Ïŧ’s Ăłł ïn Mў Ħeăđ

Writer. Poet. Grammar Nazi.

[verboselyme]

“Don’t stop because you’ve hit a block. Finish the page, even if you write nothing but your own name. The block will break if you don’t give in to it. Remember, writing is a physical habit as well as whatever you want to think it is—calling, avocation, talent, genius, art.” — Isabelle Holland

[verboselyme]

When Your Metaphorical Bottles Start Overflowing

I’ve been sitting here for five whole minutes wondering where to even start with this post. There’s so much in my head right now that I felt like I really needed to vent somewhere. And since everyone around me either has problems bigger than mine or are simply not people I can talk to, I’ve turned to the one thing that never disappoints me – writing.

You know that feeling when you have so many thoughts inside your head that you have trouble breathing? If you don’t know this feeling, consider yourself lucky. I’ve kind of been experiencing this all day long and I feel like I’m on the verge of tears but I can’t cry, that I’m on the verge of breaking something but I can’t because it will alarm the people around me. So instead, I’m focusing on breathing deeply and listening to Bach and Beethoven – which is not really of much help right now, but it’s worth a try.

Where is all this stemming from, you wonder? Well firstly, I’m an Indian grad student in the U.S. who’s finding it tough to cope with the American education system. I’ve almost gotten through my first semester and I’m barely surviving, but now I’ve found out that it only gets worse over the next 1.5 years. We spoke to our seniors today and while they were trying to be reassuring, they did say that the workload only gets worse as the semesters progress, especially because we’re being trained to become counselors and we’ll be dealing with real clients soon. This, on top of the fact that I have exams next week plus a few submissions before then, got me very anxious, to say the least.

I probably would not be this affected if I hadn’t already been on edge all day. The situation back home in Chennai, with the incessant rainfall and flooding, has really gotten to me today. My parents are in Chennai while I’m thousands of miles away. I thankfully managed to get in touch with them and found out that they are safe and not affected by the floods yet, but something my dad mentioned – “We still have food and water at home, don’t worry” – got me even more worried because I started getting all these thoughts in my head that what if, once they run out of provisions, they’re not able to go out and buy groceries and food because of the floods? What if they run out of water because of no electricity? These might be really negative and frankly, dramatic, thoughts, but I couldn’t stop myself from thinking them. For the first time in a long time, I found it extremely difficult to calm myself down and say, “No, everything will be fine.”

To top off my anxiety about my parents, some of my friends have been affected by the floods – with their houses getting flooded and with them having to be rescued from certain areas – and it all just hits too close to home. I’ve never been this close to experiencing the effects of a natural disaster before. Even the earthquake and Tsunami in 2004 didn’t affect me so much, maybe because I was with my family then. This time though, I’m so far away from them that I feel completely helpless.

I was trying to maintain my cool all day, but when I got to class and everyone started talking about the future and stuff, I couldn’t really keep it in anymore. I got extremely restless and was literally on the verge of tears. I couldn’t breathe properly. I couldn’t focus on class. Feeling all this was quite scary, and that only served to fuel my anxiety. I ended up texting someone who already has a lot on their plate right now – way more stuff than what I am going through – and I feel guilty about even doing that because as I’ve mentioned in my earlier post, I am someone who is very good at bottling up my emotions and I don’t like reaching out for help, because I think that makes me weak.

So does that mean that I am weak right now? Are my metaphorical bottles starting to overflow? Have I finally reached that point where I can’t keep it in anymore? Where I can’t mask my anxiety with a smile and an “I’m okay”?

I’m afraid the answer to these questions might be a huge, resounding yes. And I really, really, need to work on myself. I need to reach out for help. I can’t keep bottling up everything and pretending like everything is okay. If I was back home, I could have gone and hugged my mom and felt like things were going to be okay, but here I have to fend for myself. I have to learn to help myself. Or very soon, I might end up like this:

... And I really do not want to reach this stage. 

Unfortunately, I can’t find it in myself to end this post optimistically today.

[verboselyme]

Midnight Reflections - Bottle ‘em Up!

Push it back, and focus on being happy.

This is a mantra that I chant to myself on a regular basis, and talking to someone today made me realize that I do this a lot – pushing negative emotions to the back of my mind and focusing on staying positive and happy. I used to think this was a healthy approach but now I’m wondering if it really is.

I am a counselor (in-training at the moment) and I’ve always told my clients that they should never keep things bottled up because it never ends well, that it’s bound to bubble up to the surface someday. Today, I realized that I’m a hypocrite. I tend to do the exact thing that I’ve been telling people not to do – I bottle up my emotions.

I’ve sat here for about ten minutes and I’ve tried thinking back to as far as I can, and I realized that I have never shared anything personal with anyone. I have never told anyone of what I’ve truly felt about the stuff I’ve been through as part of a family, as an individual, and as a friend – never. And this makes me feel very disturbed.

I guess I’m just afraid that if I share something personal with someone, I might just break down because all the feelings that I’ve bottled up over the years might just come bubbling to the surface – and this terrifies me. I absolutely hate pity or sympathy. I hate talking about my problems and having someone feel bad for me. For some reason, I can’t stand being pitied. I don’t know how I can expect my clients to share personal feelings with me when I can’t do the same with others. I need to be more authentic.

It’s not like I don’t share my experiences with people I’m close to. I do share my experiences with my family and with my best friend. But that’s the thing – I share the experience. I don’t share what I’m feeling about the experience. And if my parents or my best friend start sympathizing with me, I usually play it down with a, “Oh never mind, I’ll get over it” or “It’s okay. Just forget about it.” Never do I actually say, “Yeah, this is making me really upset” or “I’m feeling really sad right now.”

I just push it back, and I focus on being happy again.

I’m an extremely resilient person, though. I might feel horrendously upset about something one day – I might even cry over it – but then I wake up the next day and I feel like a completely new person, with a fresh perspective. Sometimes it just takes a good cry for me to get over something, and once I’m all cried out, I’ll be like, “What was I even crying about?” I guess that’s why I haven’t yet broken down – because some of the stuff I’ve been through would have definitely made a less-resilient person break down by now.

I guess another reason why I haven’t broken down yet is because I’ve had a lot of good things happen to me over the years, and this has made me a very optimistic person. Now, if I have a bad experience, I tell myself that something better is coming along. I don’t deny that I push things to the back of my mind, but I do try to put a positive spin on things. I strongly believe that if one door closes, another one always opens. This viewpoint comes from my mother, I would say. She’s always told me that everything happens for a reason, and since I’ve heard this all my life, it’s become a part of my persona now.

Like I’ve said, I’ve had a lot of good experiences, and till date, my whole living-the-life-of-a-superstar experience stands out as the best one and it’s the memory I turn to when I’m feeling down. I believe these good experiences overshadow the bad ones and generally make me a very optimistic person. And I’ve got enough optimism now to shell out to my future clients. I may have issues related to opening up, yes, and I might have to take some help with those issues, but I strongly believe that one day I’ll be an excellent counselor. And hopefully, that day I won’t have to “push it back” anymore but I’ll be able to deal with my problems as they come.

I look forward to that day.

(See, even this post ended on an optimistic note!)

[verboselyme]

Fading Away

I lie awake at night more often now than I used to. I lie awake and I stare up at the ceiling fan – that darned ancient fan which barely moves faster than I do on my crutches. I lie awake and I wonder what purpose I hold in life anymore.

I’m old and weary. I cannot walk without support. I have no family left – at least none that care for me anymore. I have no means of livelihood. No one visits me anymore except for the daily caretaker, who is paid to do so.

I lie awake at night… and sometimes wonder whether there is any point to living anymore.

It is during these dark times that I look over to my nightstand and I see her. That beautiful face, nestled in an ornate golden frame, forever captured at a moment when she looked so radiant that my heart still lurches every time I see her.

It is during these moments that I remember her words – still fresh in my fading memory – from when she was on her deathbed, “Don’t you dare stop living when I’m not around. Don’t you dare lose hope. Keep living life. Live it for me, my love.”

The memory of those words evokes emotions that I keep buried deep within me. Tears well up in my eyes, and I let out a painful moan.

Oh, how I miss her!

A sudden rush of memories fill my mind, and just for a moment, I lose myself. I forget where I am. Just for a moment, she’s as real to me as the frame I now clutch in my hands. Just for a moment, I feel her sitting next to me, stroking my hair and whispering sweet words into my ear.

Just as suddenly, the moment vanishes, and I find myself sobbing, gasping for air.

She’s gone again.

I clutch the photo frame to my chest and sob as I relive the pain of losing her. I sob until I have no more tears left in me.

I’m still gasping for breath as I slowly wipe away the tears on my cheek with shaking, wrinkled hands.

Her words stay fresh in my mind.

Keep living life. Live it for me, my love.

I place the frame back on the nightstand. I stroke her beautiful face through the glass of the frame, and I promise her, once again, that I will continue living.

---

I'm not really satisfied with this piece of writing. But I had to get some words out today because I was going a little crazy sitting at home with nothing to do (the word "nothing" has been used very loosely here).

Oh well, at least I got something decent (albeit morbid) written after a long time. Trying to get over my writer's block, one day at a time. 

[verboselyme]

Take Off Those Rose-Tinted Glasses

I did a bit of research recently while I was preparing for a seminar on marriage, love and romance (which explains the subject of my previous post as well). I read the book Why Men Don’t Listen & Women Can’t Read Maps and came across a finding (by Dr. Helen Fisher) about how there are three emotions in the brain during the "love process," which occur in three consequent stages.

The first stage is lust. We all know what lust is so that doesn't need much explanation. This is basically the initial stage of physical, nonverbal attraction. Men are completely blinded by testosterone when they meet a woman they’re attracted to, so they’re easily led into this phase of the love process, and they believe that the woman they’re with is ‘The One’. However, this lust phase eventually dries out and reality kicks in; this is when they realize that they’re not really all that interested in this woman who previously seemed so exciting and exotic.

For a woman, however, the link between emotion and reason are better connected in her brain so she’s able to think more rationally about whether a guy is right for her. When she decides he’s not, she ends the relationship. This is why most relationships are ended by the woman, leaving the man completely confused.

The second stage is infatuation. This is the stage when the person you’re attracted to keeps popping up in your head and you can’t seem to stop thinking about him/her. Infatuation is so strong an emotion that it can lead to extraordinary despair when you are rejected by the person you’re infatuated with. The good news, however, is that the infatuation stage is temporary – it lasts only for about 3 to 12 months. After this stage, you move onto the next and final stage, attachment, which is when you create a deeper bond with the person you've been dating. This is probably around the time when most people decide to get married.

So what’s the take home message from this post? I’d say wait for the initial “spark” to die down, for the butterflies in your stomach to settle – basically for the infatuation stage to fade away – before you decide to spend the rest of your life with a person. You may have to wait for around a year to reach this stage, but slow and steady always wins the race, right?

You might be thinking by now that I’m being a total cynic for preaching this to you, or that I’m not a romantic at heart. I’ll have you know that I’m a huge romantic at heart. I believe in true love and I believe that there’s a soul mate for me out there somewhere. But one thing that studying Psychology has definitely taught me is that it’s always better to be skeptical and to think about things from every angle possible.

In this case, Psychology has taught me to take off those rose-tinted glasses and take love with a pinch of salt…Even though I technically don’t even know what love means exactly.

[verboselyme]

What exactly goes on in your brain when you're crazy in love?

So I recently read this article that talked about what exactly goes on in your brain when you're in love. I'm a huge fan of biopsychology, so this obviously got me super excited.

According to that article (plus some other reading up I did), there are parts of our brain that are activated when we're in love and parts that are deactivated.

Ever wonder why you can’t think straight and make rational decisions when it comes to the person you love? And why you can’t seem to spot a single flaw in him/her when the rest of the world sees it? Both of these are because the part of your brain that controls your judgment (the frontal lobe) “switches off” when you’re in love, or at least when you’re thinking about the person you love.

Wondered why people have those silly grins on their faces and why they seem so annoyingly happy all the time when they’re in love – like as though they’re high all the time? That’s because the part of their brain that controls negative emotions (the mid temporal cortex) is deactivated when they think of the person they adore the most. This is also because the neurotransmitter, Dopamine (a chemical released in the brain), is at higher levels for these people, and Dopamine is linked to euphoria, desire and addiction – all things that are felt when one takes opioid drugs like cocaine!

The hormone adrenalin also plays a part in love – this is the hormone that makes our mouth go dry, our heart race, and palms sweat when we see the person we’re attracted to. Adrenalin is also the hormone released when you’re engaged in a physically arousing activity, which explains why people who go through frightening experiences together suddenly believe that they’re totally attracted to one another!

More and more research is being done on this interplay between love and the brain, but the basic message from all of this is probably:

Quite sad, isn’t it? That you might think you love a person with all your heart but it’s all just a result of the basic biological stuff that goes on in your brain (to put it in very crude terms). But I absolutely love findings like these. I’m a little worried about whether I’ll start spouting out findings like these to my future boyfriend and chase him away…

Oh well, if he sticks around even after I say stuff like this, I’d say he’s a keeper.

[verboselyme]

Breakthrough!

Finally had a breakthrough with my writing today! I don't know what happened. It was like that clogged-up filter in my brain suddenly got cleared out and I was hit by new ideas and stuff. I even managed to get a whole two pages written (which is huge progress for me at the moment). Anyone who's reading this post will probably react like this:

 But I don't care! I'll be excited enough for everyone :D

[verboselyme]

Imaginary Breakup?

We walk along the road. He takes my hand in his, and I wonder if this will be the last time that we hold hands. As if reading my mind, he squeezes my hand and I look up at him. He’s smiling down at me lovingly, but I know that his heart is crying inside. I see the sadness in his eyes. Tears well up in my own and his smile fades. He gently cups my face in his hands and wipes away the tears that are now streaming down my cheeks. His soothing voice keeps telling me that it’s going to be okay, but I know that nothing will ever be the same.

---

I wrote this back in 2006. I was 14. I have no idea what was running through my head when I wrote this, because I definitely had no boyfriend back then. If I wrote this now - as a 21-year-old - it would be more believable (even though I still have no boyfriend, but let's leave that aside for now). But at 14? Did I have that active an imagination back then?

Sigh. I don't know what goes on in my own head sometimes.

[verboselyme]

The Flower Seller

Her plump little fingers move in a surprisingly graceful yet mechanical fashion as she picks up an array of flowers from the large basket in front of her and strings these flowers together with thread. The red glass bangles on her arms make a clinking sound with every motion she makes with her hands. Her mind seems elsewhere as she goes about her work, a distracted expression clouding her aging round face. The wrinkles on her forehead and around her eyes deepen when she selects a flower from the basket, and relax once again as she strings it along with the rest.

It has been a hot day, and the sudden chill of the evening provides respite for those who, like her, sit along the roadside and try to earn a living. After a long day at work, her graying hair is starting to come loose off its bun and frames her chocolate face in a wild disarray. She talks to no one as she continues to work, stopping occasionally to wipe the sweat off her forehead. Now and then a small boy – her grandson? – runs around her, shouting in glee and interrupting her work, causing her to shush him in a hoarse but loud voice.

The occasional passerby slows down as they walk by her, trying to take in the heady scent of the flowers in her basket – a scent that she has become immune to. Some stop and buy flowers from her, which she measures out in arm lengths before snipping the seemingly never-ending string with a pair of scissors and handing them their purchase. She accepts the money they give her and touches the notes to her eyes in quiet prayer before drawing out a metal box and placing the money inside. And then she goes back to work.

---

I was looking through what I'd written in the past few years (to draw some inspiration to write) and found this essay I wrote back in 2010. Thought I'd post it here.  

[saraamcclory-blog]

[verboselyme]

Hahaha this is exactly what happens to me every time I sit down to write.

[verboselyme]

The Indefiniteness of It All

I've been on an indefinite vacation from college for almost two weeks now because of the whole Tamil Nadu-Sri Lanka issue that's been going on here (if you don't know what I'm referring to - the Almighty Google has answers to all your questions). It was definitely a much-needed break for me, and I found myself partying every night, getting drunk, and hooking up with random people... well, I found myself doing all that in my head, at least. In reality, I was enjoying my time relaxing at home, catching up on TV shows, annoying my cat, playing the piano, and pigging out on junk food. 

Well, the second week of this 'indefinite' vacation is coming to an end and I'm starting to have ambivalent feelings about it now, because prolonging this indefiniteness will mean that once college does reopen, I'm going to be buried 6-feet-under a pile of work, which would defeat the whole purpose of me taking a break from the stress.

Anyway, as of now I'm trying to make the most of my free time (which is not really supposed to be free, considering I have studying and all that crap to do). Just this week, I found out that one of my short stories has finally been published in a book! I was one of the 20 winners of a short story contest back in February 2012, and they'd promised to publish the book with all the winners' entries by April 2012. They're only a year late, but hey, at least I'm finally a published writer! :D

I went back to read the story that I'd submitted for the contest, and now I'm thinking that I could have written it way better than I originally had. I mean, I liked the story and all, but I probably could have made more changes to it (ironic, considering that my story is called 'Change'). Oh well, I guess a writer is never satisfied with his/her work, right?

What was the point of this post again? I don't know really, but I think I began writing this with the thought that, "I need to write something or I'll go crazy." You see, I've been stuck with the dreaded Writer's Block for what seems like ages. Every time I sit at my laptop to type a couple of chapters or even only a few more paragraphs of my stories, I find myself just going blank. I can't get out more than a line or two at a time. It's like there used to be a fully functional filter between the part of my brain that produced ideas and the other part which formed the ideas into logical sentences and allowed me to write very nice stuff, but now that filter has gotten clogged and dirty and has cut off the connection between the two. So basically all these ideas are swirling around in the first part of my brain, saying "Get me out! Get me out!" but the other part is just not getting the message.

An indefinite vacation. An indefinite writer's block.

Sigh. I don't even know if I made any sense in this post. I usually don't make any sense, but it feels nice to just get out whatever's in this clogged up brain of mine from time to time. So here's another random post for all the millions of readers I have out there (HA!).

Any ideas on how to unblock a writer's block?

[verboselyme]

Visit Original Link

SUCH an awesome song. I can never get tired of POTF <3

[verboselyme]

Stay Strong

I used to think you were so bubbly and cheerful.

I used to believe you were so happy with life.

I used to think that your shy demeanor was

Only a part of your sweet personality.

  I believed that all this was what made you uniquely you.

  I never knew that it was only a mask –

A mask for all that pain you stored inside.

I never saw the signs, never saw the warnings,

Not until you opened up to me.

  Only now do I see everything.

  I see those eyes glisten with unshed tears,

When you think no one else is looking.

I see you smile at everyone, telling them you’re happy;

But no one else knows the truth.

  Only now do I see everything.

  I see your scars, both physical and mental.

I see how broken you are on the inside.

I see how hard it is for you to keep it together,

And I see how hard you’re trying to fight.

  I love you, my dear one.

  I love you with all my heart and soul.

I will stand by your side and will help you fight

And I will help you get rid of the demons that haunt you.

  That day will come, dear one.

  That day will come –

The day when you will be free from all the pain and sorrow;

The day when you won’t feel like you need a release from that pain;

The day when you will be able to laugh with true happiness and joy.

  The day will come when you can take off your mask

And show the world that you don’t care what they have to say.

That day will come.

  Just believe in yourself and stay strong, dear one;

And say that you will wait for that day with me.

Because I’m by your side, through the thick and thin,

And I’ll be by your side forever.

  - 16.08.2012

Dedicated to someone who means a lot to me. You know who you are.

[verboselyme]

Ramblings of a stressed-out mind

When they said that the M.Sc. degree at my college would be "challenging", they weren't kidding. I think "challenging" is just an euphemism for "so stressful that you think your head will burst." Honestly, I haven't lost this much of sleep since the end of my final year of B.Sc. Everyone in my class is falling sick, mostly due to the stress. These are what we call psychosomatic symptoms - like when your mental state affects you physically. I got a horrid headache yesterday and started feeling so nauseous after a while that I couldn't study for the exam I had today. My mum claims it was because I was overworked, and I have to agree because as soon as I let myself relax for like half an hour last night, I felt much better.  

To think that I'm already this stressed out at just the beginning of my M.Sc. course is a little terrifying, to be quite honest.

I want to write a story or a poem or something that's creative, but my head just feels blocked from anything remotely creative. So that's why I've resorted to just venting out my random feelings here on Tumblr. It's somewhat satisfying to here that tap-tap-tap sound while I type this out. Therapeutic even. Think I'll do this more often.

[verboselyme]

Wow.

I haven't posted in 8 months? That's just sad.

I can't believe I didn't even post my whole meeting-Imran-Khan thing here, considering that I was raving on about it everywhere else. Facebook keeps me away from all these other networking sites I've joined. I'm beginning to think Facebook is evil.

Anywho, I have no idea what else to write in this post, so I'll just shut up for now. 

[verboselyme]

Trust

It’s cold, dark, rainy.

Where did the sun go?

I look at the sky in question,

But it just stares gloomily back at me.

I wring my hands, purse my lips,

And I pace around my chamber.

Is this an omen, a sign,

Telling me not to go?

But I must go.

I must leave.

I cannot stay here anymore.

He must be worried about me now.

He will wonder where I am.

“Be it rain or shine, you must come,” he’d said.

“Or I will have to come looking for you.”

Oh, but he cannot come here!

I must go.

I must leave.

I can’t let anyone see me.

I hide my face in the hood of my cloak

As I step out of the house, cautiously.

As though in protest, the sky opens up

With a bolt of lightning – startling me momentarily.

Within seconds, I’m drenched,

But I cannot stop now.

I head out on foot, shivering –

Whether out of cold or fear, I do not know.

It takes long, but I reach the place,

Drenched from head to toe.

He’s waiting for me in his carriage –

He’s waiting for me.

  My heart swells when I catch sight of him –

He’s the only one I trust now.

He pulls me close as I step into the carriage,

Encircling me in his arms.

I settle down in quiet contentment,

Knowing that the danger has passed.

I am finally free now,

Finally free to be with him.

It is only then that I hear the quiet, metallic sound,

And feel the dagger pressing into my neck.

But what – I have no time to think

As I feel the sharp slash across my throat.

Intense pain.

Too much blood.

Numbness creeping along my body.

The last thing I remember is that cold gleam in his eyes.

And then, there’s nothing.

- 22.08.10

[verboselyme]

Love

Love can be simple. It can be the pleasure you get When you read an all-time favourite book of yours. It can be the happy reminiscing While listening to an old song. It can be the secret smiles you share With your loved one across a room. Love can be complicated. It can be the tears you shed When you fight with someone dear. It can be the tug you feel in your chest When you see an old lover. It can even be the pain you feel When your heart has been broken by someone. But one thing can be said for sure – Love is universal. It’s all-consuming. Omnipresent. It makes us laugh, It makes us cry; But in the end we know That each one of us has loved, At least once in our lives. -16.08.09