. 

Thank you, Miley Cyrus. Thank you, Malibu and the lyrics, for making so much sense and just being a happy song all together. Even though I’m not the happiest, in general right now. But this moment, this very second I’m typing this, feels heavenly. It just feels like, what I was missing from the last few years, happiness. I don’t think anyone tried to do anything. It was just a really happy situation around me and I had to light up. It’s just this moment is how I want my life to be. Just Happy and personal growth. I just want to be a good human being. A person someone could look upto and something my family wanted me to be.  It’s just a really very happy moment for me. I can see myself growing and that’s what I wanted.

I just thought how different life would be, if I hadn’t been​ with the right people. People not judging me, never asking me to tell them my life stories. Just celebrating every moment with them. I’m around people who want to see me happy.

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Random // My Rapist.

I can just feel her. She took care of me and taught me being sensitive. She caught my body and strangled me till I gave up. At first, I didn’t. She slowly enticed my body and entered it. She broke my self esteem and will to live. A tortured soul, in one, already imperfect body. She found my scars, turned them into cuts. Eventually turned into wounds. She didn’t let the previous ones to heal. Wound after wound, something died. Not me. Not my will. Just my soul. Day by day, making me regret to ever to open up. Day by day, bit by bit, destroying me, my dreams. No shiny eyes, no a smile on the face. Suffocation made me give up. You turned my life into misery. You forced me to cleanse myself. Scrubbing so hard, I’d bleed, I’d cry. Lived in depression and everyone called it normal. No one understood. Not even you. I hope I had someone I could talk to. I just feel so vulnerable everyday. 
 

Dear​ mom. You rape my soul. 

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Random // Dead Inside.

​I still wonder how can people not see a dead person. A person dead from inside. No hopes, no goals, just going with the flow. Whenever he tried to oppose the flow, people showed him his box. “Don’t get out of this”, everyone ordered, from their imaginary boxes, which they were told to never escape. No one tried to escape, ever. Just as dead as everyone else, there came a new addition, to the so called “society”, a monotonous addition. I mean, it’s obvious to see dead people right? Pretty visible. Only if everyone knew they are better actors than Oscar winning performancea these days. They’re just people tired of living and scared of dying, they’re kinda the intermediate phase, make it or break it phase. Everyday of their life, is not a war. It’s just, the same. As it was a week, month or even a year ago. With zero motivation, they go a long mile, in doing the most beautiful thing anyone could ever do. Live. They live. Not to the fullest, but upto some extent, they do live. With a small ray of light, with a pinch of hope of things getting better eventually. Even though, they live in the box, they dream about breaking through the box. Being every stereotype, they ever hated,  passing the box, from generation to generation. Making a world of living dead people. 

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School.

I was just talking to my best friend and realised how it had been one year since I left school and started with my college. I just realised how drastically things have changed and how messed up my school life was. 

How things have changed.

I am an introverted person in real life, but yes, I did have friends in school. Well, so called friends. I just realised that I haven’t made any friend in the 13 years of my school life. At first, it felt worthless, but know it just feels perfect. I waited for the right people and got the best people. I don’t deny, I had no friends in school. I was alone and lonely. I used to spend my lunch breaks alone. I just opened my tiffin, just sat there for around 5 minutes. I used to get embarrassed when everyone had eaten their food and I was the only one eating. I used to pack it all back and put it in my bag, as if I had eaten something. I didn’t see anyone willing to be friends with me. Maybe because of my appearance? My height? I’d never know. No one liked me for some reason I’d never know. People judged me for my interests, height, stuttering, shyness and the way I was. I wasn’t into sports. Everyone played football and I never did. I just didn’t want to. It was never my Interest. I used to sit alone, in the sports room, just alone, doing nothing. Even worse, at times I’d just go to the washroom, and sit in there for like 40 minutes until the class ended. If I was lucky, there would be girls who’d play chess in the sports room. I’d catch-up with them. Which contributed to the rumour, that I was gay and a girl. Ofcourse it made no sense but it affected me as an Individual. I thought I wasn’t ‘man enough’. This made me have a really low self esteem. No guy spoke to me. People just called me off for being ‘girly’ and I was just made fun off. This made me go away from everyone. I distanced myself from everyone. I didn’t speak to people, I didn’t trust people easily. I didn’t reply to people calling me gay, but somewhere deep inside, it did affect my self esteem, alot. I became, just a sadder person overall. Here enters the hero of my story, depression. Yes, there were days I used to cry in the washrooms, I used to cry in the lunch breaks, I used to cry during the teachers taught us. But no one actually cared or saw me. I was just, invisible for some reason. Ofcourse this made me feel worse about myself. I didn’t open up to people as well, until this one time. There was this guy in my class who I never liked to be honest. But we bonded over family and how similar our lives were. We were in the 10th and we had to give this very important final examination. A few days later, we became best friends. That’s what I thought. I finally started feeling good about myself. I was really happy after a long time. I saw him drifting apart for no apparent reason. I saw him ignoring me in front of our class. I saw him avoiding me. But the stupid old me still tried really very hard to regain his attention. After all failed attempts, I just established the fact that everyone will eventually leave me, because I’m not worth it. A few months later, we had the examination that I was talking about. Comes out that he used me just for the examination. A year worth of friendship, just for an examination. I was broken again. But things got worse. People labelled me as a person who uses people. Only if they knew the truth. This is how people broke my self esteem. This is how depression hit me a year ago. This is how I learned to let go. 

I honestly don’t blame anyone for putting me through this. It just, made me a stronger person. A person aware of the possibilities and how destructive people can be. Thank you for giving me the will power and the faith, of things getting better and choosing the right people. Going against all odds and supporting the right people. More than anything, thank you for making me, me. 

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Random // Guess who’s back.

Random 12:30AM thought.

Source

The thing is my mom doesnt understand that what I’m going through. She has a mind of a 56 year old. She forgets if she’s facing all of this, I’m too, and something she doesn’t realise I’m just 16. Where all of the kids are happy and joyful, I’m dead inside, dying, slowly, everyday. No options , no opinion, no opposition. Just going along the flow, to see where the force leads me to. Being uninterested is a part of me. I never chose being boring, I just don’t have the motivation to do something fun. 

My mom sees me, my health, my interest, deteriorating. But I see the same happening to my grandmother. Maybe she doesn’t know whom to save, a new soul or a dying soul. 

Talking about saving souls, there are times when you save yourself, but over a period of time, you just don’t want to. You except the scenario, and start living in the world. You don’t expect things to get better, and neither you want to end things. You don’t want to solve them yourself and don’t expect them to get better. You just label it as your ‘life’. A life you hope no one ever lives.

 Whilst living your ‘life’ you start helping people and understand them. Even though you know running away is never the solution, you think of suicide. But what’s worst? You don’t have the guts. You, somewhere deep below, still have that ray of light, about things getting better.

  Talking about suicide, you see new shows which show how shallow and easy to commit, suicide is. Just buy a few razors and slit your wrist. People don’t understand, it’s not easy. It’s easier to suffer. It’s easier to face. It’s easier to get affected. But it’s not easy to quit.

  The fear of suicide contributes to living a boring and monotonous life. It’s better than a 9 to 5 desk job, with better acceptance. 

  Being boring and monotonous causes you to go away and distance yourself from people, usually the fake ones. Reclusing yourself from literally everyone and going to find out the one who can light up your mood, expecting you to find someone.

  And then expectations kill reality, you’re labelled​ as a person who uses people for your own wellbeing. Ofcourse, contributing to prefer staying alone, away, from everyone. 

  And yes, family included. They have an idea about something being wrong in your life, but you can’t help in hiding the truth. You could be righteous and tell the truth, or tell them you just overslept and make them feel content. Choosing the prior seems practical.

  Hiding away your anxiety, locking yourself away in the room and sitting in a corner for hours, nothing seems to entertain you. Just a lifeless soul with a functioning exterior. 

  Sitting in your room, someone knocks.

  “I’m back”, says depression.