love

Would you hold my hand..if I saw you in heaven? I’ll find my way through night & day..beyond the door, there’s peace I’m sure: A Love Letter

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Today’s Mood Ingredients: Angry, Heartbroken, Lost, Relieved.

True Life: I Don’t Process Grief. I pretend nothing ever happened & run to take care of the person who may have been affected the most, and then one day, I feel personally victimized by the Regina Georges of the Kübler-Ross Model & explode all over my nearests & dearests. Here is a hopeful attempt at not having that happen this time around..mostly thanks to my “baby” brother’s influence. “Just write it out”..the Shiv Vaishnav version of UNK. This isn’t for clicks, likes, or shares. This is for my family..& for all of my hearts that are hurting right now as much as I am.

My Ba’s (grandma) letters were legendary. Coveted hot commodities that the whole family would earnestly hope to receive when there happened to be a big event in their lives. The only reason I have ever thought of rushing to get married was so that I could get one of those handwritten scrolls of love, advice, and strength from my best girl. Now, she’s gone..& it’s time that I wrote a love letter to her instead.

Dear Ba aka My Miss Universe,

I’m mad at you. You weren’t supposed to leave me..ever. The educated part of me seems to have disappeared because all I can think of is that you were supposed to be way past chronological aging and live longer than even me. Back to back strokes at 88 and you were up and writing and walking and feeding your crows. Triple hip fracture surgery at 92 and off you were strolling around Gamdevi like you were still 80. You spoiled us; I selfishly thought you were indestructible & that no one would dare take you away from me. 100 was so close & I had already planned everything we would do together for that big day 6 years from now. And then you left more than 6 years too early. And then you left without me. And I’m mad at you.

Married nearly pre-pubescent in a time where women were uneducated, timid, and there solely for procreation, you did more than give birth to 6 children. You taught those children the importance of character, dignity, self-respect, & especially a sense of humor. You taught them the difference between truth and falsities, you gave them principles, you taught them empathy, you showed them how to live with honor. You educated those children, you disciplined those children, you taught them how to be open-minded and open-armed to one and all, and you gave those children unconditional love that I’m sure I’ve seen in every mother, but just somehow not like your special magical kind. And those children have passed along the priceless lessons to theirs and those kids to theirs and so on. You have a strength and a will power I have never seen in my entire life and I’ve been blessed this whole time to be able to feel it and witness it and have pride in it. And I’m mad at you.

You taught me how to not be afraid of fear. You taught me that a woman could do anything with the iron will that you made so infamous in our world. You showed me that tenacity and a pure heart are all you need to get through this life. You made me see that action is greater than intention. You expressed the unbreakable bond between a mother and her daughter and gave me the gift of having that particular relationship with both you and my own momma. You showed me that freedom of speech is more than okay, that it is necessary in this life. You allowed me to see that respect is earned by the life you live and the unselfish deeds you do. And I’m mad at you.

You sang to me more sweetly and with more talent than Lata Mangeshkar ever could. You held my hand when I slept next to you in a single room with a ceiling fan; you being willing to turn on the AC for me even though you knew you’d need extra chaadars (sheets) for yourself. You stood over a hot stove at odd hours because your grandkids wanted only your thepla, no one else’s. You gave me a miniature Hanuman Chalisa because I told you I was suddenly afraid of flying but I’d do anything to traverse the 10,000 miles to see you & to this day, when I’m on a plane I pretend that Hanumanji is holding the plane up & leading it safely to its destination. You told me that marriage isn’t the be-all and end-all because in the words of Beyoncé, “All the women who independent throw ya hands up at me.” (you said that part a little differently than I wrote it just now).  You also told me that I deserve love because I have the capacity to give love..and that’s all you really need (that, and a non-ass significant other). 😛 You tried to read the English headlines of The Times of India while I tried to read the Gujarati headlines of Garvi Gujarat and we both succeeded because we are both stubborn and persistent and obsessed with learning new things. You made sure you lit the deevo (lamp) every time I left Bombay for protection and for safe travels. You knowingly let me walk into a flying cockroach because you thought it would be the most hilarious thing, and it was..to you. And I can still hear that jingly giggle as you watched 17-year old me flail about in abject terror, you mischievous child in a geriatric body. You let me play in your saris..the one I still sleep with..the one I made sure always stayed with your fragrance still lingering within the threads of the feather-light fabric. The sari that used to comfort me for the past decade & a half..the same one that now half-comforts me and half-tortures me as of this week. And I’m still mad at you.

I feel like Voldemort. Like my soul has been torn into multiple pieces, but without the darkness or the whole immortality situation..& definitely not on purpose. You always had blind faith in your Kanha that he would lead you where you needed to be and where you would be peaceful..& you left me and mom during Ganeshotsav..so I’m kinda mad at Them all right now too, for tainting mom’s favorite time of the year. But I must get by and “move on”..at least that’s what they tell me. I think what I’m going to do instead is just listen to your voice in my head over the past 3 & a half decades..& be confident and safe in the fact that you will lead me to the place of acceptance without the anger or bitterness of losing one of my best friends in this universe. I’m a little less mad at you.

You loved me like I love you..limitless-ly, abundantly, inimitably. You have finally been granted your last wish over the past few years..to be yourself again; free, independent, strong, and angelic. Your legacy is something that will last long after my own last breath because all of your 6 children, 14 grandchildren, and 18 great-grandchildren and so on will make sure that no one in any lifetime forgets Ramaben Chimanlal Gandhi, and more than that, no one will ever tarnish this future lifeline that you have built. I miss you more than I can express in any possible medium, and your Krishna only knows when I will be able to return to Bombay again, let alone to your home and your room. But all I can give you now is this..

I love you immensely, Miss Universe. In this and every other life..past, present, & future. And..

I could never be mad at you.

Love,

Siddhi

Today’s Wisdom: “No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. At other times it feels like being mildly drunk, or concussed. There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world & me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says. Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in. It is so uninteresting. Yet I want the others to be about me. I dread the moments when the house is empty. If only they would talk to one another & not to me.” -C.S. Lewis

Today’s Interlude:

 

 

 

Today’s Feelings…

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“Be silent and listen: Have you recognized your madness and do you admit it? Have you noticed that all your foundations are completely mired in madness? Do you not want to recognize your madness and welcome it in a friendly manner? You wanted to accept everything. So accept madness too. Let the light of you madness shine, and it will suddenly dawn on you. Madness is not to be despised and not to be feared, but instead you should give it life. If you want to find paths, you should also not spurn madness, since it makes up such a great part of your nature. Be glad that you can recognize it, for you will thus avoid becoming its victim.
 
Madness is a special form of the spirit and clings to all teachings and philosophies, but even more to daily life, since life itself is full of craziness and at bottom utterly illogical. Man strives toward reason only so that he can make rules for himself. Life itself has no rules. That is its mystery and its unknown law. What you call knowledge is an attempt to impose something comprehensible on life.“
-C.G. Jung, The Red Book: A Reader’s Edition

Today’s Feelings..

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I have had this up on my wall in every room I have ever lived in, from home to college dorm to medical school housing, serving as an important source of wisdom for the past 18 years. Thank you for your skill of pen & strength of woman, Dr. Angelou. Rest in Peace.

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 “I’ve learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, & it will be better tomorrow.

I’ve learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, & tangled Christmas tree lights.

I’ve learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you’ll miss them when they’re gone from your life.

I’ve learned that making a “living” is not the same thing as making a “life.”

I’ve learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance.

I’ve learned that you shouldn’t go through life with a catcher’s mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw something back.

I’ve learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision.

I’ve learned that even when I have pains, I don’t have to be one.

I’ve learned that every day you should reach out & touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back.

I’ve learned that I still have a lot to learn.

 I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

 -Dr. Maya Angelou-

(April 4, 1928 – May 28, 2014)

Today’s Feelings..

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An all time favorite..dare to do unimaginable things.

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      It is not the critic who counts; nor the one who points out how the strong person stumbled, or where the doer of a deed could have done better.

      The credit belongs to the person who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; who does actually strive to do deeds; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotion, spends oneself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at worst, if he or she fails, at least fails while daring greatly.

     Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs even though checkered by failure, than to rank with those timid spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much because they live in the gray twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat.

-Theodore “Teddy” Roosevelt-

 

 

“The Attitude of Gratitude”: A Phrase I Hate, A Feeling I Appreciate

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piglet_gratitude Today’s Mood Ingredients: Contemplative, Introspective, Grateful. Hi! It’s been a while. Life suddenly leaped out at me & bit me in the rear. However, in the time that pretty much everything was happening all at once, I did realize a few things. I live a pretty good life. It’s not perfect by any means (& obviously no one’s lives are), it’s absurdly stressful, I’m ridiculously worried 20/7 (which is a spectacular upwards movement from 26/7, congrats to me), I want to do 9 million things with the time to do only 30, and I get frustrated that all of the above is occurring. I do, however, have working (albeit mildly arthritic-sadly, not a joke) legs, mobile arms (wing span situation notwithstanding), a functioning brain (up for debate), and a plenitude of opportunity (which I abashedly admit to not taking advantage of enough).

Ok, so don’t close this blog yet! I promise it’s not a preachy post on how we should all be thankful for what we have (even though we should) & how what we have in this life is enough (even though it is). This is a post about how I realized that the words “average” & “normal” have two different meanings and depths with respect to my life. I was always the person who would get incredibly annoyed when people would tell me to think of those less fortunate than me when I was having a bad day. I mean..I am aware that there are people who have no food & no water & no families, & no one feels for them more than me & my over-empathetic self does, but sometimes, I just wanted to wallow in my own misery. COULD I LIVE!? Over time though, I realized that as much as my most terrifying fear was to be “normal” or “average” in the achievement sense, I have never been more grateful to be “average” & “normal” in the life sense. I have an immediate family of 11 that loves me unconditionally & whom I love obsessively back. I have amazing friends who have seen me through some morose times and some euphoric times. I have my health, my family (even through everything as of late) has theirs, we have a roof over our heads, we have food on our tables, and although we are wanting in many other ways, the most important thing is that we have a support system that people would literally kill for (seriously, they’ve creepily told me so). So although I want my business to succeed more, my dreams to be fulfilled more, my worries to be calmed more..I’m truly grateful that on my way to hopefully being able to realize all of those things, I have the ability and the resources that allow me to excel..& all I have to put in is the work.

If you follow this blog, you’ve heard me say this plenty of times, & I’m clearly still going through some form of PTSD from it, but I will never ever be more grateful to whomever, wherever, whatever, that my parents are still with me. To have my greatest fear nearly realized within a short span of 7 months, & to have us all restored to an almost normal (for us, anyway) level is something that I will never be able to express enough thanks for. And for better or for worse, that heavy emotional trauma was the catalyst for me to realize that I have enough. In fact, I have a lot.  In fact, I have the most.  I know I said this wouldn’t be a preachy post, but honestly, I just wanted you to keep reading because if a self-admitted, everyone-proclaimed pessimistic wallower can find a way to revel in all that she has, you guys can do it eeeaaasily! The point is, sometimes, shit is gonna suck. A lot. And sometimes, things are going to be so amazing, you can’t imagine them getting any better..& then they do. But if you want to get through the roller coaster labrynth & come out unscathed on the other side, find ways to be appreciative of the things you have, and even of the things that you don’t. A new perspective never hurt anybody!

**For those who want some ideas on how to get the ball rolling, check out these two links below which have helped me become less of a negative person.

8 Things To Remember When Everything Is Going Wrong

100 Happy Days

Today’s Interlude: Grateful by John Bucchino performed by Stephen Carr

Today’s Feelings..

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Today’s feelings..

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“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband & a happy home & children, & another fig was a famous poet & another fig was a brilliant professor, & another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, & another fig was Europe & Africa & South America, & another fig was Constantin & Socrates & Attila & a pack of other lovers with queer names & offbeat professions, & another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, & beyond & above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each & every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle & go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.” 

-Sylvia Plath-

What Is Love? Baby, Don’t Hurt Me: Re-Learning Romantic Love

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      ImageToday’s Mood Ingredients: Fearful, Hopeful, Independent, Open.

I’ve been single for 7 years. SEVEN. I haven’t been lonely for any of them, & it’s not for lack of interested parties or for lack of halfhearted attempts. I always figured I was single for this long because I was making a lot of changes in my life, switching careers, getting life in order, reconnecting with friends, etc. It was only a few months ago (apparently I’m slow on the uptake) that I realized the real reason why I’m single & never ready to mingle. Fear. It’s not a fear of commitment because I’m the most freakishly committed girlfriend you could ever have. Definitely not a fear of monogamy because cheaters makes me homicidal (in a good way?). Somehow, unbeknownst to me, I’ve developed a fear of intimacy (of all kinds) & a fear of loss of freedom. So, as a 32 year old woman who likes relationships & wants children, how do I make this work? Obviously by making my fears public to the world, thereby forcing me to make changes..or at least start by writing about making changes (everything’s a process, guys).

For whatever reason (exes, circumstances, experiences), over the years I’ve begun shying away from emotional & physical contact with people who may be potential mates. I don’t feel like re-telling my life story on a date (I mean, how many times can you go over your own life? I literally started boring myself), I run away like Phoebe Buffay in Central Park (you so remember that episode) at the first sign of someone trying to hold my hand or anything remotely physical (my aversion to PDAs are a long-standing thing so this isn’t really so surprising, but I suppose to recoil from a hand like it’s a mutant tarantula is a little much). Past relationships haven’t turned out for the best for a variety of reasons (infidelities-them, overanalysis/need to prove myself correct when Sherlocking the aforementioned infidelities-me, insecurities-us); & though I’m civil/friends with those little culprits now (which is something fabulous that I think everyone should do if feasible, because it removes a LOT..not all, but still..of emotional cargo & has lightened the load in my life significantly), they clearly impacted the relationship issues I face now. Currently, the thought of a boyfriend makes me break out into hives because I think of all of the weekends/evenings that would have to go into dinners and family meetings at some point and struggling to find my alone time which I so treasure right now. I worry that all of the grandiose dreams I have for myself & my life will end up playing second fiddle to my relationship & at my age, the problem (supposedly) is that I don’t have the luxury of time to delay either my life’s goal or my relationship future. 

So, how does a person re-learn romantic love? I mean, I don’t have to start all over in the general love department because I love my friends in the adore kinda way & I love my family in the obsessed/don’t mess with them/they can never leave me kinda way (that’s an unhealthiness best explained in another post) & I love my dog in the you’re the best thing with 4 legs and a tongue ever created kinda way. But how do you re-learn the I’m-in-love-with-you-you’re-really-attractive-let’s-hang-out-a-lot-and-maybe-make-out kind of love? Trial and error. Perhaps being less cocooned will help, perhaps letting my guard down (SLOWLY) will help people to believe that I’m not, in fact, some intimidating unfeeling ice queen, but rather a vulnerable person with concerns and fears and aspirations and dreams. I’ve also learned that taking all of the pressures coming from other people around me & placing them on myself and the people I meet is not about to help make me open and available, it basically just overwhelms & drives you into a scared turtle state. I’ve also realized that though I have standards, and I refuse to compromise on some of them because I am well aware of what type of individual and what type of relationship I deserve, that some of them may be impossible for anyone to meet & maybe that’s the sole reason why I put them there; so I can say, “Oh well, you don’t meet this requirement of being a chest hair-less dancer who chews with his mouth closed and is sarcastic and doesn’t have a certain last name” & consequently not have to get to know those who don’t fit those standards. I suppose these “realizations” or epiphanies or whatever you want to call them are the first step to moving towards a life that I’m actually willing to share with someone else outside of my carefully & meticulously maintained world of weirdos. That, combined with a strange cocktail of minor narcissism/obsession with genetics/hyper-maternal instinct that makes me want to see more little me’s in the world, will hopefully be the propellors that catapult me into the arena of companionship and romantical love & stabilize me there while allowing me to revel with my own individual identity intact.

There’s no definitive answer on how to feel romantic love again, but there are definitive methods to the madness, and at this moment in time, in the melodic words of Alicia Keys, if you ask me, I’m ready.

Today’s Interlude(s): “Back In The High Life Again,” by Steve Winwood & “Not A Bad Thing” by Justin Timberlake

Mindy, Mindy, Mindy, Can’t You See? Sometimes Your Words Just Hypnotize Me: The Difference Between An Admirer & A Creeper

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Today’s Mood Ingredients: Excited, Admiring, Awed, BFF-y.

If you know me, you know I love her. Like, LOVEEE her. I’m not a person who gets starstruck or flustered when meeting celebrities, ever, but when I recently had the chance to meet writer/director/actor/producer/fashionista/hottie Mindy Kaling, albeit for a brief 12 second span where I gave her Easter candy in a hot pink bag, my body apparently knew something my brain wasn’t caught up on because I was shaking like a Californian in an Alaskan winter & it wasn’t because of the 50 mph gusts of wind outside.

People who follow me on social media are well aware of my adoration for her & they’ve asked me time & time again why she’s so awesome to me. There is a plenitude of reasons that we love or admire celebrities. Most of the time it’s their body of work & talent or because of whatever persona they (or their PR team) decide to show us, & since we’ll most likely never meet them, that’s how it stays. With Mindy (& I have a huge list of people who share my sentiment), it’s much more. It’s easy to pick her as the South Asian role model for women & entertainers and very easy to pick her as the spokesperson for every “Brown” person out there, but that’s actually last on my list of why I am awed by her in a non-creeper way. If you’ve read her book, “Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? And Other Concerns,” you’ll know what I mean (& if you haven’t read it, get on it ASAP. It’s a New York Times Bestseller & unless you’re a Jetsons-esque robot [but even Rosie had emotions], you’ll laugh until you ugly cry. I’ve read it 3 times, taking something new away from it every time, & highlighted about 80% of it). Mindy weaves humor & emotion seamlessly while telling her stories of being bullied about her weight, her childhood fears, unapologetically loving comedy early on in life, her botched Broadway audition, living in a shoebox apartment with her 2 best friends, her dating game, and so on. As she tells her stories, I don’t know if she realizes it or not, she connects with so many of us on a personal level. It’s easy to want to put those days behind you (& easily be able to) when you’re at nearly 3 million Twitter followers, over half a million Instagram followers, & being the star & show runner of your own network TV show, but the greatest thing about her is that she owns it & embraces it all. She’s never hidden from her roots or her history and that’s what makes her accessible to & adored by so many of us (her talent and hilarity help too, obv).

I have many celebrities I love, but I’ve never felt connected to them on a personal level like I do with Mindy Kaling. Perhaps it’s that we’re close in age, perhaps it’s that she is fiercely loyal in her close relationships & friendships, perhaps it’s that her greatest strength & love is the relationship she has (yes, present tense) with her mother, perhaps it’s that we’re both fashion freaks (her Instagram feed is to die for!), perhaps it’s that we had a similar childhood, & perhaps it’s just that she’s someone I aspire to be like; inspired, driven, sarcastic with a childlike exuberance but an iron work ethic. She’s a brilliant writer, an Ivy-League graduate, & has humorous self-deprecation down to a science. Someone somewhere (or at least definitely on Twitter) says that they wish they were Mindy Kaling’s BFF every day. And though I admit to having said that, I’m happy I’m not. Wait, what? Yes, I’m happy I’m not her BFF because I have my own group of BFFs (“it’s not a person, it’s a tier, Danny!”) who have been there for me through all of the winding roads of life & I love that she still has her core group of homies from college (& of course, BJ Novak from The Office) who have been there for her for the same. Don’t get me wrong though, had it been 2002 & I met Mindy & her friends (which was SO FEASIBLE since I was watching all of the Bombay Dreams auditions in real life & wish I’d gotten to know her when she auditioned!), I’d totally try & hang out with them.

For someone who has high aspirations for making it as not only a woman, but a person in this world, I can think of no one better to look to as a guide. She didn’t glide up on a who-knows-who method & she doesn’t rest on her laurels. She worked her ass off & had conviction in her work, her intellect, her talent, & herself and that’s something I sometimes forget to do for myself. She’s constantly striving (look at me, weirdly talking about her as though I know her personally..here is that line between admirer & creeper, you guys..I’m toeing it :P) to better herself & hone her skills, but doesn’t seem to beat the shit out of herself if something falls short. And for all of the times that people come down on her for not being the token South Asian who apparently should be shouldering all of our historical burdens, a quote from Elle Magazine says it best, “She doesn’t rely on being Indian, but doesn’t deny it either.” That’s an amazing thing, especially in Hollywood! This is 2014. Be proud that a “f***ing Indian woman [has] her own f***ing show!” A network television show. That, for once, doesn’t stereotype an Indian woman (or man, for that matter) as an accent-harboring, oily haired nerd searching long & hard for an arranged marriage that will make the family happy all the while toiling away at a profession they hate. And for those who say, “Yeah, but she still plays a doctor! How Brown.” Yes, she plays an OB-GYN as an homage to her late mother’s profession, not because of the Indian generalization associated with it. Mindy’s created a show for us single 30-something women that shows the real, if sometimes exaggerated, colors of dating & working (especially for us New Yorkers). I have known people my whole life who, despite being Indian, have only dated non-Indian people. It’s not Mindy’s job to make sure that every South Asian actor has a job, or to make sure that Dr. Mindy Lahiri dates South Asian men just because she is South Asian. That’s a reality that people really need to get on board with. Her job was to create a show that is funny, that people will enjoy, & that she’s proud of, and in that, she has succeeded tenfold.

I think I may have been happier than Mindy Kaling & the cast and crew themselves when The Mindy Project was renewed (early) for a season 3. The show is my happy place. It’s found its groove (even though I personally have loved every episode since the pilot) & there are times you have to watch it twice to catch one-liners you may have missed because you were too busy laughing at something else that just happened. It makes me literally LOL (which only Friends & Gilmore Girls have done) with its quick witted dialogue, pop culture references, equally intelligent and silly humor, & incredibly individual characters; and to know that Mindy’s in charge of it all (with a great team, of course) just makes me wax poetic about her even more. I have been having quite a few shitty days lately & I’ll be damned if Morgan Tookers’ innocent creepiness or Danny Castellano’s curmudgeon-y behavior (red grandma glasses intact) or Mindy Lahiri’s insecure self-confidence don’t give me at least that full 21 minutes of reprieve from real life. If you haven’t given it a chance yet, I suggest you spend the next 9.5 hours watching season 1 & season 2 on YouTube in order to prep for the one hour return tonight at 9PM on FOX. I know I’m going to be sipping on strawberry ale in my TMP cup saying “HOW DARE YOU!?” to anyone that attempts to disturb my cloud 9 of comedy.

P.S. Mindy, if you ever end up reading this, I’m just kidding about the BFF thing. I love my tier, but I’m totally available, so call me! “Winky face.” 😉

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Today’s Interlude: The Mindy Project Theme Song

 

Thank You For Bein’ A Friend, Travelin’ Down The Road & Back Again: Long vs. Lost Friendships

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Today’s Mood Ingredients: Nostalgic, Understanding, Reflective.

We all have friends (this is a relatively secure assumption). We’ve made them over different times in our lives, on numerous journeys, at various ages. But how many of you still have them all? I know I don’t. Friendship is a funny thing in general. I mean, how do groups of people find each other & forge a bond that’s strong enough that makes them want to spend time together over & over again? I find myself wondering that all the time when I see people on the train or at restaurants or elsewhere; how did you all meet, where did you find each other, how did you connect? (Yes, I realize this makes me sound like a creeper, but I’m owning it, people.) Nevertheless, it happens & you go through life with these people who you’re connected to and when you’re young, you’re all BFFLS & BFFAES and when you’re in high school, you’re all about the cool kids & who’s wearing what to the pep rally if not a cheerleader uniform (btw, none of those were me because I was a bony little nerd, a fact I have finally accepted later in life). College comes around and you find like minded individuals with similar interests and passions (read: freedom & drinking, meant: poetry, dance, film, science). Real life finds you meeting people who are settling down, accepting responsibility, becoming “grown ups.” Now look back on all of those times in your life; how many of those BFFs are still around? 

If you’re like me, you have numerous & varied circles of friends. If you’re like me, you also have had incidences & circumstances which rendered much change in those groups & relationships. I can honestly say I vividly remember & still keep in touch with many of my friends from elementary school through college (thanks, Mark Zuckerberg!). Are we close? No. But our lives are interwoven with fond memories of becoming adults, and now, social media milestones that still allow a thread of a connection both to each other & to our common pasts. 

Unfortunately, time plays its part as do the growth and change of personalities & the people who have them. There are so many friends that cross my mind on a regular basis who I don’t think I’ve spoken to in months, & in some cases, years. So many of the girls from my college dance troupe who have witnessed many of my most catalytic moments, I don’t talk to much anymore, & this is after forming a close bond over 4-5 years of all night practices, 5 hour lunches, open bars, parties, performances, travel, tears, fears, laughter, girl talk, boy talk, & sleepovers. I admire them still & stalk lives via social media, but it’s a tentative connection, albeit based on true love for them. I can still say, however, when it so happens that we do meet, that core of friendship picks up quite quickly, & we will always be bound (in a non-criminal way) by the matching tattoo that 10 of us have depicting the passion that brought us together; dance. Medical school was a whole other story. We all became “family” very quickly (admittedly, due to me trying to make the best of an intimidating situation for all of us) and when you’re stuck on a tiny little island for 16 months (or more), studying instead of going to lay by the crystal clear turquoise waters that are right below your balcony, you become realllly close reallllly fast and things can get pretty dramatic pretty fast too. But what happens when you are back to reality (oops, there goes gravity..jk) and seeing your old pre-island friends and trying to readjust to non-island life? Some things can fall apart, and some things stay glued together. In my case, I was lucky to be able to hold on to some very true & real friendships with people who, although I’ve only really known for 7 years at this point, are some of the closest confidantes I have. They may not all be very good friends with each other, but they are very good friends to me, and that is probably the one thing I came away with from Caribbean Med that I treasure the most. Unfortunately, there are also some people who I was unable to stay connected to & although that gives me little pangs now & again, there is clarity in hindsight, and the reason for the disconnect was always valid.

At the end of the day, all of those little clichés about people coming in & out of your life whether for you to change them in some way or for them to change you (for better or worse) ring loud, ring clear, & ring true. I’ve had friends who have made me less trusting, friends who have made me more hopeful, friends who have made me more perceptive, friends who have made me more suspicious, friends who have made me brighter, and friends who have dulled my luster. But for a brief moment in the timeline of our lives, we intersected, we connected, and we loved; and sometimes, that’s just plain good enough.

To all of my own lost connections, be they by chance, choice, or circumstance, know that I think of you often. When a certain song comes on or when I smell something familiar or especially when I’m pondering on the past (which I do more often than I’d prefer), I wonder what you all are up to and hope that you are happy & well. There will forever be people and places that will own a sliver of your memory and a part of your heart. And to borrow from John, George, Paul, & Ringo, all these places had their moments, with lovers & friends I still can recall. In my life, I loved them all. 

Today’s Interlude: “In My Life,” The Beatles

I Tried Carrying The Weight Of The World, But I Only Have Two Hands: The Agony of Anxiety

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Today’s Mood Ingredients: Worried, Stressed, Exhausted, ANXIOUS.

This is probably my most personal post yet & I’m hoping I actually hit “publish” before deleting the whole thing. I don’t know about you, but over the past decade or so, I’ve been hearing much more about “anxiety” than I ever have before, or maybe I’ve just gotten older and have had way more experience with it than I’d like. Most of us use the word “anxious” as a substitute for “nervous,” & although they have many overlaps, trust me when I say they’re completely different things. I was nervous before launching my own company, I am anxious all the time.

I’ve always been a relatively confident and logical human being. Yes, it’s possible that I’m more emotional than most & feel things very intensely, but I could always rationalize and understand situations without suddenly feeling like my world was crumbling. Over time however, I’ve realized that I started developing a real anxiety issue. I can attribute this to situations from my childhood & failed relationships & starting medical school and quitting medical school, and a plethora of other events that could cause anyone minor anxiety, but for me, it has ballooned into an unmanageable situation causing dysfunction and deflation. Add those events to the life of an already introverted, hyper self-aware, super-emotional, over-imaginative pessimist & there is only disaster.

Lately, I’ve started worrying about things that have only the most miniscule chance in hell of happening, but I worry about them constantly. My parents’ health woes took a huge toll on me & now I stalk them like a little creepy shadow daughter. The idea is that if I am always there with the people I worry about, then I can control the situation and in turn, the scary thing I fear will not occur. This is not logical because I have not yet been cloned (& I don’t think anyone who knows me would even allow that for the sake of their own sanity) & I obviously cannot be everywhere at once. This fact alone causes me great anguish because lack of control over something I feel deeply about is something that drives me completely nutty (currently, I’m only partially nutty). The lack of control over my negative thoughts (please see header image above..that’s literally me in cartoon form) sends me into an anxiety spiral that I usually need my inhaler to get out of. What’s also fun is that an anxiety attack can mimic symptoms of a heart attack & I usually end up sweating & short of breath, with chest pain & tingling limbs; a fantastic thing to watch in a notorious hypochondriac (someone should really take me on the road as a traveling one-woman emotional circus, might as well cash in on myself).

The problem with anxiety is that it’s sometimes overlooked & treated as though it’s a minor issue that an individual who suffers from it can get past by just changing their thoughts. “Just think positive! Control it! Count to 10!” Hello friends, if changing thoughts & inner processes were that simple, who out there wouldn’t be a perpetually happy, content, self-assured person!? I don’t even know that the worst-case scenario thought is coming before it’s already onto catastrophic proportions-case scenario! It’s an agonizing & literally physically and mentally exhausting condition when it gets too far (a la moi) & even more so when the individual refuses to ask for help and believes that they can sift through their irrational concerns on their own because that’s what they’ve always done (again, a la moi), because then there is an internal battle of why won’t this go away like it always has & will this get worse if I don’t explain it to someone else out there? I could go on & on about the stigma of such disorders that is out there, but honestly, you can just Google that and get more articulate & thorough information out there than I could provide for you. I’m not the biggest fan of therapy or drugs (I know that’s rich coming from an ex-medical student with a psychology major/sociology minor, but..sorry?), but it’s not because of any stigma. I’m an advocate of all of the above..for everyone else. I’m not a talker, I’m a thinker & the idea of having to go through my life story & delve into my past with someone who knows nothing about me is less comforting than it is terrifying. And the idea of them giving me a houseful of Xanax is even worse. But recently, even I have had to admit to the fact that something has to be done for me, & more importantly, it has to be done by me. The 7 years of insomnia, the daily “what ifs,” the negative terror-thought cycle, the improbable scenarios, the sudden dread at nightfall, and the immense need to control situations and people would be beautiful traits written for a character in reel life, but they don’t belong in my real life (but in case anyone in the industry is reading this, I can totally play myself if you decide to bring that character to life; Oscars, here I come!). 😛

What I can say is that I know that I’m not alone. I’m upset about that because I wish no one had to suffer through the constant crippling & paralysis that severe anxiety has on one’s day/goals/social life/entire life, but I’ve finally understood & come to terms with the fact that it can be managed. What we all can do & should do is be people who support one another, empathize with one another, & understand each other to the best of our abilities (this is true whether you suffer from it or not, btw).

In the words of Bastille, “But if you close your eyes, does it almost feel like nothing changed at all? And if you close your eyes, does it almost feel like you’ve been here before? How am I gonna be an optimist about this?” The new & hopeful words of my inner self are just beginning to form an answer..I am gonna be an optimist about this. I have a fabulous life to live.

P.S. If you suffer from anxiety, there are apparently a million resources out there, check ’em out here.

Today’s Interlude(s): “Don’t Let Me Get Me,” Pink & “Happy,” Pharrell Williams (kind of a before & after thing)