A reunion of a different kind


I reached for my phone with closed eyes,tears burning, and heavy sighs, as if a big balloon sat perched on my diaphragm. The irony; how emotions could turn water into fire, and could air make one suffocate.
I felt hurt and betrayed. I’m not a stranger to feelings of hurt and betrayals – but there was a  sense of acute pervasiveness about this betrayal, and it seared into my heart until I felt physical pain.

I was nonchalantly perusing through a book I’ve been reading in medias res since last year – Man’s search for himself, by Rollo May, when the feeling ambushed me. This was the reason I hadn’t been able to sit through reading a book cover to cover for years; my thoughts had a way of creeping up on me when I least expected it.

I closed the book to attend to my feelings, probing. I wondered…could it be…? My probing summoned a thought that seemed to know whence these feelings came. Indeed, I hit a nerve, because at once my heart started raining tears, and stirring up strong gusts of wind that I had to breathe deeply to relieve myself of.

I was betrayed by someone very close, and for so long. I felt hurt,anger,fear- all at once. I didn’t know how I kept such a deep secret from myself for so long. Or perhaps it’s because of its grave nature that I repressed it for as long as I had.

A lot of things made sense, and I wondered how I could have been blindsided in such a way and if there was any redemption in this at all?

The person in question might come as an odd surprise, but I think it makes perfect sense. Me.

The deep-seated betrayal I uncovered was one I felt towards some parts of me. I realized that I was intensely afraid of myself, of being alone with my thoughts. The thoughts that had been a source of much anguish and torture for over a decade. I hated being left to my own being because that’s when the gremlins would come out of the woodwork. I’d keep myself intensely occupied at all times; perfectionism,codependency,comfort eating. I felt betrayed because I was the one who sabotaged my own dreams, I was the one who let others walk all over me, I was the one who failed myself in so many different ways. I was the first to tear down my dreams, and the last to acknowledge my successes and hard work. I felt alienated in my own skin and I was forever roaming the earth like a hapless ghost looking for a tether to hold on to. I wasn’t welcome within my being. I was an outcast.

For this I was angry and hurt but immensely relieved. My discovering this meant that I was finally ready to forgive myself, to reconcile with the parts of me that had broken away in fear. It meant that peace was in the middle of the battlefield, and I’m getting ready,  my only armour being courage.

Years and years


I hated you, I was mad at you, I was enraged. An emotional ball of yarn sat perched in my heart and you knitted webs of pain throughout my being by your invalidation; by your neglect; by your absence when I needed you; by your smothering when I needed space. The web was so intricate and beautiful that I did not dare unknit it. It was killing me slowly, but it was so beautiful. I was scared that beneath the webs, there was nothing. I felt like a ghost and this pain made me feel…real.

But, I started tugging at it. Unravelling and unrolling. Retracing the embedded pain and reluctantly ripping it out. A concoction of relief and panic followed me every step of the way. And when I reached the end of the thread, my anger dissipated. My tears dried. I found forgiveness where anger once was. And I hugged you like my life depended on it. I hugged you like you should have hugged me as a baby.We didn’t speak but I felt your remorse and you felt my love. In a moment, we relived 25 years.


This diagram is imperative in understanding the dynamics of depression & suicidal thoughts. Please share, perchance someone at the end of their wits might find this helpful. It’s been of tremendous help to me!





Terrorists need some therapy

Midnight Thoughts & Thunder

« Serial soliloquies»


weather: No clue. Curtains are still closed XD

time: Afternoon-ish

I was watching a VICE documentary on the ISIS (the only of its kind I believe) where reporter Medyan Dairieh spent three weeks with the ISIS and though I didn’t watch it in full, the aggressive demeanour and the obsessiveness with shedding blood made me realize what I always suspected about these extremist groups; that they are channelling deep seated frustration and a sense of inadequacy, emasculation even, through violence.

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