numb

The sky tonight was like wet paint splattered on canvas. The blues, the purples and the greens danced together in anticipation of the storm to come. The wind howled and the lightning cracked like a whip. I sat by my window watching the street outside. I wondered if I should open the window a bit.  Maybe the sting of the frosty air outside would make me feel human again. Maybe the storm-to-be would blow me away or blow me to pieces, anything to end this nothing that was me.

An image flashed through my mind: a razor glinting in the moonlight, cold steel against my wrists and blood rushing out of my veins, staining my jeans, staining the floor, seeping through the creaky wooden floor, seeping into the earth. My skin tingled and for a moment I felt like I could fly.

Death is lighter than feather, but duty on the other hand…My thoughts trailed off and I was numb again.

The first drops of rain started hitting the window pane with a soft pitter patter. I wanted to run outside. I wanted the water to soak through my clothes, soak through my skin and bones and into my soul. I wanted it to wash away the memory of his hands, his lips and his whispers of soft nothings in my ear. I wanted to scream or cry or rip out my hair. I wanted to jump out of my skin and be a bird in the sky. But I didn’t move, I just sat by my window staring at the street outside.

I looked on for maybe hours or maybe only a few minutes till Sam interrupted me. He gently kissed my cheek and sat down on the floor near my feet. His hair was sticking out every which way and his eyes were bleary from sleep. It was a lovely sight. He laid his head on my lap and I instinctively started running my fingers though his hair. It was soft as usual, a bit crunchy in some places from hair gel.

“You’re still awake,” he said, while drawing small patterns on my legs with his fingers.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I murmured.

Sam was silent for a while, just trailing small kisses on my thigh. We’ve been here so many times before. “Someday he won’t be able to hurt you anymore,” he finally said.

I didn’t have anything to say to that. So, I just continued play with his hair, scratching his scalp a bit because I knew that was his favorite.

“I wish you could sleep, baby,” he whispered, while turning around and placing kisses further up my thigh. I parted my legs a bit more to accommodate him. “I love you,” he murmured against my skin.

“And I love you,” I half sighed as his hands trailed across my body. I felt safe with Sam, safer than I can ever remember feeling. He was sweet and warm, like a fireplace in the winter. I was drowning and he was my anchor. He was the one thing in the world that made me feel and I wanted more.

We were on the floor, my white, cotton nightgown lay discarded beside me. Hands and lips wandered across my body, caressing, worshipping. He took a nipple into his mouth, while his hands nudged my thighs apart. His fingers lightly stroked my clit and I could feel myself clenching in pleasure.

“Please…” I moaned. Sam looked up at me, his eyes hooded with desire, and he was inside me in one swift motion. He was big for me but I liked it. I liked how he filled me; I liked how I didn’t feel empty anymore. He moved in and out of me and the pleasure I felt was like warm honey coursing through my veins, pouring into the place where we were joined.

Half an hour later we lay sweaty and satisfied on the floor. “I’ll take care of you,” Sam murmured into my hair.

“I know,” I said, as the numbness started to seep back in.

school work

Sometimes I’m really inspired to write and sometimes I’m not. But writing everyday is something that I should do. It helps keep my mind uncluttered. I have a final tonight and two finals tomorrow. Its possible for me to get A’s in 2 of my classes, but I’m barely getting a B in the other (physics). I was so good at physics in high school and I’m generally good at whatever I put my mind to. I just don’t know what’s going wrong with physics. Its frustrating. But it’s also helping to get me down from my intellectual high horse. I’m not actually good at everything I put effort into. Its a huge relief in a way. It limits my options. I can’t go to engineering school because I suck at physics! Its one less thing to think about when I’m trying to plan my future.

I’m thinking of going to law school. I’m trying to sort out the details of entering the Pre-Law program at my college but it shouldn’t be a problem.

just a child

Sometimes I wonder if depression is even my problem. We were studying entropy today and I wonder if my mind is just chaos most of the time with random bursts of lucidity. Tonight is one of my more sane nights. I’m looking at life and its in shambles. I take responsibility for nothing. I close my eyes and hope all my problems will go away. I mess up and I feel secure in the knowledge that my parents or other people will clean it up for me. I feel entitled to this safety net. I’m going to be 22 but I’m still just a child. I can’t stop mourning an adolescence that I can never bring back. I feel entitled to be able to have it. I feel entitled to those carefree teenage years free of abuse, torture and rape. Trying to accept that they won’t come back, that I just have to live without them and just start afresh as an adult makes me bitter.

I can’t stay on this path of trying to create the childhood I didn’t have. Its not possible, it won’t ever happen. I’ll just be stuck in a futile struggle for a small piece of my life and loose ever experiencing the rest of it. Life dealt me some really bad cards, but its either swim or drown.

suicide

Would I really do it? Sometimes its too hard to bear. I wish I’d meet someone I can trust with all my heart. Someone who wouldn’t kick me out of his room after having sex with me. Someone who wouldn’t ignore me whenever he had free time. I fell in love with someone completely different. Or maybe he was just different cause it was new love and he had something to prove. I’m old news now. He doesn’t have to treat me right anymore because he already has my heart. That’s what men do right? Win your heart only to crush it. Why am I so gullible? I should’ve been strong. I shouldn’t have been so easy to get. Now I can never take it back.

Its not even like that. Its easier to think men are evil than to admit that he’s fallen out of love with me. I couldn’t hold his heart and that’s just how it is. He’ll really fall in love and marry some beautiful, amazing girl and I’ll still be seeing a shrink and taking pills just to get out of bed in the morning. How could I even fool myself into thinking this would work. I’m so delusional sometimes. I need to guard my heart better.

If there was a God he would’ve raped me and killed me. That way I wouldn’t live like an emotional cripple forever. I should just finish what he started. It would at least be more dignified than being incapable of normal life.

delayed gratification II

Even though I’ve only read around 50 pages of “The Road Less Travelled” by M.Scott Peck, M.D., I already see positive changes in my life. As I mentioned in my last post, not being able to delay gratification is a huge problem. Its the source of a lot of anxiety for me, because I procrastinate and the things that I’m procrastinating are always at the back of mind. I wait and wait till even the last minute has past and I’m woefully late for whatever it is I’m supposed to do. After starting to read this book I am much more aware of when and how I do this everyday regarding so many things.

I haven’t been filling in my timesheets for work. I haven’t done it all term, now I have a tonne of tutoring sheets and time sheets to fill out. I also had to apologize to the people to tutoring services for being a huge slob. (I even wanted to put of apologizing but I realized what I was doing and made myself write the email that I needed to). I’ve also been planning on sending back my blackberry storm was ages (the mic on it doesn’t work). I’ve been putting off more than a month. But now I feel a bit short on cash and the refund would be nice. But I’ve still been trying to put it off. I have to delete the contact information on it and I’ve been putting it off. I couldn’t find the box in which it came and I was putting off finding it. They are all little things, I just need to put in a little time and effort to do it. But I put it off. Why? Its not like it makes me happy. It makes me anxious knowing I have all these things to do.

But no more. I charged my blackberry and will delete all the necessary things. I found the box to. I’m going to walk straight up to the mailing room and and ship this off asap. I will also actually let OEM Shop know that I have done so (they’ve only been helpful throughout). Even though I have to put in some time and effort I know I will feel much better when I’ve done all this.

delayed gratification

I saw a psychiatrist yesterday. He put me on some medication for insomnia that have yet to do anything. I took a pill half an hour ago and I’m still as awake as ever. When I used to take them before they’d knock me out in a couple of minutes or at least make it impossible to keep my eyes open without having mild hallucination (ambien oh yeaah!). Perhaps I’m too anxious now, who knows. I don’t even feel anxious per se. Just active, a bit hyper, too alert, like a string pulled taught. Isn’t that what PTSD patients are like 24/7? Hyper vigil, like a cat either ready to pounce or tuck it’s tail and run. I notice too many things about the people I’m with, subtle hints, too many. I read into them too much, make myself paranoid. I need to more relaxed during social interactions, try less hard to impress. Maybe just talk less, ask more questions, share less. Just be comfortable. The rest will come,

Social Phobia can’t fine me if I no longer feel self conscious about my inability to sing and dace. Once I master them, I will be free, I won’t be scared anymore. My phobia is that other people aren’t liking me, but I’m only so paranoid ad obsessed with it because I don’t like myself. I judge myself for not being able to sing and dance, for not being a free sufi spirit. I have a list of everything I hate about myself and I shove it into everyone else’s- this is what you need to not like about me as well.

I’ve been resentful in the past of how I was brought up. I’ve also be resentful of other people, why don’t they help me more. But it needs to stop. No on can help me , not in this way. This is just between me and me. The things that I don;t like about myself, lets sit with then, make plans about how to fix them and and just do them.

anxiety

Real life is too much for me to deal with so I watch things, read things, all to just push away the moment when I’ll have to buckle up and just do the things I gotta do. Once I start doing them its not so bad, I even have fun. But its starting that’s the problem. Its so hard to get there, just thinking about things I have to do make me anxious, its a paralyzing anxiety that I have to escape at all costs. Why is thinking about life so scary? Perhaps its because when I think about it the things that I do have to be coherent but more than that, life must have a purpose and I have to be acting to optimize that purpose. This is , of course, completely unrealistic since I have no set purpose or goal in life and I can’t find one. I want to see what life brings me. And I’m too anxious to finish this right now, I have to lie down and block it all out.

love letter II

I don’t know how I’ll ever sleep again. Ever since you told me it’s all I see when I close my eyes. The thoughts don’t stop no matter how hard I try, they don’t stop. And I tell myself, I only have to imagine it, you actually had to live it, it actually happened. Its not just a nightmare for you. He tied your hands and your legs apart and he trailed his grubby fingers down your lovely body. I can see him squeezing one perfect breast and then the next. I can see you wincing away, I can hear you begging him to stop. I want to kill him but that thought doesn’t block out the images. I see him popping a nipple into this mouth and I can see you struggling with your bonds. You don’t want him to touch you like this, you’ve never been with a man before. You tell him so, you appeal to his humanity, but you don’t understand that your purity, your innocence makes it so much better for him.

I see him putting his fingers in you and I want to claw out my eyes. I can hear you crying and screaming and struggling and I can see his erection pressed against your thighs. I feel the horror that coursed through your veins when he started taking off his pants. You knew there was nothing you could do, nothing at all, but you struggled anyway, I know you did. I see him forcing himself into you, through your dry, virginal body and I want to kill him. I know it wasn’t a swift motion, he was a virgin too so he fumbled it. He tried pulling your vagina open with his fingers to make it easier for him to enter. I know you stopped screaming after a while. You stopped praying after a while too.

I hope you can pray again someday. I don’t really care to whom or what, but you’ve lost faith in everything. You’re wandering, drifting, like a broken piece of wood. I want to love you, I want to love you as gently as possible. I want to lay you on a bed of roses and trail kisses all over your body. I want to hold you and caress you and let you talk to me for hours. I want you to tell me everything he did to you, I want you to show me everywhere he hurt you. I want to give you kisses everywhere he hit you, everwhere he bit you, everywhere he touched you without your consent. I want to go down on you and kiss and lick and suck every inch of your gorgeous pussy. That’s where you were hurt the most, I want to help you forget the pain. I want to help you understand again that that is a sacred place, some place to be worshipped, not plundered and violated.

I love you so much. I think you’d cry after we made love, if it really touched you in any meaningful way, you’d cry. I’d hold you for as long as you’d like, I’d stroke your hair and just listen to your heartbeat.

expectations

Dramatic things have been happening in my life. They’ve pushed me in to a more depressive state than I’d perhaps fall in to otherwise. I need help sleeping during the night, I need help to stop sleeping during the day. I’m so exhausted when the sun is up. I’m so exhausted by the thought of meeting expectations. I can’t get up in the morning and shower and eat, because none of those are accomplishments, they are regular everyday things that everyone does – they are (justifiably) expected. But I am incapable of meeting expectations.

I’ve been so homesick recently, I’ve been listening to bengali music and Nazrul Islam poem recitations. I wish I could sing. I want to learn how to sing in my mother tongue. I never felt attatched to Bengali before, but recently, I feel a tug in a my heart when I hear it. The blood rushes in my veins when I hear Bengali songs.

I need to be free. I need to discover myself and create myself simultaneously.I need to sing and dance and be free.

alone

Something’s wrong when the thought of death is the only thing that gives you peace. I think it’s time to be alone for a while, for real, without the pretenses of not being alone. I can’t talk to my boyfriend about what’s going on right now. I don’t understand it, I can’t help it and I’m tired of feeling guilty about it. I’m tired. He’s great and I know he loves me but having a witness to my vulnerability only makes it worse. Sometimes it makes it better, in the past it has. But not now, I need alone time now. Or I need to be with someone who understands. Perhaps there’s someone else out there, but we’ll probably never meet.