There is no God. There is no Providence. Everything happens for a reason, but the reason not necessarily be something conclusive. It might just exist to balance the scales. All those concepts of hope, faith and promise are a giant farce. Maybe this is what it is. You have just been dealt with some really awful cards in this lifetime. Some of the cards are really good, like your talents, politics, skills, knowledge, profession. But they are not enough as there are some bad cards too, like depression, gender, love (or lack thereof), loneliness, emotional instability and so on. The cards aren't enough to make a complete hand and win the game. I guess this is what it is. Its just a bad hand with a losing set of cards.
My depression is back, I think. It's different this year. None of the previous patterns have materialized. I don't have any man in my life whom I have gotten obsessively attached to. I am not having breakdowns. There is this perpetual sense of numbness. It feels like I am from a parallel universe. I am present here and yet not present at all. Work is the only thing that seems to be floating me along. Because you know, you need to work. Depression and poverty don't really go well together. I am not happy. I am not sure if I am sad. You know after being sad for too long you reach a point where your emotions develop a resilient skin to prevent itself from being vulnerable anymore. I am in that zone. Sadness has become a part of me. So it doesn't make me sad anymore. It makes me cynical, pessimistic, selfish, insensitive and so on. But at least it doesn't make me sad anymore.
I know I should have continued my therapy. I was impatient. And also my money situation was uncertain. I need 25-30k a month to survive paying rent, bills, etc. Another 3-4k a month for food. Then if there's some extra money left some good things, like movies, or eating out, drinks etc. Therapy costs anything between 4-5k a month. And if you don't regularly take it for at least 6months to a year, if not more, all the money paid for it is wasted. It costs 4-5k for 3 months of Aerobics classes which is also crucial considering my health situation. Somehow when it comes to prioritizing therapy, it always comes to the bottom most of the list just because of the idea of the long term investment it requires, when I am living in a way where I can't even be sure what my next month looks like.
I have been freelancing since last year. I can't do 9 to 5. I just cant. It's not in me anymore to be a cog in another machinery. Plus, its during days like this when it takes me hours to drag myself out of bed; freelance with no fixed timings do somewhat help. But the downside to freelancing is that your money is always uncertain. I live month by month making sure I earn at least 25k a month just to make sure that there is a roof over my head. I don't know what's happening with my career. Logistically I know it's going in the right direction and the future looks promising. But I don't know if I have it in me to hold on until that future arrives.
It was Delhi Queer Pride yesterday. I am still wondering if I should have gone for it. It has been awfully hard to get myself out of bed lately. I have to reinforce myself saying things like, "If you don't go for this, you will sink even further. So get up!" Sometimes I chant that to myself loud muffled under the quilt. I was so zoned out, I didn't have the vaguest energy in me to put on a smile. So I smoked up. That's always a handy excuse. People leave you alone and let you be on your own trip. At least you don't have to answer questions like, Why do you look so down and out? Why so sad?
But still you can't evade the endless comments and queries regarding why aren't you dressed up. Apparently, if you go out in public making proclamations about your gender nonconformity then that is the image you have to uphold. No one really paid attention when I said I am gender queer, which means I don't endorse any particular gender. I never endorsed putting on a mini skirt and high heels as a staple gender performance. If I am wearing a kurta and jeans and converse shoes, that too is a part of my genderqueerness. I will not perform a certain gender stereotype just because you are expecting that from me. And that is my understanding of nonconformity. But still I was plagued by inanely dismissive comments about my attire as to why wasn't I looking fabulous. अरे भई, कोई ठेका ले रखा है क्या fabulous लगने का? Why can't a person simply dress what they feel like without being judged over it? Someone even went on to say that "You are in drag today" I was like wow. When did I ever proclaim that femininity was my official gender that dressing up in a kurta and jeans becomes drag? Although too many women wear kurta and jeans. So if the only element that makes it masculine is my physical body itself, then I'm sorry, you're playing into the same old heteronormative gender binaries without even realizing. But irrespective of whether you realize it or not, its still fucking offensive.
Unfortunately, I was too down and out and my sass quotient was on zero. I really wish I had given it off to all of them, but I didn't have any energy or desire for confrontations. Plus its Pride. Its like bubblegum land. Everyone is happy. And you don't blame them. So I went along. By the end of the march my saturation levels had been peaked. My chronic lower back pain (because I haven't been eating properly for last one month) was shooting up and down my spine. Everyone was up on the stage and everyone else was paying attention to them. So I had my moments of seclusion but I started dreading that once it would be over and everyone would get together, I would have to stand in groups and socialize and talk and plan for the post pride party. I couldn't bear the idea. Just wanted get home, also to lay down and relieve my back. So I left without any goodbyes.
Woke up on a Monday. There's a massive work backlog and I can't get myself out of bed. Thank Heavens the calls haven't started pouring in yet. Its 2pm, I should have gotten up at 8am considering the amount of work that is pending. My maid left the job a week ago without any notice. The house is a mess. I don't know how long it will take to find another maid. Until then I would have to do all the chores. If I can manage to get myself out of bed somehow and deal with my privileged first world problems.
Privileged, it might be. But my loneliness does not cease to feel like the only black hole that one day will consume everything in its vicinity. And in the middle of it all, you start wondering. Maybe there is no God. All these concepts of hope, faith, perseverance are probably constructs created to avoid dealing with death and self-destruction of other people. There are no better days. Everything is the same. The same old mundane misery. And you keep calm and carry on. Sometimes you have to play whatever cards you're being dealt, not because you have a particular strategy in mind. But simply because its your turn and you have to play something. So here's my play. Another day. Another card. Because you just can't catch a break.
