Off the grid

I’m not ok. I went to watch a play today. And I felt so low and lonely and disconnected from a world that used to be mine. One to which I belonged… And how.

I miss it. I crave the adrenaline. I miss the creativity. The rush of creating something. Something that’s yours. That you conceived. That you partook in. That you…

Forget creating one… I am not even function enough to go watch one.

I’m always so tired. Of life. The world. Everything.

Is it normal to feel this tired? And I’m so fat. I didn’t realise I’d become this huge. When I look at my pics, I don’t relate to them. Coz in my head I look like something else.

I’m so disconnect from reality. In so many ways. My disassociation seems like the last thing keeping me off the grid.

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Irony

Very low. Been crying thinking of random things.

Want fancy wedding. Imagine getting married a second time and still having done nothing that I want to…

I’m ok with it. But sometimes I wish I could have fun and enjoy. Be dressed up for a few days. Have people obsessing over me. Being the centre of attention. Celebrating. Dancing. Music…

But it comes at a huge cost. Not just financially. Emotionally. Ethically. Even the realisation that even during these functions, noone really cares about you. They simply come to enjoy.

I don’t know what I’m talking about. Guess I just want to dress up.

Mom has been helping the dad, of a 6 month old baby who needs an emergency surgery, to collect money. Via her friends, milaap, everything. She arranged a few lakhs. They needed 20 I think. It’s worked out anyway.
Another ex colleague of hers is suffering from anxiety. It sucks. I know… And she is talking about how I used to have panic attacks and how I’ve overcome it to just being anxiety.
Dad reached out to understand BPD, how is it different from bipolar, how I manage both, etc. I thought he wanted to know. Turns out his friend’s husband has. So he finally just asked if he can connect that friend to me

Everything is always about everyone else. Activist assholes.

They have no time or energy or mind space or interest when it comes to me.

After I told them about my sexual abuse since 6, they’ve informed every family they know about how to be careful about their daughters, what happened to me, etc.

EXCEPT taking the effort to be there for me.

And somehow I’m the one who eats medicines and gets therapy!!!
How does this make any sense!

Alone

And today is the day I realised I have noone.

A family that doesn’t care.

Thinks that my bipolar is more of an inconvenience and an excuse for them to get sympathy from others.

Thinks that my ex R is better since they have to do nothing. My current guy might not be capable enough to support me when needed, then what?

Thinks that I’m the way I am coz I’ve never had to really be down in the dumps and fend for myself. Desperate enough to snap out and get my act in place.

Thinks that my sexual abuse since childhood by family, by the person I trusted the most, the physical abuse in my relationships, the abortion and death of my pet and my best friend all on the same day… Are all things everyone goes through. Just that noone makes a big deal of it.

Thinks that bipolar, BPD, DID and anxiety are just terms. Everyone feels all these things.

And… A partner who wants to be there for me, or so I think, but isn’t capable. 😦

I have noone. I have R. Always, hopefully.

A fresh start

Shaved off my hair. Was timed to match my surgery but was done for a zillion reasons other than the surgery. Want to get rid of everything I possibly can from my past. Want a fresh start this coming year.

Want to start without the inhibitions, doubts, questions, anything I had earlier. Try things with an open mind. Things can’t get worse than this year’s been, right?

The fears that always held me back… Here’s to breaking them.

Conventional. Unconventional. Married. Divorced. Tall. Short. Slim. Fat. Pretty. Smart. Stupid. Ugly. Bipolar. Girl. Indian. Dark. Fair. Educated. Rich. Poor. Whore. Slut. Rebel… Here’s to a tagless, happier, unbranded 2018!!

Venomous journey

A little to the left he leaned.

My rickshaw driver.

Trying hard to see ahead of the car blocking his view

No use.

Turning his handle bar all the way to the left, he inched forward.

As did the car in front.

And the one in front and the one in front

So my smart Alec driver moved all the way to the right

As did the car in front

And the one in front and the one in front

And all the vehicles swayed left and right as they inched forward

Crawling towards their common goal

Like a slithering snake through wet grass

Rythmic though the movements were

Can’t help but wonder, where is the poison sac?

How much is too much

Today in conversation, my mom said that January was actually not too much. For a normal person or a bipolar person on meds and therapy, January would have been bad but not devastating.

Is that true?

I had a 1 month abortion. Lost both my kittens. Lost my best friend to a freak accident after having lived with her for 3 months till Jan 1st. And lost my favourite uncle just a month prior to that.

Am I really just making a big deal out of nothing? How much is too much?