After two weeks of an unwarranted hiatus, I’m writing. I’m back.
I have been MIA these past two weeks. Life threw me in for a loop (or maybe it came to a screeching halt) and we all know how that can be. Right? And I’m not going to call them curve balls. These were downright strikeouts. I’m still not one hundred percent recovered from the hit, but adversity is not foreign to me. (Like I said here,Happiness never really taught me much) Let’s put it this way, at this point, hard times have just become an unbearable ennui, but I’m still standing. Perhaps psychologically, emotionally injured, but it didn’t knock me down. Isn’t that something? It’s true what they say. The more hardships you experience in life, the stronger you undeniably become. I have always been a strong person, but my strength sometimes catches even me by surprise.
So what’s up?
Lately I feel as if I have been blindfolded, thrown into the middle of the ocean, with no life jacket, and no haven or relief in sight. (Good thing I’m a strong swimmer) And however much I love the ocean and long for it, right now I’m in stormy seas. I can swim, but to where? I don’t know which direction I should take? Maybe I don’t want to go to the shore I have always found solace. Perhaps I seek now different sands? Or maybe, in some twisted way, I want the waves to swallow me whole. Maybe it’s not the shore I seek. Maybe it’s an island, or a boat, or a ship, or the moon, or stars, or an entirely different planet. Somewhere quiet. Some solitude. Or perhaps I’m so use to drowning that drowning doesn’t even bother me anymore and hence I don’t realize that is what’s actually happening.
I am f*&@ing drowning. The wind has been knocked out of me.
Yet I refuse to believe that I won’t find my way out of these depths. I have done it many times before. I can do it again. I just won’t be the same when I come back. In the inside, my soul resembles an old raggedy doll who has been tucked away in the attic for years. You can see the eye fell off once, but now it’s being held in place by this black thread, and the head is off to one side, there’s a patch of old fabric where the nose was, and the once colorful dress is dusty and completely washed out. It’s me, but a mutilated version of me. Believe me, it’s the kind of shit you feel in your bones.
I read once an old Buddhist saying, “You will not be punished for your anger, you will be punished by your anger.” Do you think it’s true? I do.
So it’s one step at a time Linjen. (This is what I tell myself every morning) One step at a time. Take a deep breath. And though it seems right now as if this is an insurmountable obstacle, recall your boundless love for Ishaan. Love, after all, I believe, overcomes all. Just take it one day at a time. And breathe. Don’t forget to breathe. Life isn’t perfect. Love isn’t perfect. And others aren’t perfect, much less you. You have a vision, perhaps visions, realize them in spite of bumpy roads. Ishaan is depending on you. Let your love for him be a compass to do what is right. You’ll see. With time, everything will be extraordinary.