I started therapy with a pro-bono mental health NGO last week. Last Friday I was diagnosed with Bipolar Affective Disorder II. My medication has begun. Anti-convulsants, anti-depressants and B12 (fatty acids).
Here we go.
I just spent 2500 bucks on Saturday for a full body waxing- to rip every single hair out of my body. Even my anus. My pubic region. And my fucking balls. It hurt like a crazy motherfucker. And to put things in perspective I have 10000 bucks in my account for the rest of the month. You know why I did it? I wish I could say 'Oh I because it makes me feel so good' But for all my feminism, I did it for a guy.
Long story short, he's a guy I've known for a while. Very sweet and nice, very sincere and transparent, a bit douchey but not in a male privilegy way but more like a spoilt brat. He calls himself a pansexual and is quite sorted with his understanding of queer and feminist politics. Oh and also he is polyamorous. Now we always had massive sexual attraction for each other. But he lives in a different city. So we seldom get to meet. We came to Delhi once and we did hook up. We talked about consent and kink (he is into BDSM and I want to explore). And all sorts of things.
Two months back he tells me that he is moving to Delhi. Obviously I get all excited and anticipatory. All this while I had been categorically not letting myself think about him. Because every time I do, I get a perpetual boner. Not because he's hot or attractive. He's exactly my kind of kinky and he knows that. I started getting serious as we started chatting vigorously everyday and since the whole puppies thing had happened I was quite emotionally vulnerable. So I told him let's take a break and resume chatting once he is actually here. He agreed.
He's never going to move here. But he came to Delhi last weekend. A week before that he vaguely told me that he's seeing someone. But I didnt take it seriously because he himself is not usually serious about people he meets and also claims to be polyamorous. And he asks me if he can stay over at my place for the weekend he is in town. I obviously agree.
The winter had quite an onslaught on my body. I wanted to clean up. I had 12500 bucks in my account (for perspective my rent costs 18000 bucks) and I had no idea when my next freelance money will come in. But I was like fuck it. I dont do this for every other guy. If I guy asks me to shave my legs and put on a dress, I tell him to fuck off. But I want to do it for this guy. I know he loves it when I dress up and wear heels. But he will never ask me to do that because he will never belittle me or my body that way. And that is the very reason I want to do it, not just for him because this is the way I love the manifestation of my own femininity as well. When I get to choose whether I am feminine or not. Not when thats the only way a man can be attracted to me. So I went ahead spent all that money, literally killed myself on the waxing bed and was all clean.
When he comes home in the evening. He decides to tell me that NOW he has decided to give monogamy a try and can't "indulge in infidelity" anymore. Things got ugly. I ended up begging and pleading him to sleep with me. To hold me. To make me feel like a woman again, the kind of woman I imagine myself to be. Because right at that moment I realized I dont even remember when was the last time I felt like that because all men can you feel like is that you're a hole for them to fuck. And they dress you up in heels and dresses so that they can forget who you are and instead imagine you as a woman. So I begged. He was one of the very few guys I have met all my life, and currently the only guy I knew, who actually saw me for who I am. So I begged.
He didn't relent.
So I asked him to leave. Actually he offered to leave himself and I never stopped him. I also asked him to never call me or message me again, because the next morning all the begging and pleading would make me feel like shit. Because he was the guy I had to beg and plead to. He obviously protested. But he left.
What I didnt tell him was that he shouldn't have come at all. When he was so decided about his newfound monogamy. When he was very well aware of how I felt for him. He shouldn't have come. Why do men do this? "Oh I see you as a good friend!" FUCK FRIENDSHIP! Bloody assholes! I have enough fucking friends in my life already who are mighty pissed with me because I'm canceling on them to spend the godforsaken weekend with YOU! We are MORE than friends when I sucked your fucking cock. And you know it better than anyone else. So dont do this pretentious normative bullshit of keeping friendships. When you have fucking decided to suddenly turn monogamous, then stop fucking contacting people you have fucked around with in the name of friendship. I dont want to be friends. Not with YOU of all people! Fuck you. And FUCK your friendship.
Its the same old shit again. Same old. Nothing has changed. Oh wait. One thing has changed. I didn't miserably and hopelessly fall for a guy I can never have. I didn't go through those months of Single White Female psycho (e)motions. So I guess my depression didn't have an tangible excuse to manifest itself in all its melodramatic glory. That way this winter was actually quite sane. So yay. Pat me on my back. Clap clap clap. Whatever.
The insane thing that did happen instead was, long story short: I decided to channel all this abundance of love that I have to give, towards something more practical. I decided to adopt puppies. Two cute little pee monsters. Never felt more like a parent. Suddenly all the residual depression was gone. First week one of them died of congenital defect. Devastated, but decided to gather myself up to tale care of the other one. For three weeks, my life revolved around him. I forgot everything else. Then he also dropped dead of the same malady as his sister. And it was all over. Little did I know life had a strange way of throwing up depression all over my face the moment I decided to swallow it all down for a change.
But I didnt let it deter me. A month later once I recuperated from my grief, I decided to foster two more puppies. Older ones this time. I needed a closure. I needed to feel like what its like to be a parent. Without the sorrow of losing a child. It was amazing. Crazy madness. They destroyed my furniture, bedding endless slippers. But so SO much love and affection. They went on ahead to a better foster where they will be better taken care of. I am still not ready to adopt again. I can't live with fear of loss which has been so deeply ingrained in me...
Well summers are here again. And nothing has really changed. I'm still lonely. I'm still cranky. I'm still quite fucked up. And I have no vaguest idea what I am doing with my goddamn life.
Well. There's one idea. If I can't get my shit together by the end of this year,I have no wish to drag it any further. My energy is depleting. There's no motivation or interest to replenish it. There's no joy. It has to come to an end. Before it gets painfully unbearable any further. I need to take a bow with grace.