What kind of a crazy person has three blogs? My thoughts have three levels of visibility. To be honest, I don’t know what brand of thoughts goes into what blogs. Between publicity, publicity + anonymity and outright anonymity, I suppose my three blogs with varying levels of visibility, indicates a sense of insecurity around my thoughts and who I am. Yet, in the interest of personal growth, I have to venture into the uncomfortable given the nature of the tough decisions I foresee myself taking in the next few months.
You know, I think to some extent I have figured out a few things about my present state of health, mental and physical. Be it my backpain or the sense of low I have endured mentally, somewhere I think I deserve it. In another instance, I was walking back home and saw a woman with two kids sitting outside of the local police station crying. Against all wisdom, I decided to wait and watch. As the police started shouting at her and she started dragging herself away, I felt compelled to go in. I finally did intervene, found her a shelter home and gave her numbers of social workers who could help her.
Yet when another friend whose help I enrolled tried to tell me what a good thing I did, I was eager to prevent her from doing so. When she persisted and said it, I felt terrible.
Another girl that I met recently. I was surprised at how nice I was to her. It was almost natural. She was still dealing with the aftermath of being dumped and I spoke to her for hours making her feel better. Yet the moment she wanted to reciprocate and reach out to me during the recent phases of depression, I was terribly angry at her. I am eager to avoid her now simply because of all the love and affection she feels for me and sends my way.
Part of this self loathing might have come from childhood experiences where traits, inseparable from my identity, were talked of as tiresome and requiring psychiatric intervention. Stuff like my sensitivity and righteous indignation were constantly treated like a pain in the backside and everyone had me convinced that I sucked the way I was and I had to change. While my job salvaged the situation to some extent, I still feel deficient as a human being.
I think the break in terms of a master’s degree in a good university will be good because in that kind of an atmosphere, my individuality will be respected. The best thing about university education in the US, I feel, is that it celebrates diversity. It doesn’t coerce conformity, but rather encourages dissent. Better still, I would at least find a damn apartment without landlords insisting that I should be married! Living here can be exhausting man