Of (self) Love and other Demons: V Day Edition

So, it’s St. Valentine’s Day. A well SEO-ed blog could get me some audience I could preach my rants to (for a certain limited period of course). But what do I know about love?

Well, my current life has made the notion of “romantic love” some kind of “lesser mortal enemy” of mine. I think I have already ranted about how much my “well wishing”, “tough love” giving family members (especially the XX chromosome holder ones (in other words, FEMALES)) are trying to make me “settle down” and by that they mean marrying me off to some dude so I can live “happily ever after” (Fuck them (Not the dude, those ladies. They deserve all my rages for the abusive ways they choose to assert their opinions.)), the ways people around me are trying to control my life are devastating me in such a bad way that I am becoming more depressed and less productive each day (Yayy! I’ve started ranting and it isn’t even the second fucking paragraph!).

So, they are like, “We’re all in if you have a romantic interest! We’re no old fashioned conservative people.”

Sure, they aren’t. Why would they be? Emotionally torturing a woman in her mid twenties is totally not an old fashioned conservative thing to do. It is a rather great practice.

Sometimes I wish I could transfigure them all into bulls and hunt them like they do in Mithraism and bathe in their blood. That sounds graphic, but the emotional torture does its own pretty magic.

So, “finding romantic love” has become the only way to avoid a “forced marriage”. Ain’t life beautiful?

And when I think about the fact that they will cut me down into pieces if they knew the truth, it gets worse. I cannot even voice the truth here in fear of life. So, romantic love is a totally lost game for me right now.

And I am hardly someone who can relate to that. That makes me want to write about another kind of love. Self love anyone?

Well, I’m not saying that I don’t receive some love. Actually I do, and I am very grateful for that! Every time I opened up about my problems in public internet space, I have always received love and moral support from strangers whom I will probably never meet (even in social networks), I have received words of support and encouragement from people I look up to. Environment activists, musicians, my favorite authors and most importantly my friends. And occasionally and very rarely (it sounds rather ungrateful, but they need to take the blame for not understanding me even when I tried to communicate and they were adamant to rather hold on to the words and criticisms of “other people” around them) my parents. And also from my little brother. This dude is too young to understand my woes, but he is always there for me.

A human being (even the deranged ones like me) needs some love (no matter how hard I try to deny it) to survive. Not necessarily it has to come from a “romantic interest”. But some love is necessary. Even Voldemort had a strange variety of love, his love for power (well, yes, I know it’s unhealthy in so many levels, but a love is a love). And yes, I ship him with Bellatrix (even though it’s one sided ­čśŤ ). And most importantly, even Voldy the Moldy ┬áloved himself.

And so should I. I believe along with the love I receive from my friends, family and strangers – this self love that I’ve got for myself was (is) critical for my survival. I love myself. And it is so important, and I confess, it is a hard thing to do.

Especially if you are the person you never wanted to be. I never wanted to be a mess I am right now. According to the plan I had for myself when I enrolled in engineering bachelors, I should be doing my PhD right now and at this moment would be crying like a baby while working on my PhD materials and not writing this blog. But clearly I failed myself. And I hate myself for being such a stupid. I was defeated in the first round of “adulthood”!

But still, in the end of the day, I feel like I still have reasons to love myself. I still have something good inside me. A fire. An intention to rise from the ashes and do something productive and even if not like Barry Allen, then slowly working on the mistakes and achieving my goals past deadline.

Hey, this is my life! My ultimate deadlines to fulfill my jobs is the day when I am truly dead. I better cut myself some slacks and give a chance.

I better love myself. Like Hozier sang in Arsonist’s Lullaby. I should not kill┬áthe fire inside me. It’s important.

And no matter how hard it is for me to accept my mistakes, if I believe there is some good inside me. I must love myself. Because I deserve it.

So, here’s to love. All kinds of love. The couples, the families, the siblings, the strangers, the icons and idols, the pets and the nature – let’s celebrate the awesomeness of love with all of them. Even if some of them refuse to love you for who you are (well of course as long as you are not harming anyone by “being yourself”), ┬álet’s ignore their negativity and assimilate with the positive vibes the rest to diversify the wounds.

Well, this blog was really incoherent (ain’t that my style?). However, the bottom line is. Never stop loving yourself for the person you are. You might want to change yourself for better, when you truly feel like it. Either way, keep on loving yourself for who you are right now and the good things about yourself for the person who you were in past. Because charity begins at home. And you are your first home.

This one is for love. All kinds of it!

Parting Words (or are they?)

I must be really desperate to blog like this. I was getting ready for work, but I just could NOT.

The overwhelming urge of “not existing” is making me confused. I am angry, sad and perplexed. I just want to stop existing right now. I am so mad!

Granted that I have limitations. Granted that I am a huge procrastinator and deserve nothing good. But you must know, I am not okay. I cannot bring myself to do things because I am so winded up and I honestly don’t know how to unwind myself.

I probably deserve stuff like these. I probably deserve hurtful “tough love” from my parents the moment I wake up (late, because I cannot sleep at night). I probably don’t deserve a positive environment that will help me to have believe in myself and not think of impending failure before trying something big and drastic. I probably don’t deserve any of those.

So what can I do? I think I can do a heck lot of things other than crying like a water fountain and blogging about it. But that is what I am doing right now. Even penning down a suicide note would be more productive. Because I feel very strongly to kill myself.

I might as well kill myself, if I cannot defend my rights, if I cannot defend my dignity and if I cannot work hard enough to achieve things ┬áthat I want to achieve. Because if I can’t DO WHAT I WANT TO DO, I MIGHT AS WELL NOT EXIST. And being emotionally shattered and all the mental health issues are NO EXCUSES. I was not born with such privileges. Mental healthcare is NOT something that I was ever entitled to. Most women from my country are not. They are achieving what they want. And I am lagging behind. I better stop existing.

I’m not sad because nobody hears my voice. I have accepted that a long ago that my voice does not deserve to be heard. BUT I CANNOT ACCEPT THE FACT THAT I DID NOTHING FRUITFUL TO CHANGE IT.

I concede.

I’m going to work. But I don’t hope to come back. I don’t hope to accomplish my goals. I don’t hope to exist.

I could not do the things I wanted to do.

I could do nothing.

I am a failure. And I will take the blame with me.

Goodbye.