On Being Forever Alone

Well it's no breaking news to anybody who has been following my blog for all these years. I suck at maintaining relationships. And not just the usual boyfriend-girlfriend crap. I mean ALL sorts of relationships. I am a bad daughter. Bad sister. Bad aunt. Bad cousin. Bad friend. Horrendous girlfriend. Nightmare would be daughter-in-law. And so on. Of all these, by the way, I have realised romantic relationships are the most superficial ones. I mean it's just sex and some chemical reactions induced by the primitive survival urges. And we call it love. I have fallen in and out of love so many times I can hardly keep a count. And I have prayed for bad things to happen to those same people when that 'love' went astray. Vengeful? Little bit, yeah. And a whole lot bitter.


After thirty one years of journey I have come to terms with one thing about myself. That I am not exactly what you can call a 'normal' person. I have severe anxiety, coupled with occasional bouts of depression that often leaves me crippled. I am always waiting for something bad to happen with me. On some days just leaving bed in the morning is my achievement of the day. I suffer from terrible mood swings. They are so erratic and so vicious that even I can't predict them. I am prone to self-harm, substance abuse. Although I am trying very hard these days to get past those impulses and stay afloat. In relationships, I tend to get codependent, and as a result I am often too jealous and insecure. Other times, I am cold and aloof. I am bad at expressing my affection. I don't even feel love the same way 'normal' people feel it. I hate intimacy. And that probably explains why I am so bad at relationships. I never had any long term relationship. Commitment freaks me out even though I am not the promiscuous type. I don't speak with half the people of my own family and nor do I ever intend to mend things between us. Even though I do have few close friends, my chemistry with them will be beyond comprehension for most. My general POV often deviates from socially acceptable standard. It's scary as hell at times. I am always torn between this crippling fear of abandonment and an urge of running away from those I care about. People don't understand me. And I don't blame them either. I am not easy. But I hate those who claim to understand me 'in and out'. I hate those who try to manipulate me; people who take my good faith as my gullibility. I never forgive. I always have a hard time trusting others because it never ends well for me.


I have befriended/dated/chatted/had flings with my fair share of men which you can label as more than enough to last one lifetime. And given my track record, there will be many more in future. One thing is for sure. I am not cut out for a traditional life. I am not one of those who just meets a guy, falls in love, gets married (with appropriate amount of approval from both the families), have kids, raises them (while engaging in appropriate social activities), grows old, and then dies into oblivion. Honestly, I don't see the point behind it. More than ninety percent of my friends/acquaintances are leading the above mentioned life and I don't envy them even a bit. Not even the 'fairy-tale' wedding of Deepika Padukone and Ranveer Singh made me sigh for once. If you ask me, I envy those eccentric travel blogger women whose blogs I so ardently follow. I envy Helen Mirren. I envy Padmalaxmi. I envy all those successful single mothers who are raising their kids on their own and still kicking ass.

I have mentioned many times that one of my biggest fantasies is to elope with someone. The idea of having a social wedding makes me nauseous. Oh such pointless waste of money and energy. The show off. The drudgery of socialising with a bunch of people nobody gives fuck about. Not to mention all that intrusion in one's privacy. I often dream of getting married in some ancient temple tucked away in the woods surrounded by strangers. Just imagine the fun. A memory of lifetime. I know, terrible idea. But what's life without some terrible adventures?


Talking about social functions, I am a sociopath. I don't like mixing with people. I find making small talks more torturous than getting an enema. (Never got one if you are wondering. Just a figure of speech.) And most importantly, I get along very very rarely with people of my own gender. I may like to wear lipsticks. I may know more about Manish Malhotra than you but it doesn't mean I am interested in having an estrogen party. In my experience, women are more into talking about shopping and people they dislike. I am not interested in either unless you want to listen to my elaborate murder plans. And as far as I can recall the last conversation I enjoyed was with a sixty five year old Sikkimese man about the concept of death and afterlife while sipping vodka on the rocks. And that's where the confusion starts. None of my boyfriends till date ever really 'got' my nature. They usually fall for the pretty facade and think I am someone who would go on double dates and chitchat with other women sipping breezer while the men in the group would indulge themselves in intellectual 'manly' ventures. Newsflash. I would rather spend a whole week talking to myself than let that happen. Ever. EVER. By the way, my three best friends are all women and the strong sociopathic traits aside, they are usually on the same page with me when it comes to life.


That brings us to my next conundrum. I am often labeled as a very stubborn, rigid woman. And everyone knows a woman should never be stubborn. A woman must tolerate every single bullshit hurled at her. A woman must compromise with her values. Otherwise a home will not be built on solid foundation. Well, screw you and your misogynistic propaganda. I am only stubborn when it comes to my beliefs. Who am I without my convictions? Strip them off and I am just another flesh and blood entity with a vagina. An object to fuck. A breeding machine.

And if nothing else, then my take on parenthood definitely freaks people out, men especially. I am not against having my own progeny. I just don't believe it's a compulsion. I do not believe giving birth to a brand new human being makes one noble or any different. Isn't the earth already overpopulated? And how much of a loser are you that you have to find purpose by getting knocked up? I am yet to find my true calling but I sure as hell know that it doesn't involve getting knocked up. And what is this toxic tradition of emotionally blackmailing the kids for the rest of their life? You are my property because I chose to give birth to you? And seriously, why do people think their life will be 'complete' when they will become parent? The whole idea of procreation is a sociological propaganda injected in our bones since the beginning of time in order to protect that same old strategy. Survival of human race.


There is also another common trait I have observed among men I have dated. No matter how modern and progressive they claim to be, there is one word that flips them out more than anything. Feminist. Oh so you are a feminist? You must hate all men. You are a feminist? You must abhor doing household chores. You are a feminist? You must have fucked a lot of men. You are a feminist? You must be arrogant and rude to people. SHUT THE FUCK UP, WILL YOU?? I don't hate all men. In fact I hate everyone irrespective of their sex. Because I am an anti-social. I love doing household chores. Because I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I like my things clean and I don't like outsiders touching my stuff. As for how many men I have bedded, none of your fucking business. I am a feminist because I believe in equal rights. I believe in impressing my future in laws with my education and intellectual quotient, not with my expertise at household chores. I am a feminist because I want to go out of my house whenever I wish without a male bodyguard. I am a feminist because I want to sit and drink alone in a pub without attracting unwanted attention. I am a feminist because I believe in the equality of bikini and burka as long as it's the wearer's free choice. I am a feminist because I believe whether a woman chooses to work or not after marriage it's her wish.


I often hear that when one meets the 'right person' then everything falls into place on its own. To be honest, I don't know what love is. I have never really felt it. Definitely not in the same way that others do. The idea of soulmate confuses me. I can speak from my experience only. And my experience says that whenever I told a man about my anxiety I have either received condescending smile of denial or harsh, abusive remarks. Others have taken my misery as some grand romantic plot to fulfill their own fantasy. I have never been with anyone who accepted me for who I exactly am. They fall for the parts of me and then try to reshape me as per their convenience. I am a highly flawed, imperfect person. But I also believe my flaws are a part of what I am. Love me or hate me it's your choice; but you can't simply exorcise my demons out of me. Life is simple. But people always tend to complicate it. They bring in the crowd. They bring in the customs. And I have never been good with either of them. Being alone sucks at times. It really does. But once one has mastered the art of being alone one is pretty much invincible. And that's the ultimate goal, isn't it?

Comments