The time(s) I went to therapy

When people hear therapy, they immediately jump to that conclusion wherein there is a sofa, a chair, a clipboard, and a “and how does that make you feel?” My experience couldn’t be more different. For one, I never thought that I’d ever go to a psychologist. I live in India for godsakes, and mental unwellbeing of any form is just not allowed. You’re perceived as crazy, attention seeking, and FOR SHAME HOW COULD YOU. God.

Point being, even saying that you’ve been to a therapist gets you these looks. These “how could you shame your family like this?” looks. So when I told my parents I hadn’t really felt happy in three years, they finally felt resigned enough to take me to therapy.

So we go to the hospital, wait for ages and finally go in and immediately my parents are sent out. Before I say any more I must mention that my therapist really has one of the kindest faces I’ve ever seen in my life and one of the sweetest smiles. She has this aura of calmness around her that you can’t help but let permeate even your own troubled mind. She truly picked the right profession. Now please forgive me for what I’m about to say because despite her job requiring no assumptions or judgement, that is exactly what she did. I dislike saying anything remotely bad about her but she did make her assumptions even after I told her the exact opposite of what she wrote down in my ‘mental assessment chart’. It seemed like she knew what she was going to say about me before I even said anything. Which resulted in a lot of things being read by my parents that had absolutely nothing to do with me and then all understanding was lost because I couldn’t tell them that what was wrong with me wasn’t what she thought. So now they have this ‘understanding’ of me which really isn’t me but what can I do about it now?

I attended therapy for quite some time and each time we would talk, she’d teach me some relaxation therapy and she’d ask me how my diary was coming along. I used to write a lot back then, everyday actually, but I don’t anymore. I use different mediums now. I stopped attending therapy a long time ago when I realised that with her assumption of what was wrong with me, it really wasnt helping very much anyway. I thought it was but on reflection, most of the work came from me.

I’m just trying to say that yes, everyone makes assumptions. And sometimes therapists don’t. But too many people make assumptions about sad almost adults and I don’t like that. And they’re always the same assumptions as if we’re all the same person. Not all of us are Juliet’s who drink fake poison and then stab ourselves when we realise we forgot to share our terrible plan with our boyfriend/husband who promptly decided death was the way to go cause he’d never find love again EVEN THOUGH HE WAS TOTALLY IN LOVE WITH ROSALINE (or whatever her name is) LIKE FIVE SECONDS BEFORE HE SAW JULIET. I went off track. Sorry, I just kind of hate Romeo and Juliet.

Point! People will judge, people will try to invalidate your feelings and people will get you down. But sometimes they have a very nice smile and a calm demeanor so you forgive them.

Go listen to Give Me Therapy by All Time Low. Yes, I had an ATL phase and the only reason I’m telling you to listen to it is because it has the word therapy in it.

The time I decided to dance

I’ve always been the most uncoordinated person I knew. Two left feet and bad hand eye coordination often leave a person slightly less graceful than most. It was hard enough walking for me, dancing was absolutely out of the question. I always thought I looked like a dying squid when I danced anyway. But people go to parties and people dance at parties and when people dance at parties they want other people to dance with them. And every time people tried to make me dance, I’d laugh and refuse, they’d insist, I’d politely refuse yet again, and they would insist yet again. And then I would refuse more strongly and for some reason this would amuse them and they would physically try to drag me to dance. And then I would push them away and they’d call me a spoilsport and I would leave

–my mood is getting ruined again, hang on-

–actually it has been days but I’m finally finishing it-

Anyway, I used to get so sad and angry when people tried to make me dance. I didn’t realise that they didn’t understand how big a deal it was to me. To them, it was just an expression of how happy they were. But to me, it was an open door to let in judgement and pointing fingers and laughter. And I couldn’t have that. So we’d always be at a standstill, my friends and I.

Until i saw this one kpop video and I just thought the dance was the coolest thing ever. So I watched tutorials and tried to learn it. And when I did it in front of the mirror, I didn’t look terrible at all. I didn’t have the grace and movement of a good dancer, but no, I did not look like a dying squid. So I learnt more and danced more and eventually I was confident enough to do it with a friend in front of other friends. And it made me feel good and happy. And I don’t regret it for a second. I guess you’ve just got to embrace yourself. I mean, you’re you. That’s pretty much it. What else can you do, right? And hey, I’m actually not that bad with the girl group dances ^_^

So don’t worry. Even if you don’t feel like it now, maybe you will in the future. If you want to dance, just go for it. I mean, I can’t freestyle dance but I think I can learn steps and I think I’m getting better with practice. So when your friends are getting annoyed with you, be patient. They don’t understand what it’s like to be in your head. They just want to see you laugh. Take your time.

Song for today is ‘Time Spent Walking Through Memories’ – Nell

The time I decided I was bisexual

I watched Shane Dawson’s coming out video today and while I am not a fan, I have to say I liked it and it did make me feel a lot better because I could identify. I come from India where there is even more convention than tradition, and there is a lot of tradition. Which means that not much out of the ordinary is accepted here. Different sexualities being one of them. When I was about 15, I realised that I had started looking at women the same way every other woman seemed to look at men. Bear in mind that my parents shielded me so much from the world that I didn’t even know what being gay was until I was 13 or so. My friends were to blame for this as well, I suppose. They always made me close my eyes when anything remotely promiscuous showed up on TV. I suppose I just looked too innocent. So knowing that, you can understand why I was so confused, right? Gay was a bad thing surely. Was being half gay a thing? Was it a bad thing? And why did no one talk about it? Therein began the research. And I found out so much about different sexualities and an entire gender spectrum that existed, and yet, no one seemed to talk about it. It seemed so bizarre to me that all this existed and still was ignored by the general crowd.

So, there I was. Confused because well, it was confusing. Upset because I didn’t know why it was happening. And lonely, because I didn’t think anyone else understood. One fateful night I was talking to a really good friend of mine and I was just so tired of crying and trying to figure me out so I just told him. Well, I told him something was wrong and he somehow guessed. Maybe he was more perceptive than I thought or maybe I was just more transparent. But God it helped me so much because one of the first things he said was “me too.” And the relief that flooded through me was palpable because all of a sudden I wasn’t alone anymore. So I talked to him every night, and he talked to me. We told each other everything we didn’t dare to tell anyone else because the world could be cruel and we were safe with each other. We’re not as close as we used to be but I’ll always consider him one of my best friends. But I’ve gone on a tangent. Anyway..

After talking to him, my life just became better. I found solace in another friend who proudly exclaimed that she was bisexual but preferred women more and she was just so loudly unapologetic about it. It was amazing. And now, I can just say that I don’t give a shit about my sexuality. I am who I am, and no one can change that, least of all me. I’m done crying about trying to figure out who I am. I’m just going to be me and be completely, wholeheartedly okay with that.

Ah yes, song for today is Disenchanted by My Chemical Romance

The time I started crying

I remember exactly when I started to feel this way. Well, not the date or time. But with my horrible memory, even remembering this much is commendable. So imagine you’re standing at the very top of the Eiffel Tower. The city of Paris unfolded in front of you. Every building, every road, every turn. Every monument, every river. You can see everything. The wind so strong it sounds like it’s shouting in your ears, reminding you of where you are. And your hair is everywhere. The world at your feet. And you’re crying because you think you’re ugly. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? Years and years of history and all little Presh can think about is her chubbiness and dark skin, matted hair and glasses. And how everyone around her is beautiful and how she pales in comparison. How everyone else is a star and she is the night sky. And how for the first time, standing at the edge of such a height gave her something scarier than vertigo.

Of course I was silly and a teenager and hormonal. But I was also influenced by media and society telling me that my skin was not to be desired, my big lips unbecoming on my face and just too much hair everywhere. Everything was wrong. So I cried and I cried. And in some time my tears became symbols for other things. On the bright side, I no longer think I’m ugly. But unfortunately, there are so many other things to cry about. But I do believe everything will pass. So if you’re stuck like I am, just hold on to some faith. It might just lead you somewhere.

Song for today is The Scientist – Coldplay

The time I called my future Japanese teacher

Hey Internets. I suffer from social anxiety and the like. So calling anybody on the phone is horrible for me. As is talking to people. Or looking at people. Or people. But I digress.

After I dropped out of college (first one and more on that later), I decided to do something productive with my time and Japanese seemed to make sense. I’ve always had a fascination with Japan, I got into their music a long time ago, and yeah sure I wanted to watch anime without subtitles. My parents thought it would be a good idea too so

– my mood just got extremely ruined but I am trying to restore it-

So. Japanese. My sister met someone during her event management programs who spoke 16 languages. 16! And she agreed to teach me. But I had to call her first. By now I suppose you can understand why I was so apprehensive. Therefore I wandered around my room for half an hour before even dialing the number. And the first time she didn’t pick up and such relief flooded through my body. Now I could just text her maybe. But I made the grand mistake of telling my sister and she just looked at me weirdly and told me to call her again. Cue fear and apprehensiveness. So I spent yet another 15 minutes wandering around my room. But this time she picked up. And everything was shaking. Or maybe it was just me. I let out a feeble ‘hello?’ and I got the most kind, excited ‘hello!’ back. And everything dissipated just like that. Maybe it was the obvious smile I could hear in her voice or the kindness in the way she spoke, but I found myself getting through the rest of the call with ease. It was the first time something like that had ever happened. And I didn’t stop smiling for a good two hours after.

I guess there are a few things I’m trying to say. Things might seem terrifying sometimes but you can probably get through it. Especially when there may be a kind person to get you through it. Be proud of the small accomplishments. They mean more than others know. Take pride in yourself. Fear isn’t a reason to not do something. Do it anyway. Somehow. You can do it! I’m so happy I started these classes because 1. Learning a new language is an incredible new venture. 2. My teacher is the kindest, sweetest, absolute cutest person in the world who never fails to make me smile. I’d like to be like that someday. I’d like to have the kind of energy that makes everyone around me happy. Unfortunately I am quite a sad person but I am working on all these things.

Have a nice day/night! <3~~

Oh I forgot to recommend a song! I’m feeling like Under The Daylight Moon by Fromm

Hey Internet

Finally decided it was time to start up a blog again. Unforeseen and truly unenjoyable circumstances led to me erasing every trace of my old blog from the internet. Or at least, as much as I could. There isn’t anything specific I’d like to talk about right now cause I’m sleepy and I have accursed college tomorrow. I’m doing English Literature if you wanted to know. I was doing Biotechnology but we’ll get to that later. All in good time.

(Also! NOt so much kpop trash anymore! The phase is over! Huzzah!!)