It’s the date of departure and other than making lists I’ve done nothing much. My bus is in a couple of hours and I’m excited.
An amazing conversation with my partner and a very helpful mail chain with a co blogger, helped sort my mind out.
So… adios lame lazy world. I’m off to live it up rough for as long as I need to find my bearings 🙂 I’m off on my Great Goan Adventure!
If there was a list of my favourite things to do then making lists would probably top that list. So to calm my nerves a bit… I made lists.
List of things to pack. List of places to see. Things to do. Things not to do. And not making lists topped that list.
I’m still extremely excited. But given the events that happened over the last some time, I’m now not sure if leaving now is the right thing to do. I definitely cannot afford a trip which serves no purpose different from what my house here serves. Definitely not financially.
So still excited but also very apprehensive. Confused. Wish I had someone to speak to who could help me get clarity. Maybe I’ll just make a pro con list.
I know I meant to start the Goan adventure diary only once I reach Goa but I just had to share.
I’m excited. Extremely excited. I’m also very very nervous. I’m jittery. I can’t feel myself. That excited. That nervous. Also very scared.
Of what I might do when I’m there. But who cares. All part of the adventure right? 🙂
This part of my journey I shall dedicate to Alexander Supertramp. For embarking on the quest to find answers. For inspiring millions. For Into The Wild.
Given where I have reached in terms of dealing with bipolar and with my past… I decided to go explore, experience, enjoy. To try finding my soul before losing it to the corporate world. To give myself a chance to be a writer before giving up on it. So with help from my ex and the remnants of what was once my savings, I’ve decided to go to goa for a couple of months. Hampi, maybe. North East, if I can afford it.
Keeping in mind my goal… to break out of this lazy comfort zone my plush apartment in Bangalore provides me with… I found a studio apartment with a kitchenette and bathroom within my budget. Spoke to a friend who co-owns a cafe there and can work with them for a stipend and food.
So armed with nothing but a spirit of adventure I’m off in 2 days to feel, dance, sing, write, read, walk, see, explore, imagine, accept, understand… to breathe!
Starting today I shall write about each day. Not about the activities like a log. But about something… what I thought or felt or was inspired by.
My Great Goan adventure journal.
A kind word… a gentle touch… a warm hug can all go a really long way. Someone, whether they understand it or not, appreciating you for how far you’ve come can help you more than any anti depressant. Well… almost.
But what if the people in your life are tired of your repeated failures. Your broken promises. Your pull towards self destruction. What then? What if all they want is to push you to do better. Get better. Improve.
Do they not realise that what seem like normal progress for them are huge realisations for you? That even if your next realisation makes this one moot, it’s still a journey you’ve to go through? That this time is different because you’re actually aware… but the process is still going to be extremely difficult. That saying good job but you’ve a lot more to do isn’t really appreciation?
If I was physically disabled and climbed up half a mountain and gave up, would you shun me for the half I didn’t climb or appreciate me for even taking one step? Yes you’d push me to try again or do better next time. But wouldn’t that be after celebrating my success however small it might be?
I know this is my journey. I have to do it alone. But when I have no parents or family so to speak… is it wrong that I look at you for the support and appreciation I crave? I know it’s not fair on you. You are just human. But so am I. And I’m hurt. I want help. Protection. Appreciation.
I am working on appreciating myself. Celebrating my wins. Sometimes even my failures coz I know soon I won’t have them again so repeatedly. I have 2 mobile numbers just for me to msg myself with advice and appreciation. I talk to myself, hug myself, Pat myself on the head when I can’t control the crying… and again, for someone recovering from disassociation, it’s not an easy thing. So sometimes… just sometimes I wish i was not the only person saying kudos to myself.
Sex… I’ve had a lot of it. More than most people I know. Evidently I should be quite good at it right?
Sadly I’m not.
For a major part of my life I’ve had things done to me while I’ve acted asleep. This means I felt things, had mind numbing experiences and climaxed all while pretending to be fast asleep and not reacting.
Ironically I grew up thinking I’ll have sex only after marriage. And despite living in with my boyfriend during college, i never had sex with him. But then life took an interesting turn and I crashed. Desperate to please and prove to my new boy friend that I love him… I had sex. Amazing carefree sex. For a while.He then hurt me, insulted me, videotaped me and embarrassed me. In a lonely desperate horrible night I hooked up with his friend who then became my husband. The one guy who actually cared for me. But by then I split.
She had sex. She was confident. She could flirt, toy, tease, seduce and make you scream with happiness.
Now with therapy and self therapy… I’m only me. There is no she. When someone touches me or talks to me, there is noone for me to turn to. To become.
I don’t know to have sex. I don’t know how or what to do. And I can’t watch videos! With what I’ve learnt from movies and what I can with following instinct… I do my best. I moan and react. Scream and clench. But I think I’m just acting.
I wish I had someone much older… much more mature… who would teach me, guide me, hold me when I cry knowing that it’s not about him, push me gently to explore… to make love. I wish I knew love.
My first instinct during a mentally bad situation has always been to run away. Go clear my head and then return. My upbringing has taught me to not indulge those instincts and stay and sort things out.
So recently when the urge came to pack my bags and go stay in Goa for as long as my finances would let me… despite it making sense to the people around me I confide in… I couldn’t help but wonder whether I’m still just running away. Today I realised i was.
Being from a very superficially close knit family, I’ve never had my own space. Our house was always full of people and we weren’t allowed to close room doors. Add this ruckus to the existing chaos in my mind… and well, running away was all I could think of. After I became independent, my need to get away increased with the realisation that I had gotten myself more entangled into this web without any awareness. I had more people in my life I was answerable to, accountable to. I had no time, space or thought that was mine.
Today I have successfully managed to cut all these people off. Undo the strings that were choking me to suffocation. And I realised, I don’t need to run away to goa. I can get my space wherever I am, agnostic of the conditions around me.
I will go to goa now… to write, experience, explore… but not to run away.
Today swimming in the pool at my apartment club house which I’ve resisted going just in case I bump into humans… I took the first step to being me.