The Misfit @himelstuff - Tumblr Blog

We need to talk about attention seekers.

We have been conditioned to think that we should get through our lives alone. We've been led to believe that seeking the attention of others is the worst social faux pas you can commit.

When I feel persecuted, I sometimes zone out. Like I’m not there. I’m transported back to some other time or some other world. Every sight is a blur, and every sound is distant. I think it’s a defense mechanism. If it is, it does seem to work. I’m aware that it makes me look weak. Like I’m unable to stick up for myself. Or like I’m (excuse the politically incorrect term) lame. And suddenly, at least in to myself, that moment of inaction and self doubt translates into a larger point.

The question is, does it have to? I probably should not ascribe that one moment

My Story. Part 1: Early life.

So I know I haven't written in a while. This week has been kinda cool. The biggest revelation has been unrelated to what I've been spending time with. Here's the big deal. I have been thinking a lot about school. I have been looking for a lot of answers. I always thought that the bullying I had to deal with in school had something to do with me. I was told repeatedly that it didn't have. I was told repeatedly that it wasn't my fault. Well, it wasn't. Not consciously at least. It was a cycle that I entered innocently. Or that I was pushed into. And like all cycles, it just got worse. My parents were unbelievably competitive. They pushed me to work hard to get into the best elementary school in town. At the age of four, I had a twelve hour work day. I sat with my mom learning hundreds of spellings, learning how to converse like a gentleman, working through hundreds of test papers. I never had the blissful age of innocence. I never had the age where you play and let your imagination wild and free. Instead, I learnt to judge myself from an early age. On my free time, my parents didn't take me to the park. They took me to the school they wanted me to go hoping that I'd find motivation from the many basketball courts or the giant football ground or the beautiful quadrangle. It is perhaps this fanaticism that leads me to rebel now. And it is ironic that I, a guy who was taught to put myself in a vulnerable place and open myself to judgement from that early age is someone who is terrified of putting himself in a vulnerable position. So anyway, I was always covered in self doubt, encouraged to entertain the possibility that I'm not good enough. I always had a terribly busy workday. There was so much pressure in me to be perfect, that I ended up far from it. There is one important thing I forgot. I forgot too make friends. Once I had gotten into the elementary school my parents wanted me to get into, (those were days before the RTE. The school was a symbol of the town's flagrant elitism) I would come to realize that I didn't know how to. But that was okay. Then it all started in third grade. It was a simple harmless prank. People would smack my bottom and run away. I'd chase them. (Hey, I was just a kid. I didn't know what invalidating the provocation meant). This led to the painful realization, that I was fat and slow. I could never catch them. I'd try and look like a doofus. And I'd be aware that I'm looking like a doofus. But there's nothing I could do. That was the first time ever that I looked at myself as a 'victim'. In hindsight, that was the first time that I looked at myself as incapable. My grades plummeted. My parents could not understand why. Why did a student who mostly got all As the year before suddenly plummet down to Cs, Ds and Fs. They thought I wasn't working hard enough. They thought I was slacking. I can't blame them. Hell, I thought I was slacking. But I didn't quite know how to fix it. I don't think I was perceptive enough. I just remember putting so much effort into trying to just get by that I didn't have any energy left to do other stuff. The Parent-teacher meetings were particularly interesting. I remember my fourth grade English teacher telling my parents, "He doesn't give a damn. Not about you. Not about himself, this school or his teachers." I wish I didn't. I wish I could bring myself to not give a damn. But I did. That school and the validation that came with it was my everything.

So my mom was here for three days. (waterworks happened when she left yesterday). And my mom and I are really stoic. I’m close to my mom and I feel like she ‘gets’ me. But not a lot of gooey affection happens there. We don’t ever tell each other that we love each other. We’re not huggers and we never drop a tear. We’re like really stereotypical South Asian mother-son duo in many ways. In other ways, not so much. Like my mother will occasionally joke “This is why you’re single” when I refuse to get that haircut or shave. And she correctly diagnosed that my recent bout of low was because my ex roommate (who I wish the best for) moved in with his girlfriend and I’m not dating anyone. She tried to be supportive when I told her that I’m into older women. And she listened throughout my theory about how humankind is inherently selfish.

Dreaming about dreams

There are these nights where i cant sleep. I stay awake and dream about being a more complete human being.

Hiding in your room isn't really a good thing

Is what I've learnt. The hard way. I really feel like it should have been simpler. For the past month, I've spent a lot of time holed up in my room. Where my actions don't have consequences. Basically living my life to the principle of 'If a tree falls in a forest and no one hears it, did it even happen.' or you know. The saying that goes to that effect. I ruined my experience by not practicing. I didn't go to therapy in fear that I'd have to deal with something. I ran away from all friendships and relationships. I ran away from even being healthy. And now, I'm trying to climb back up.

Things I’m thanking for. Part 4?

The Rain. Have you seen the rain? It’s freaking amazing!

Hang in there, man.

Yeah, there’s really nothing about this that doesn’t suck for you. But I guess part of the problem is that you’ve been eager to assign a blame where none exists. So you fell for a girl. Ah, big deal. I just want to let you know that it’s okay to feel this way. And that you’re not doing yourself any favors by letting it rot inside you. By not admitting something that you know. So you fell for a girl. Big deal. Can you just say it for one freaking second? You fell for a girl that you slept with on Christmas. The sex wasn’t good but dammit it was so warm! And you have feelings-type things for her. And she doesn’t. It’s okay. Tell yourself how much this hurts. Hug yourself a little. This is a time you need to be nurtured, not chastised. So nurture yourself. Indulge in this. Coddle yourself. You’re hurt. Acknowledge your wounds. You have wounds. You’re hurting. And it’s painful. Let them heal for a bit. And let yourself grieve for them. And slowly, move on.

Workaholic

I love working. I LOVE working. And for some time, scratch that. For a long time, that will be paramount in my life. While relationships and friendships will also be important. And while id like to build real relationships and get close to them, I don't think anything will come close. I wanna travel. And write poetry in Paris or New York. I wanna sit in roadside cafes in Belgium and eat waffles while I work. I wanna feel the sunlight on my face, my wings attached to me, and just then I wanna soar into the sky till I touch the face of God.

A New Sun Rising

The path behind you is on fire. You don't have buddies. You can't turn back. But most importantly, you're not a quitter. Let's give this another fucking shot. This time, you don't let yourself be treated this way. This time, you fight back.

The End.

There's a time to push yourself and to get better and court competence. And there's a time to know that you don't belong. And that the best thing you can do is walk away.

People Are Drugs

People are drugs. Some more potent than the other. Some more fulfilling than the other. Some more mellow. Some stronger. Each high is different. And each drug brings out a different side in you. Some people are cocaines. In that, you meet them once and you have to meet again. You always want more. You have to want more. Its very easy to get addicted to them. And once you are, as you inevitably will be, you're screwed. Now it is important to recollect here that we are talking about people. Obviously people are not literally drugs. What I mean is that they have a drug-like effect on you. It's possible to get addicted to them. And in most cases that's what happens. So is that what love is about? Is love nothing more than a physio chemical reaction wherein your brain bonds to that other person. Are you mainly only addicted to the dopamine rush that happens when you're with that person. It is worth noting here that like every addiction, being addicted to people is dangerous and potentially fatal. People don't belong to you. They are living breathing individuals and they have their own goals and dreams. They do not exist to cater to your addictions. Nor should they. A relationship where one party is addicted to the other is also often a very dishonest relationship. The nature of addiction is that you always want more of the drug. The other person's welfare does not factor into the equation. It's mostly about you. And your addiction. Your entire relationship dynamic is predicated around getting more and more of that person. Addiction is a cycle. A vicious, self serving, self fulfilling cycle. It takes immense strength and character and resolve to break the cycle. Even more so if you want to do that without hurting someone. But that, I'm told is what defines a class act.

Woo Yourself.

Hi. So here's the thing. The reason you've been feeling frustrated of late is because you're treating yourself like shit. Seriously. You're treating yourself like a big corporation treats an intern. Except that an intern gets more respect. No. You're treating yourself like a Saudi oilfield treats a migrant worker. Just FYI, living on junk food and coke is NOT pampering yourself. Spending your time at home in a haze staring at your computer screen while eating chips is a terrible way to live life. The thing is that its easy. You're in a phase of your life where you have to do difficult things. And you keep telling yourself that you have to do the right thing emotionally even if it's hard. Why on earth would the rules be different about your body? So I implore you. Love yourself a little. Stop treating yourself like people treat their date when they don't have the guts to break up with them. And I understand that this doesn't come out of the blue. It's a process. Like most things. But start. For starters, make difficult dietary choices. Oranges, fresh fruits, juices, that green thing people drink at the juice stand. Second. Get exercise. There's a perfectly good gym near your place that you're dreading. If you can't do that right now, at least fix your sleep cycle. No sleeping when you get home tonight. Wake up early. Go out for a run. You have plenty of money saved up. For gods sake, buy the sneakers you've been meaning to buy. Get a sunscreen and buy herbal shampoo. Build a healthy schedule and stick to it. Read instead of watching TV. Finish that Dostoyevsky book you've been stuck with. Stop living in that pigsty. Clean your desk. Clean your room. Change the beans in your bean bag. Make it a home. Stop dressing yourself in those rags. It doesn't make you a hippie. It makes you mad. Do laundry once in a while. Arrange your clothes in the wardrobe. Clean your bed and invest in a bedsheet. Buy a pillow. Date yourself and show yourself how classy you can be.

Flashbacks

1. A reality TV Show anchor introduces a contestant who was born in ‘71 as being from the era of the Emergency. I was in the first decade of my life. I didn’t know what happens when democracy stops to take a break.

2. Hiking in Uttarakhand. After hours of family squabbles over who was reading the map wrong, and the eight hour long drive, hotel rooms, the availability of chickens and whether that thing they were serving qualified as a chicken, we finally climbed on to the highest rock on a hill overlooking a village. That is what human beings were born to feel like.

3. A long walk down the golf course near my school having securely hidden the two-wheeler that I wasn’t supposed to be driving in the woods nearby. The thrill was amazing.

4. School graduation night. Several drunk teenagers load onto a big jeep and set out to cruise the streets, one of them sitting on the bonnet. I’m feeling kinda left out. At least I’m wearing a suit, with a silver flower pinned to my chest.

5. I speed over to the house of the popular kid in my dangerously dilapidated vehicle because he needs help with his college applications. He’s going to invite me to the party this weekend. I know it. I just know it.

6. He didn’t.

7. Having my first beer. And hating it.

8. Telling my mom about me having my first beer. She laughed.

9. My mom finding out about the Geography test I never told her I failed. And the math test. And the English homework I hadn’t turned in in months. All at once. That was a rough night.

10. My friend climbs a garage to fetch a lost ball. Slices his hand on an iron rod on the way down. Blood everywhere. You can see his bones. He whispers, “Okay. No one tells my mom what happened.” *Not in chronological order.

Acknowledgements of one’s screwups

Can’t really think straight. I think it’s guilt. Why did I not send over the recording of my poem to my team? Why did I get high instead of completing that assignment? and why am I delaying work on that new project? I guess a lot of things are happening and they’re a little overwhelming right now. It’s okay. It’s supposed to be. Objectively speaking, it is a lot to take in right now. And as long as you’re perceptive of the ways you’re working in. It is a cliche overused in the startup sphere that you’re supposed to give yourself room to fail. I say give yourself room to screw up. And give yourself the space to stand back up and attempt to break cycles. I acknowledge that my actions in the last two days have been irresponsible. And I’m gonna start to fix that by flushing the leftover weed down the toilet.

Slow and Steady, m’man.

Funny thing about phases is that sometimes they can consume every fiber of your being and replace them with something you don’t recognize. And that’s okay. We’re all so hard on ourselves. And truthfully, we’re all just doing our best and hoping things with work out. We like to pretend that we have the capacity to overcome our vulnerabilities but as we always find out, we like, totally, like don’t. I guess it’s important to remember that it’s okay to be weak sometimes. There is a lot of strength in open vulnerability. In recognizing and feeding on your vulnerability as opposed to it feeding on you. We’re all going steady. And we’re gonna get there. Till then, let’s not punish ourselves for being here.

On Vulnerability.

Okay fine. So you’re missing her. But maybe you’re not. Maybe you’re just vulnerable right now. Maybe you just need some company. Maybe you just need some emotional support. Have you considered that? Or maybe have you considered the fact that you‘re not. In fact. Superman. And that you may need some help getting through this. That maybe you don’t have to have it together all the fucking time. That maybe it’s okay to be weak sometimes. That maybe if you feel the feels for someone, it’s not really a sign of weakness. But no, you’re NEVER gonna let yourself feel vulnerable, are you? What you’re really afraid of, as you should be, is that you’re not as important to her as she is to you. That you don’t matter as much to her as she matters to you. That one day, you’ll be gone and she won’t miss you.

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