Losing the Plot Mate!

You know that feeling, when you are there and you aren’t really out there? When one moment, one very deceptive little moment makes you feel wanted. But when the deception wears off, you come to know where you really stand. When you get excited that you finally found your reason for being alive and then, in a flash, just like that, that reason ceases to exist. When your own feet don’t want to carry you further, your shoes bite your toes. When everything good that you got going in some fragment of your life goes up in a cloud like POOF!!! The emptiness inside, eating away your soul. The struggle, that’s very real. When tears flow not because you are weak, but because the pain is like a giant, devouring you whole. How does it feel to be the outsider in your own life?! Does any other hurt compare to that one?!

I’ve spent my whole life, being a stranger in my own life. Losing people I love and was afraid to lose. Getting hurt as a punishment for being nice ( no I don’t mean NICE, nice. I meant refusing to be mean even to those who deserve it). One by one, people go away. Not in death but in life. ‘Cause death would mean, a valid reason. That there was some hope somewhere.  But I guess, some people are cursed this way. Doomed! Left to dwell alone. To deal with the extreme highs and lows on their own. I think either I’m cursed that way or I’m developing a bipolar disorder.

Diary Entry: That Dark Place

Dear diary,

I have started sucking pretty badly in singing. I was ashamed to hear my own recording today when I tried. I cant blame the karaoke app. Or can I?!

Anyway, I’m dwelling in my dark place where I have a lot of stuff going on inside my head but too little going outside it. I lie in bed all day, wasting precious time and doing absolutely nothing. I need an escape from Lahore-it’s very essential these days. I don’t want to go home because of all the marriage talk mum tries to do with me every single time I go back. I mean, how hard is it to understand that I don’t want to get married to engineers employed somewhere in the middle east? Or that I don’t want to get married, period!

Sometimes, when I’m in a very perceptive mood, one thought crosses my mind. What if, my history of always falling for the wrong people is the reason of my aversion? Would I ever be able to move on with my life? Or would I keep looking towards those friends of mine who actually got married and their lives after marriage didn’t turn “Oh-so-well”? And then there’s one very stupidly disturbing thought-I don’t want to grow up!

I’m serious! I don’t. And in my mind, marriage brings responsibilities and it means that now you have to be a grown up and handle kids of your own. Don’t get me wrong, I love babies and would love to have one or two of my own some day but for now, I wish to accomplish something in life. I want to be an independent female before I tie the knot.

Oh, and not to forget, I need to be able to like some person enough to be able to persuade my stupid mind to actually want to marry him. And believe me, I would raise all hell if I have to, just to get to know the person who gets to marry me-if he gets to marry me.

Anyway, marriage isn’t the real reason of my writing today. I’ve hit a writer’s block and I’ve stopped updating my novel. There are just too many scenarios bugging me, keeping me restless and pinching me but whenever I try to pen them down, or in this case, type, I hit a blockage. I don’t know how long it would last and why I keep thinking of dark stuff. I need to cool off. Need a distraction. Something to drag me back to my original track. Perhaps a trip to Islamabad….. (Yeah, I wish! But mum never permits )

My desperation for a change of scenario has resulted in my withdrawal from people and frustration. I want to bite people’s heads off when they try to talk to me. I want to yell at them for no reason and I’m just hating them for not understanding. My palpitations are back but even after ma’am suggested me to go see a doctor, I told her I don’t want to. I have started acting out with the people I love and after doing that, I feel guilty. So this self-destruction mode isn’t helping me at ALL!

I’m hoping that writing about it now, would lessen the intensity of insanity I’m experiencing these day because I don’t know what else to do.

 

P.S: And no, I still don’t wanna go to the doctor

Diary Entry: Blunders

Dear Diary,

Never again would I ever be the moderator of another official program in my life.

*huff!!!*

I mean, seriously, the pressure, the blunders, the anxiety…….. That’s simply too much!

In case you are wondering what happened, well, I was asked to be the moderator for a workshop organized by the faculty of Social Sciences in our university today, because our “usual” moderator had to go out of station. The anxiety started building up yesterday evening when I thought about actually doing the deed.  But I spent the whole time recording a voice-over for a video that my little cousin was making for a competition in her college. I had the basic structure and the event schedule provided to me yesterday but my mind didn’t feel fresh enough to rehearse, by the time I finished recording. So I simply ignored the urge to practice (a decision that by the way I am glad to have made now.)

My day today, started with running towards the auditorium because I was 3 minutes late as the bus wasn’t on time. But turned out that i was 7-12 minutes early anyway. Anyway, the starting was a little jittery but I survived through most of the day by rushing to refill my water bottle again and again during the times when the speakers were lecturing and then announcing the next speaker. Half of the time was spent giving introductions and the other half of the time was spent calling out the designations and names of important people of the university, like the dean, the registrar, the acting vice chancellor. Not to mention the repeated changes in the sequence of events and my hurried scrolls on my diary to remember those changes.

But that wasn’t enough. The closing ceremony was yet an even bigger disaster, waiting to happen. As I came on stage to announce the names of the resource persons and the organizing committee members for the reception of their respective shields and certificates, a teacher and the dean kept bugging me with new names or information every second which confused me so much. I guess, some accidents are bound to happen. So there I was, publicly humiliating myself by mixing the names and designations of who should present the next shield to whom. And to top it off, I didn’t know the name of our acting vice chancellor or even the registrar (thanks to me being an antisocial moron who doesn’t give a damn to whatever is happening around her) and I might even get chastised for it later. But I’m glad, the nightmare is over!

Never again!!!

And the most disappointing part of today was that I couldn’t be attentive during the whole speaker’s session and it was related to Qualitative research- my research is a qualitative one as well. Oh, and my head of department didn’t come today so that was very discouraging as well. But I’ve told her that I hate her for not coming today, even though, we both know that’s not true!

And right now, I feel like- either drinking a big mug of tea or sleeping for years without being disturbed! *rolling my eyes* (Like that’s gonna happen -_- )

Mayn, I’m tired!

*yawns*

The Need, the Struggle, the Block!

A quote by D.W Winnicott is stuck in my mind right now. He stated, and I couldn’t agree more that “Artists are people driven by the tension between the desire to communicate and the desire to hide.” But when I try to analyze my own self through this criteria, I keep feeling that I have this need, deep inside to communicate. I didn’t use the word desire. I said “need.” Because, it sure feels like a need.

Yesterday, I had an interesting conversation with my teacher who said that I hide. I’m not very “talky, talky.” And to that I replied, I share but nobody listens. Is it not what happens all around us? Don’t you think that the need to say stuff and not being able to get it off your chest is one of the major reason that people sometimes snap?! Being a Clinical Psychology student, I have witnessed the struggle. Hell, I have struggled with this all my life and I still am struggling with the concept every day. At the end of the day, my mind keeps telling me, nobody cares and nobody listens so why bother?! And thus, a “Quiet-Me” comes into existence.

But if we stop for a minute, to listen to someone, who wishes to share something that may be very moot or pointless for us but very precious or important for the other person, then we might help in reducing the exponential increases in Psychological problems.

It takes courage for a person to reach out and voice their inner feelings. Believe me, I know the struggle! And sometimes, the person voicing those feelings doesn’t even need for you to give them a solution to their problem. They are merely in search of an attentive ear. Our Dean, today asked what could be done to reduce stress or anxiety or depression from our society. One very easy solution came into my mind. Talking less, Listening more! So why not Listen?!

And then comes the point where people don’t know how to differentiate between hearing and listening. We go out, there are multiple voices that our mind registers. Some of them we concentrate on and some of them we get so used to that we simply ignore or don’t think to be a big deal. That’s hearing. Listening on the other hand involves a little bit more effort from our brain. It requires attention and understanding or at least an attempt on understanding whatever is being said. That being said, Listen to people if they come to you for help. If you don’t, they might just block you out, never to try to be close with anyone again.

A little effort on our part can save a lot of lives!

 

Diary Entry: Instinct

Dear Diary,

I was okay, a couple of minutes ago but now I have a really bad feeling inside. All of a sudden. And I don’t even know why. It’s as if I have lost something very important or I’m about to. I want to cry on my loss but I don’t know if I have really lost something or not. Does this all make any sense? I have learned that I should trust my instinct, but what is it that it wants to tell me right now?!

 

The Monster in Shadows

Dumb name, I know! That’s why it’s a temporary one for the book I have started to write. I don’t know if I should call it a book or not. Yup, I’m still drowning in self doubt as always. But this is an internal fight. I keep doubting myself and yet I keep doing whatever stuff I doubt myself in.

Seems I’m not the only one who keeps doubting themselves. It seems to be a disease in my family. I’m not sure about my elder brother but my little brother and little sister keep doubting themselves. I know they can do the stuff they think they can’t do but they don’t know it.

My case is a little similar but a little different too. Deep down, I damn well know that there is nothing that I can’t do, that I put my mind to but doubting myself throughout the journey and self torment is kind of my thing. I hate it but I do it anyway.

I’ve been trying to think for an appropriate title for my novel but as of yet, I’ve failed miserably, hence this crappy name. I’ve updated the second chapter but it’s a short one since all my attempts at researching an area for the setting of my story have further confused me. I want my setting to be some part of England but I’ve never been outside of my own country so it’s hard to familiarize myself with the stuff of a foreign country through virtual aids only.

Another hindrance is that the story-line has been teasing, tormenting and keeping me awake at nights but I have not been able to think things through. I was just in a hurry to get things out of me as keeping them inside is a burden sometimes. The result- I’ve not thought about the details inside the plot. Which means that I will have to make up the details as I move along but move things in the direction that my plot wants me to take.

I’m not gonna back down though. I’ve started too many projects in the past and left them mid-way, but not this one. I’m going to force myself to complete this one. No matter how crappy the story goes. No matter how much of a failure it proves to be( or not).

Because, the monsters inside my head won’t rest until I have shot every single one of them.

 

Diary Entry:Memory Lane

Dear Diary,

March, 23, 2017: a day I never wish to forget. Well, the story starts from a couple of days before March 23rd. It started with a call from my aunt. She told me, finally uncle has been able to get his hands on passes for defense day parade for 2017 so I had to come to attend, as I was the one who had been pushing him to get them for past 3-4 years. Imagine my happiness! Yup, my heart jumped and leaped, well, as much as it could, within the confines of my rib cage. Anyway, I knew I just had to be there, somehow. And telling my family wasn’t an option. Mum and dad would never have permitted.

Some days later I got another call from my aunt, telling me that I have to be in Rawalpindi on March 20 because I got the invitation for the full dress rehearsal on March 21, instead of the actual parade on 23rd. The news put me off a little bit because I wanted to experience the real thing. But whatever! I’ll take whatever I get. My “agile” mind started planning. It decided to leave for Rawalpindi on 20th and to come back to Lahore on 22nd, as if nothing had happened.

The morning of 21st, I couldn’t contain myself. Went to the parade venue with my aunt’s sister in law and her kids as they had divided the 10 of us into two groups. One that would attend on 21st and the other on 23rd. I was among the ones down for 21st. I went there, and loved every little bit of the ceremony. But the most amazing thing was the air show by Pakistan Air force and Pakistan Army Aviation. It was simply mind blowing. The way the fighter planes soared high above our heads, the way they “twirled” and “teased”….. It was quite impressive! Impressed, I accepted for an “nth” time that I was still very much in love with the armed forces. And that love was increasing by the minute.

Afterwards, even on reaching home, I could hardly control my excitement. The downside of not being able to witness the actual thing on 23rd couldn’t even mar my excitement. I had to leave for Lahore the very next day. But me, being MAe, I couldn’t get myself to leave so soon. So I decided to stay for a bit-yet again. (Maybe I should stop pre-planning my departure dates from Islamabad-Rawalpindi, as I never, EVER leave the twin cities on the days I actually plan on leaving!)

On 22nd, my cousin decided that she didn’t want to go to the parade and I kept thinking, why did she have to be the one who got the pass to actual thing when I was the one dying to see it?!

But, then an idea hit my devious, devilish mind. Why not, go on her place for the day and be her for one day. After all, it won’t harm any one. So, I did. Initially, afraid that the organizers would refuse to let me in. But once I was inside, I thanked Allah!

So, I was finally there-a big YAAAYYY!!! Again ready to be impressed, and rightly so. The “Sherdils(Lion-hearts)”of Pakistan Air force didn’t disappoint me. The skies of Islamabad witnessed the “Cuban 8” maneuver, the “muscle climbs”, the “Barrel rolls,” the “Shaheen cuts,” the “High Aplha Pass” and “free falls” by different jets that filled the air with different colours. Before that day, I didn’t know these terms either. So it was a fun filled learning experience, alhamdulillah!

The sound of JF Thunder, piercing the skies and making our hearts race in unison as excitement coursed through our veins, it was a “high” I want to experience every single day! With each dangerous maneuver displayed by the crafts, the love of those courageous pilots increased ten folds in my heart. By the time things ended, my heart was beaming and my eyes smiling and I could not wipe off the silly grin that was plastered on my face. I want to treasure each and every second of that memory forever, and EVER! And those who haven’t had the chance to witness it first hand, try for the next time. You would not be disappointed. If it were up to me, I would never want it to end!

My friends have been a disappointment again but I should probably get used to them not making an effort to see me anymore, by now. I need to work on this- really hard! Anyway, I’m finally going home for a bit. I hope mum doesn’t hold a full-fledged inquisition. I hate it when I have something to hide and she unleashes her inquisitive assault, in full throttle!

Anyway, we are about to enter my home town, so I need to run!