Hey, it’s been a while.

And it’s taken me a lot.

I knew this wouldn’t be easy, but I kind of feel like it should be.

I promised myself a lot of things for the past 4 months, but it seems like I’ve failed at keeping almost all of them.

I promised myself I’d be a new person, that I’d use the opportunity of moving halfway across the world to start over. Turn a new leaf. Be a different person – a better person. Well, I definitely am a different person, but better? I can’t be sure.

I promised myself I’d sort my priorities out. That I’d do everything I can to do things right. And do things well. Be it academic or otherwise. But why am I not bothered anymore? Why don’t I care?

What does it mean when you don’t recognize who you are anymore? When you can recognize yourself in the mirror, and in pictures, but that’s just about it? I find myself asking who I am every single day – who is this anxious wreck that walks around in my room, wears my clothes, and uses my things? Who is this ‘person’ who drinks herself to a stupor every weekend just because she can’t handle reality? Who is this person who can’t be bothered about what she’s saying, what she’s doing? Who is this person who is constantly lying to me, saying that she’s fine and knows what she’s doing?

I’ve made friends, lost friends, left friends behind, been a bitch to some, lied to some others, flaked on a couple. And while I’m thankful that some don’t see through me, I wish they did. Because maybe then they’d see something I don’t. Maybe then they’d tell me what I don’t know. Maybe then they’d make me listen, look, and understand things that I don’t. Know what I mean?

Depression and anxiety is a real thing – don’t try to tell me it’s all in my head. And while I feel like I’ve dealt with the former pretty well, the latter just seems to consume me. I sit in my bed, watching old episodes of Grey’s Anatomy, or trying to work, and all of a sudden there’s this huge pit in my stomach that just doesn’t seem to go away. It just keeps growing bigger and bigger and bigger until I can’t breathe anymore. So, I try. I try to make it go away. I try to make it go away by talking to a friend, or going on a walk, or playing some ‘happy’ music. I try hard. But all it does is nothing. My friends tell me to “hang in there”, and that “this will go away soon”. But how long do I need to wait before this feeling stops eating me whole? How far away is “soon”? Why can’t I just be normal like other people? Why can’t I function without having to think about what I’m doing or saying a thousand times? Why can’t I have a conversation with that random person at the café or bar without shaking or feeling like I’m going to throw up? Why am I incapable of love? Why can’t I find someone who loves me? Why do I sound so whiny and pathetic?

Each night I lay my head down and try to breathe and push away these thoughts, they come flooding right back. Like a dam bursting at its seams, I am going to break soon. And I am scared. I am terrified, because I feel like I’m alone. Some of you may say I’m not, and I love you for saying it. But that’s just putting a band aid on a bullet wound.

How do I get myself to be okay? What is it to be ‘okay’ in the first place? I fool myself into thinking I’m happy – but I know that’s just the alcohol. Friends ask me why I drink so much, what do I get out of it? I’m only killing myself slowly. But what you don’t understand is that’s the only time I am truly happy. Because I can’t feel anything. Ironic isn’t it – when I say I’m happy but can’t feel anything? I’m trying to make sense out of it too.

I promised myself I’d be a lot more motivated. I promised myself I’d write more. I promised myself I’d use this opportunity to make my family and friends proud – and to make myself proud. But honestly, I don’t think I know what I’m doing. How do I know what I’m doing if I don’t know who I am in the first place?

Remember what I said in the beginning? That I knew this wasn’t going to be easy? I take that back. Writing this was easy, because it’s the first time in a long time I’ve been honest. To me, and to you. What’s going to be hard is putting this out there. Knowing that now, you know exactly what I’m going through. Was this worth it? I don’t know. Maybe.

This isn’t a cry for help. This isn’t meant for you to pity me. I don’t need pity. I need empathy. I need people to understand. I need myself to understand. And if it’s going to take more of these, then so be it.

But, now, you know.


Try Not To Cringe

Here’s an update on my life for the past few months (I know you’re dying to know):

I got new glasses. They’re purple. They make me look different. A good different I think. But I can’t be sure.

I’m applying to colleges. If I do get in, I’m going to move in 9 months. I have to write about myself for these essays, and it’s not something I’m good at. The struggle is real, people.

I’m having motivational issues. Or maybe I’m just lazy.

I’m in my final semester of college. The home stretch! I can’t wait to be done, but I also can. I’m so excited to get out of here, but I’m also terrified. I don’t know if the fear is to do with the fact that I’m leaving home to go somewhere halfway across the world, or if it’s because of Donald Trump.

As you can see, my indecisiveness hasn’t gotten any better. Yup, still the same. The one thing that has remained constant.

I’m trying to get back to writing, so I’m just going to write whatever I can, as frequently as I can. So, I apologize in advance for all the stupid posts you’re going to be reading until I find my groove again. Which, I hope for both your sake and mine, is soon.

If you’re still reading this, thank you for still reading it.

Late Night Musings

szPCEGE18pFor the past few weeks I’ve been trying to look ‘inside myself’ to figure out who I really am, and what made me become the person I am today. While doing this, I tried to think of one single moment that must have impacted me the most, but I finally came to realize that it’s so much more than that. It’s not just one moment that defines you, or that explains who you are. It’s a host of things – tons of moments, memories, experiences, and all of the people you meet. It’s things you feel, hear, touch, see, smell and taste. It’s things you know but can’t explain. It’s those little moments we fail to notice and let go of at the time, but come back to later and wish it could have been something more than just a little moment. It’s those time where you go against something your heart or your head tells you, and either hate yourself for it, or love yourself for it – the former being more likely, but hey, it counts as an experience right? It’s accepting that one fear that takes over your life and pushing it away so you can live your damn life. I feel like I’m going off on a tangent here – what I mean to say is, the person you are is made of so many different things that you cannot list out. It would probably take you years. So my point is, you can’t pick out just one moment that defines you. It’s millions of moments and everything that comes with it, and this is something that we often forget.

A lot of things have happened over this year. Just half the year has gone by, and it’s already been more messed up than I can imagine. There’s been so much to deal with, so much to accept, so much to deny, so much to let go, and just so much to compromise – you’re no stranger to it, I’m sure. I think that during these moments of weakness, when we just feel so low that we feel like there’s no coming back – or we just don’t want to come back – we tend to forget everything that’s made us happy. We tend to forget the things that make us smile, laugh, hug, kiss, and just breathe. We forget about the people around us who offer us their hearts to keep and their love to share. It’s so important to remind ourselves of these things, and more so that each and every one of us deserves these things. We deserve to be loved, to be hugged, kissed, to be laughed with. Talk to people who remind you of these things – I’m lucky to have found these people, who tell me that I’m beautiful, funny, and worthy of love. Find your people. And if you don’t, that’s okay, because I will be your person. I will tell you that you are beautiful, funny, kind, warm, and you deserve all the love and luck in the world.

No matter how down in the dumps you are, know that there is a reason for you to be happy, and that there is a reason for you to believe – though there may be negativity around you, know that it can be repelled and replaced by that positive light you know you have within you. Radiate. Shine. Be the beautiful human being you are. Don’t forget where you’re from, what you’re made of, and who you are. Your story is just as important as anyone else’s so don’t stop building it! Count every single tiny moment that you experience and don’t let it go. Don’t go back to it and wish it could have been something more. Embrace the moment and do the best you can with it.

With the hope that I haven’t been annoyingly preachy, I’ll end here, and just leave you with this – you never know what’s going to happen next, so do the best you can now.



He’s Around Somewhere.

Screen Shot 2016-04-16 at 12.25.47 PMI just lost one of the most important men in my life last week. Strong, independent, supportive, the kind of person my grandfather was, is the kind of person I aspire to be.

When I got the call saying he was no more, I was shocked. I didn’t know what to say, or what to feel. Sure, he was in the hospital for a long time, but I was so convinced that he was getting better, that he would come back home soon, and that he was going to be okay, so I was not prepared for it. But then again, is there anything such as preparing for something like this? Can you really anticipate it, or decide how you feel when it happens and come to terms with it just like that?

I was pretty young when my paternal grandfather and aunt passed. So I didn’t really have to deal with it then, because I didn’t understand much of what was happening, other than that I won’t be seeing them again. Of course it kills me now, knowing that I won’t be able to share some of the most important moments of my life with them, and that I didn’t get more time with them. But basically, grieving over a loved one is something new to me, it’s something I’m not sure how to do just as yet. And to be honest, I don’t think I’m ready to. How am I ever supposed to be ready? How am I ever supposed to let go?

I’ve helped people through grief when they’ve lost their loved ones. It’s so different looking at it from the outside and telling them that they’ll be okay and everything will sort itself out blah blah blah. You don’t really see the unfairness of it all, the anger, denial, the endless questions and what-ifs. I hate that he had to suffer so much before he left us. He didn’t deserve it; it’s not fair. I rarely ever pray; I am not a person who believes that God can fix everything. But I prayed. I prayed for him. I prayed for him to get better. But nothing changed, and I’m angry about it. I keep thinking about if there was more I could’ve said or done to make things better, I keep conjuring scenarios in my head that could have resulted in things going differently, and asking what if this happened, what if he did this, what if the doctor did that, what if we took him somewhere else instead of here, what would have happened? Would he have gotten better or would it be the same? Is he really in ‘a better place’? I didn’t want to feel after I got home, because if I feel, then I hurt. If I hurt, I would break. And it hurt so bad. I wanted to be numb, and not be able to feel a thing so that I wouldn’t hurt. I promised myself I wouldn’t break, that I wouldn’t feel, and I tried my best until I couldn’t anymore and everything just caved.

It’s hard to accept that I won’t be seeing him anymore. I won’t be able to tell him about all the work I’m going to do, I won’t be able to tell him that I got into university, that I got a job, that I’m getting married, and it sucks. While he may still be around in spirit, it’s hard not having him around physically. I won’t be able to hear him tell me his signature goodbye phrase, “all the best”. There are so, so many memories I have of him, and if I list them out now, it’s going to take me days. Whether it was taking my brother and me to the park, giving me a haircut, playing board games, and going for evening walks, they’re all memories that will never fade away. I’m glad I got to spend the amount of time I had with him, and I would do it the same way all over again if I had the chance. He taught me so many things that I will carry on forever, and it sucks that he’s not here to teach me more. But I’m not going to cry or mope around, because I don’t think that’s something he would want me to do. I have to take charge of my own life, and live life on my terms like he did on his, and make him proud by doing the best I can.

All the best, Ajja! See you around.



Getting Lost.

Another post where I’m ranting. So it may seem pretty disconnected. Sorry. Or not. I don’t know. 

I’m lost. I literally don’t know where I’m goingWAI_ss1, and what I’m doing with my life right now. Everyone around me seems to have their shit together…hell, even my younger brother knows what he wants to do after he graduates high school. He knows what university he wants to go to, and what he wants to do as a career. Even though it may be a vague idea, the idea is still there. He knows what to work towards. And then there’s me. I’m still waiting for that one day I have a sort of epiphany where I wake up and say “Yes! I’ve finally figured out what I want to do for the rest of my life!” But it doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen anytime soon. And there’s so much pressure to figure out the right thing to do, because I’ve already made enough mistakes, I can’t afford to make more. How do I even start? Where do I look?!

I hate that I feel so helpless, when I’m actually really not. I am lost in my classes. I know what’s happening, but I also don’t, if that makes any sense. I hate that I can’t understand things that are being said straight to my face sometimes. I hate that I can’t understand something all of my friends can, and I hate that I feel ashamed to ask because it’ll just reiterate the fact that I can’t comprehend simple things. And what I hate the most is that I know I’m better than this, so why am I not doing something about it? I know I can be smart if I want to be. I’m a good student, really. But why is it all going to the drain now? I get that college is stressful, and that people’s expectations from you turn up 10 times higher. I guess that’s what bothers me the most; the fact that the expectations are so high, and I’m not able to meet them, while I see so many people around me who can.

I know I write about how you shouldn’t hate yourself or beat yourself up and yadda yadda yadda, but I’m in a really negative space right now. It’s like I’m running around headless. I can’t see where I’m going; I can’t see what I’m doing. And it kills me because I feel so inadequate because of it. I feel like I’m not enough. I feel like I’m not worth all the effort that’s being put into shaping me to be a successful person (whatever ‘successful’ means). And it’s so incredibly difficult to talk about!

Now that I’ve identified the problem, to some extent, you’d think I’d have some idea as to how to solve it, right? Hahahaha, big joke. I have absolutely no clue. Seriously though, I have no idea how to solve this and get out of this rut I’m in. They say that losing yourself is the best thing that could happen to you because then you find who you truly are. Earlier I thought I had finally found myself. I thought I had this all figured out, and I thought that the tough times were past me now, at least for a while. How much longer am I supposed to hold on? I’m grabbing at tiny, thin threads of a rope that’s worn out, that once used to tether me to the world I lived in. And I don’t know for how long these tiny threads are going to keep me connected. I have dreams, but I don’t know what they are. I have dreams, but I can’t see myself in them. I want to dream, but I’m so afraid.

Thinking Out Loud

Screen shot 2015-11-17 at 11.23.47 PM

For a while now I’ve been having this sick feeling in my stomach because I haven’t been able to do what I love doing: I haven’t been able to write a single blog post worthy of being published for a long, long time. Why? I honestly still have to figure that out. But until I do, I thought that the best way to probably get this nagging sensation out of my head is to actually just write about it. Without thinking about it. So here I go, this is just me thinking out loud, and the next couple of posts might be the same thing (apologies in advance).

When I started this blog, I told myself that this is going to help me in more ways than I will realize, and it’s been true so far. Writing about things I see, I feel, and people around me have made me realize so many different things about myself and the way the world works (as far-fetched as it sounds). But then a couple months ago I took a break because I had too much going on, academics-wise, and I needed a break from blogging to concentrate on that. And I found that when I tried writing again after the break, I just couldn’t. I just stared at the screen, an empty Word document, devoid of words themselves. Blank. Plain white. My fingers weren’t moving, my brain wasn’t working, and my heart wasn’t in it. Anything I wrote, if I wrote anything at all, was utter crap and was immediately erased. It was extremely disturbing, initially. Then I sort of dismissed it as something like writer’s block, or maybe just a phase that would end soon. But it’s been 4 months and now it’s really starting to scare me. I get that a break is good, but this long a break? I think that’s counter-productive. It’s not doing anything for me. All that I feel right now is anxiety. There are knots in my stomach every time I have a free moment where I’m not thinking about something I need to do. I don’t know where my head is, half the time. I’m always confused, I’m always missing something, I’m always forgetting things, I’m never giving anything my full attention. These knots in my stomach make me so confused because I don’t know what to do to make them go away and they’re just always there, attacking me by surprise! I feel like I’m backed up against a wall, with nowhere to go. I can’t give up on this blog. I can’t give up on this writing. I’m feeling all these things but I have no way to get them out. I don’t talk about them, I’m not able to write about them, I don’t sing about them…where should all these feelings go and what do I do with them? Why do I feel like quitting is the only way out of this?

It’s not that I’m ashamed of imperfection. I mean, if you know me, if you’ve seen me, you’d know that imperfection is all I am. This imperfection is an integral part of how I identify myself, and not necessarily in a bad way. I think it’s okay to not feel so bad about it because seriously, who’s perfect (except maybe those gorgeous VS angels)? So imperfection and flaws are something that I’m not ashamed of in the least. So what in the world is bothering me? Why can I not write? Why do I feel like I can’t do anything about it? Why do I feel like I’m never going to get out of this rut? Why do I feel like I’m sinking in further and further in this quicksand pool of anxiety? Why can’t I ever find the answers I need?



What is motivation? How, and when is someone really motivated? What if we’re not motivated enough? What if we’re not motivated at all? Is there such a thing, even?

Motivation is defined as the general desire or willingness to do something. Some people know what they are interested in, and that makes it easier because they know what direction to go in, and they are motivated to fulfill those dreams, or wants. But for those who don’t know, like me, things are automatically 20 times worse. The confusion really gets to you. And when it’s time for you to choose, it gets far too overwhelming. It’s hard to see how to move forward, and which direction to move in.

So right now, I’m just going to put it out there: I’ve been struggling with some motivational issues lately. It’s not like I’m not interested in what’s going on around me. It’s not that I don’t care about myself or my body. It’s not that I don’t care about the fact that I don’t know a lot of things, though they are things I essentially need to know about. It’s just that I’m not motivated to do something about it. But what does that even mean? Does that make any sense? I know there are certain things I should be doing, be it exercise, studying, reading, or anything else constructive. But I don’t do it. Why? My family and I mistook it for laziness. I didn’t exercise because I was lazy (defeats the whole thought, right?). I didn’t study because I was lazy. I didn’t go out or do chores because I was lazy. I felt dejected, upset, and at a loss because I hated myself for not doing these things, even though I knew they needed to be done. Till one day I was talking to a friend about it, and turns out, she was feeling the exact same way. And after that conversation and a couple thereafter with some other people, I learned the difference between laziness and not being motivated.

Though the two may be interconnected, the difference is a lot more than you expect. According to me, being lazy to do something means that you don’t really want to do it. Not being motivated, on the other hand, is when you want to do something, but you may not know how, and as a result, you don’t know how to start, where to go, what to do, and you simply lack that push inside of you to go and do what’s necessary. And there was my problem. I paid attention in class. Well, sort of. I did my homework, whenever I had any. I made my projects and presentations. However, I did not take it all very seriously, to be honest. And why? I was not motivated. Now sure, this may sound like an excuse to bad performance in class. But it is a real problem that needs a real solution.

So I spent a couple of days feeling down and literally pitying myself. I yelled at myself because I wasn’t doing anything about my bad (well, not exactly bad, but not a great performance), or non-existent performance in class the past couple of weeks. For some time, I thought it was to do with the environment I was in. But that was completely wrong, because the environment I study in is so full of talent, enrichment and nurturing. Everyone has his or her beliefs and way of thinking, and I’m supposed to have my own too. The people surrounding me are so supportive; I’ve probably been too blind to see it. After accepting that it’s not the environment that’s at fault, I moved on to the notion that I was the problem. I started questioning myself as to why I was feeling the way I was, and what I could do to stop it. Over the years, I have worked on insecurity and consciousness issues, and I’m pretty happy with where I am now, I’m at a good level. So after questioning, I began to see myself in a different light than the others. I immediately began to feel inferior. I thought I was the stupidest person alive, and didn’t know anything at all. For me to come down in terms of security and personal consciousness, it meant I was taking a step backwards, and that’s the worst possible thing to do.

After a while, I decided that there was no point in beating myself up about it, and that I wouldn’t really get anywhere if I didn’t do anything about it. So I spoke to my family. And they were amazingly supportive, and instantly ready to help. I also turned to my peers, and learned a couple of things here and there. Then I turned to self-help. I read a couple of articles, wrote down a quote or two that I repeated every morning in the hopes that there will be some miracle each day. The one common thing I found everywhere is that if you don’t truly believe in something, it will never happen. So I applied it to my situation. Keep in mind that at this point in time, I had lost all faith and hope in myself, and was just resigned to the fact that I simply wasn’t good enough. So if I didn’t believe that I was going to be okay, and that I am actually worth something, how was I going to get better? Believe, believe, and believe. So I did. I believed that I am special, that I am not stupid, that I am smart, that I am beautiful, that I am a good person, that I can do whatever I want to do, and that I am worth it. I willed myself to put in thrice the effort I was putting into things earlier. I willed myself to fix relationships, no matter how hard it was going to be. I willed myself to be a better person, though I don’t really know what a good person is, I’m getting there. I willed myself to attend classes regularly. I willed myself to pay more attention and try to engage more. I willed myself to learn not only from my teachers and my parents, but also from my friends and the littlest things around me, be it materialistic or just through experiences. I willed myself to believe that I was going to be okay, after all. Obviously these are all works in progress. But my point is, that there is such a thing as not being motivated, and it’s not something you can dismiss. It’s something that you need to work on. It’s something that you need to talk about. It’s something that you do need help and encouragement for.

Being unmotivated is not something shameful. It’s okay and it’s something that every single person goes through at some point of time. The most important thing is to get through it, and getting through it the right way. Don’t be afraid to ask for help, nobody’s judging you for it. And if they are, use that judgment constructively and allow it to push you further. Be open to risks, and challenges. You aren’t stupid, you are smart. You aren’t always wrong, your opinions and thoughts matter. You are worth every second of effort that is put into making you the person you are today, and don’t think otherwise even for a second.