Manifestations

All my life I've prayed for a home that is draped in natural sunshine and has a view of the ocean. And just in time for my 39th trip around the sun, I'm living that dream, even if it is temporary.

I've healed so much over the past month & I owe it all to sunshine, this view & clean(er) air. Long way to go in my healing journey but this burden has become considerably lighter because I left the place I've lived in all my life and but never really felt like home.

Male' was making me sick in ways I wasn't even aware of. We had to break down some massive walls to get here but so grateful we were able to make it happen. It was all worth it 🙏💛🧿

EMDR

After living with decades of untreated trauma, i've started treatment for C-PTSD with an EMDR specialized therapist at Prana Lounge in Colombo.

One of the main reasons I moved abroad was accessibility to better mental & holistic health care facilities.

This is the vibe of the treatment rooms area of Prana Lounge. Such a quiet & soothing place 💛

Red

I've been repelled by red roses for over a decade, owing to the memories attached to it. My favourite flower is a pale pink rose & when i recieve bouquets, red roses are often used as filler flowers. Whenever that happens, I give them away or throw them out. 

My husband got this complementary red rose from a bookshop yesterday when he bought some books & a pink rose as a V Day gift. I was instantly repelled by it & said I didn't want it. But then i paused & reflected. I figured it's time I stopped allowing red roses to stir up trauma within me. After all, it's not the flower's fault. 

So I heated some water & dunked the petals in it & made a pretty centerpiece for my dining table. I didnt want to be disturbed by the sight of red roses anymore. Instead, I'd slowly learn to appreciate it. After years of gradual healing, I changed the narrative 💛

Chrysalis

Indulging in a cocoon phase is an ambivalent process when our minds have been wired for decades to believe that all of our time should be spent being productive. 

Two years & counting since I started breaking these cycles but it's so deeply ingrained within my core that I must stay productive to prove my worth that I still feel a sense of shame when I rest. 

It's ridiculous how unkind we are to ourselves while preaching kindness for all. Kindness begins at home. And home is within ourselves. I need to learn to rest without guilt or shame.

Thank you for the growth, 2022 🙏

I've collected wonderful memories this year, memories which center around me feeling grounded in nature. 

I travelled a lot within the country this year and had exceptional experiences. The recollections of them still pull me in to those moments and I can see, hear, taste, smell & almost feel the things around me. 

I feel like I've grown a lot through the year & with me, the women around me as well. We are breaking generational curses, removing toxic energy from our lives, pursuing forgotten passions as well as new interests & reconnecting with our Inner Child. 

We are painting, reading, cooking, gardening, dressing up & turning our spaces into what we desire. We are setting new intentions for the new year and aiming to stick to them. All we can do is try. I'm just really happy to see us trying, everyday. And learning to rest, when we need to and even when we dont.

I'm entering 2023 with the intention of taking care of myself even more and spending more time in nature. I hope to manifest a lot more too. My wish is for you all to do the same with your desires.

Boundaries

I've been thinking about boundaries a lot, lately. The more I establish them, the more I feel at peace. I've spent my whole life feeling responsible for other people's emotions, with an inherent need within me to rescue them. 

The more I educate myself on why I am the way I am, I realise it is because of my childhood conditioning. And I realised how draining some relationships in my life were. 

I've learned to place a healthy boundary with those people now. Some, I've completely drifted away from. Not with animosity but with a quiet calm. 

Your boundaries are sacred. They are what keeps your inner peace intact. And it is a process, learning to honour those boundaries 🙏

Rebirth

Coincidentally, this full moon; a time of rebirth & resolution, falls on September 10th, which is World Suicide Prevention Day. Many years ago, on this day, I went through something that scarred me for life. And so every year after that, this date is a reminder of the worst day of my life. 

C-PTSD nearly took my life a few years ago. But somehow, I held on. I dont know how but I'm grateful I did. Because despite the memories associated with this date, I am in a much better place now. Many things I yearned for, I have them now. I'm glad I managed to stick around for it. 

So this full moon, I cleaned my home & now I'm cleaning up my mind. And I'm counting my blessings. Tomorrow will be better 🙏

At Last

Doing inner work & intentional healing is a transformative journey.

You withdraw from toxic materialism & crave simplicity. Home making becomes a meditative act that makes your soul happy. Making healthy meals become successful experiments that fill you with delight. Having authentic relationships becomes a must.

And most importantly, you remove yourself from situations that don't serve your highest self. YOU become ur priority 💛

The Queen's Gambit

I watched The Queen's Gambit on Netflix & I have so much to say about it. Let's start with "Major Spoilers Ahead!", though, shall we? 

So I watched several shows this year (once again, Fuck Ridley Scott & his obsession with serpentine babies) but none of them made an impact on me like the story of Beth Harmon. It's not that I can relate to being a world champion chess player or to being an orphan. The reason why this tale matters so much to me is because of the significance of the ending. 

In an age where dark & depraved endings are embraced to get higher ratings, TQG is a breath of fresh air, albeit tinged with the smoke of Chesterfield Cigarettes. I love how Beth returns to her roots in the end, walking away from the glamour she could so easily indulge in. I love the humility of it all. And the familiarity of her sitting down with a man several decades her senior and playing the game she devotes her entire existence to. 

Now, on to the dresses. Oh, the dresses. So. I grew up poor, so I never had the money to dress the way I really wanted to. And once I did start earning well, I bought a lot of clothes. Because I like pretty clothes and want to dress well. Not necessarily expensive clothes but nice clothes. So I understand why Beth dresses the way she does. She does it for herself because she can. 

The recurring theme of friendship in TQG is especially gratifying. And in my experience, it is also true. I have my Jolene, I have my Matt & Mike and I have my Benny/Harry/Townes. Friendship will save you from any abyss if you let it. People come and go. But the ones who are there when you need them, become your family. Like Jolene is to Beth. 

Now, to the Green Pills. I know the feeling of wanting your senses to be dulled. To want the blur and the disengagement from your mind. I know what it's like to want it so much that you choose it over everything else. But you can also learn to live without it. I think I learned to do it because I finally learned to embrace living over existing.

I love that she has a second chance with a maternal figure and I love how they both try to be better for each other. You can always start over. With yourself and with others. It is possible. Relationships take work but it's worth it with the people who matter. 

The actions of your parents do not have to define your entire existence. You can get past the addictions & distractions that consume your capability of holding onto clarity. You don't have to remain broken because you suffer. Everyone suffers. To quote Jolene, you should stop digging that hole.

Beth gives me hope. Hope that no matter where you come from or what demons linger within you, you are capable not just of doing great things. But also, of being happy. 

Awakening

It's Friday & I'm sitting here on my swing thinking about how much my priorities have changed over the past year, how my mindset has shifted. I now desire little from life in order to be content. The notions of what true fulfillment are, notions I've harboured for decades, seem trivial & misguided now.

The past year has been a particularly brutal year for most of us. Losing loved ones, being deprived of simple pleasures, being trapped within the same four walls & some of us going completely broke. 2020 has certainly been a mofo, yes. But it has also taught me a lot. 

I've realised I don't need access to much material means in order to feel like I have it together. I've found that a simple roof over my head, warm food on my table & some clothes on my back are enough.  Books, my swing and the plants in my little garden are the luxuries I've earned for myself. Now if I could just see the sunset everyday, I wouldn't have any complaints. Hehe. 

I've always appreciated my people. Deeply. But over the past year, I've realised how crucial friendship & familial bonds are. These people will look after you & help you, regardless of whether you ask for it or not. Most people in my life are inherently generous & kind. I hope you are just as lucky.  

I've also realised I don't need to become what I thought I should be. The demands that had been weighing my shoulders down were not my own, but the society's. And all it did was make me feel empty.

I've learned to need & want less in life &  learned to be grateful for whatever I already have. To not regret what I lost & to let go of people & things that no longer align with the course I've set for myself. Not with resentment, but with acceptance. And the wish that they thrive, even if I'm not by their sides.

Most importantly, this year has taught me that I'd be much happier living somewhere remote & quiet, preferably surrounded by foliage and near the shore, doing something simple to make a living. Societal pressures are irrelevant in the grand scheme of things, really. Your mental, spiritual & physical health are what's really important.

If you can afford to, do what gives you peace. I plan to spend the rest of my life doing just that. But yes, obligations are a part of life. Let's hope I find a way to fulfill both. I hope you do too. 

P.S. This newfound clarity does not apply to food. When it comes to food, more is definitely more. 

Healing through Humility

Earlier this year, before the threat of Coronavirus reached our shores & disrupted the routine of our everyday lives, I suffered an inexplicable loss. I beat myself up for my own naivety & for causing the harm & grief that I did. It was a process & it took its toll on me... & it took its time. 
Until one day, I woke up & decided that I needed my life to change. That I needed to be grateful for what I still had. That I needed to organize my mind. But first, I knew I needed to declutter the mess around me. 

I'd heard of the KonMari method being effective. The concept is simple. Declutter your possessions. Discard what you don't value. Keep only what brings you joy. Adopt minimalism. Adapt to the concept, embrace it... & you shall find some ease within you for having cleared the chaos around you. 

Marie Kondo is a world renowned organizing consultant, author and tv show host who's method of tidying up your home & thereby simplifying your life, has gained her a large following. Including yours truly. 

I looked around my tiny home & decided there was a lot in it that I didn't really need. Furniture. Clothes. Books. Accessories. Knickknacks. Things that were reminders of what I had lost. Things that no longer "brought me joy".

I approached it by categories & separated what I didn't want/need from what made me feel good when I looked at it or touched it. There was a considerable pile on both sides. I sold/gave away/threw away the former & reorganized the latter. Category by category. Until what was left was only what I absolutely needed. 

And slowly, over the next few days, I was able to release the tension that had knotted up in my shoulders & my back for weeks. But I still had my mind to declutter, though.

So I decided to truly embrace the Japanese concept of Wabi-sabi. In simple terms, the view acknowledges three simple realities: "nothing lasts, nothing is finished & nothing is perfect." The acceptance of transience & imperfection. 

My favourite word has always been "Ephemeral" since the first time I came across it, many years ago. And since then, I have related to it on a spiritual level. Fleeting...short-lived...transitory. I recognised the truth of how ephemeral everything in life is from a very young age. 

I suppose that explains why I love Cherry Blossoms too. Sakura is symbolic of transience. The flower is breathtakingly beautiful when it blooms. But the blossom lasts for only a short while, falling within a fortnight. 

Accepting these realities has enabled within me a deep sense of gratitude. Gratitude for what I have & also the lessons I've learned from how I lost what I lost. I now accept, without resentment or bitterness, that the world owes me nothing, and that while I do have a wonderful support system, the only person who can truly help me, is me.

Do no harm. Be grateful. Embrace life as it is, however short-lived happiness is or how swiftly things change. And above all else, I have learned that whether it is giving to you or taking from you, the timing is always impeccable when it comes to the Universe.

I hope this helps 🙏

Forsaken

Her incoherent cooing resonates around the Pit. She frets and fusses, tugging the remains of my dress down my thighs. I am empty. The shock of it has stripped me of all feeling. And yet i thirst for water, for food... for salvation.

She slides Her bony arm around my waist, lifts me gently off the muck I had festered in for days, the tendrils clutch at me, denying me release. I hear Her nails scrape as She scurries up the wall with me, and the jagged edges of the Pit cut into my skin. Blood spurts out and the warmth of it eases me.

We reach the mouth of the Pit & the light pierces my cornea, shooting a tremor straight into my brain. I have to retch. She gently lays me down at her feet, folds Herself down to my level and pats my cheek, cooing again. "Look" She croaks softly.

The light blinds me for a few seconds and I flinch in pain. I slowly open my raw eyelids and let my vision adjust to the light. I lie on a hearth, too vivid to be real. The shade of green looks unreal, corrupt, … these are no leaves, just blobs of green, clumped together. Garish.

The light that seems to pierce through the wall of green seems to want to gouge out my sight. I throw up and blood trails down my throat, oozing down onto the hearth. She wipes her hand over it and smears it senselessly against the green. "Flowers… pretty flowers" She croons, the tune, a forgotten melody from years past.

She had made this. For me. It is like a child's first painting, globs of colour clumped together. A tale only the child could decipher. There is no rhyme or reason to it.

"See" She croaks. "See" and drags me onto Her lap. Cowering down to my face, Her spine bending to an impossible curve, She touches Her forehead to mine and closes Her eyes. I take a deep breath and close my eyes as well.

When I open them, I see through Her eyes. We are in a clearing within a forest. Sunlight streams through the leaves above. Yellow butterflies flit past us and She giggles in joy. Poppies grew in patches nearby, the petals, the colour of fresh blood.

She grins at me, maniacally. Proud.

My scalp feels Her nails dig into it as She strokes my head. "There, there." She whispers hoarsely. I manage a smile, a thin curve of gratitude on my sunken face.

And so we stay here on the mouth of our Pit, me lying on Her lap and Her, stroking my head. Choosing delusion over reality.

Grey

There is an inexplicable contentment one can derive from the sight of the falling rain and frothy waves beating against the shore. My thoughts are serene and the perpetual churning inside of me is a peaceful simmer now.

I am in Raa Atoll for work and I'm delirious about being free of the draining clutches of Malé City. Even if it is for a little while. Time and time again, whenever I am able to breathe in fresh air and not the thick fog of pollution, disease and despair Malé is immersed in, I reprimand myself for not taking more time away from the city.

It is raining here, delicious thick blobs of raindrops keep pelting against my skin, making me want to curl up inside bed covers and sleep for hours on end. There is so much greenery around me that I feel every string of my brain relax from the tightness they usually are wound up in. Every nerve in my body breathes gratefully for the open air and the occasional wisps of wind it accompanies.

We don’t talk about this enough. We don’t talk about the exhilaration we feel when strolling along the shoreline under a grey sky, thick with clouds impregnated by the oncoming bout of rain. We don't talk about how the air feels against our body or when it is coursing through our lungs, opening up the forgotten crevices of our chest.

I am alone on the beach, this plump stretch of white sand that encircles the island. My feet sink into the wet sand as I walk alone, content in my solitude. Where else in the world can I enjoy this feeling of complete and utter freedom? I belong here. Not in a city that drains the will to live from every pore on my skin. I deserve sand beneath my feet and a grey sky above me.

I deserve this.

Be Kind

My home has become a harbour where people dock down for a few hours of light conversation, tea and peace of mind. It has also become a place where people bare their souls... and I have been mindful of the energy that would create within my home. 
This past week alone I have had my loved ones and a few new friends take me into their confidence about their trials and darkest demons. What I learned left me empathetic for some and stricken with horror for others. Followed by restless nights with my own demons surfacing for hours on end. 

And so I ask myself if what i do is healthy for me, being the confidante of so many severed souls while fighting my own battles. And the answer i arrived at is, yes.

I don't do this because I have a saviour complex. Nor do I believe I have a solution for their problems. I do it simply to offer some relief to those who struggle. Talking it out helps sometimes. I realised that after I started therapy. The importance of expressing myself. 

What I have noticed is that all of them have one thing in common. They forget to be kind to themselves. They forget that they are only human, and therefore prone to mistakes. And they are incapable of forgiving themselves. Guilt is the ultimate burden to bear. I understand. Believe me. I do. But then, we live, we learn, don’t we? We are only human.

As for those who subconsciously blame themselves for what happened to them; things that were beyond your control or needed to be done, you didn’t invite the trauma into your life. Sometimes terrible things happen. Things that are beyond your control. So you bleed and you grieve. But holding onto that trauma will not help. Seek the proper treatment for what’s ailing you.  

Talking to a friend might provide some relief but it is only temporary. Communicate with a Psychiatrist, get a diagnosis and get started on your treatment. Be it pills or therapy or both. Only you know about your hysteria, sleep paralysis, paranoia, inability to control your emotions and the extent of it all. Try talking to Dr. Arif or Dr. Shanooha at IGMH (for appointments, call 3335245) and get a diagnosis.

I texted my former Therapist today, after a long time. As you know, she lives abroad now. I showed her photos of my place and she was so happy for me. When I thanked for helping me get here, she said I did it by myself and that she was happy that she was there at some point to help me. This woman doesn’t know that she saved my life. Really has no idea. Haha. 

Anyway, I hope you muster up the courage and strength to help yourself. And soon. And I hope you remember to be kind to yourself. Cheers. 

Reader's Block

2011 was the worst year of my life. The years after that fade into one another, with me clinging desperately on to the sliver of sanity I possessed. Along with my dilapidating memory and inconsolable emotions, came the inability to do one of the most fundamental things that make me who I am. I stopped reading.
Not for lack of trying, though. Because I tried. So many times, I tried. I would force myself to read a page every day but I couldn't discipline myself to actually follow through. My mind refused to comprehend the words and my eyes refused to linger long enough on the page to acknowledge what I was trying to read.

For as long as I can remember, I've had my nose buried in books. I loved the time I got to spend in our school libraries. My fascination with reading began with Enid Blyton books and I would spend hours with my head bent over her work, marveling at the lives the children lived. And I lived in them as well. I lived in many worlds. 

My former Therapist slowly urged me to force myself to begin reading again. Over the past 8 years I don't think I've read more than 50 books. Or 40. Or even 30. I didn't keep count. It was too depressing. So last year I was able to actually hold a book and concentrate on it long enough to read a few pages at a time. I was delighted. It made me remember who I was. And how much I love being lost in tales. 

The thing about CPTSD and Depression is that it makes you lose interest in the things that you love the most. It broke my heart to be that disengaged to literature. I forgot myself. 

I believe that I have regained my interest in pursuing tales again. It is gradual and inconsistent and it takes a while for me to read a book that I would've finished in one sitting before I found myself with this block obstructing my mind. I suppose a lot of you can relate. 

By treating my conditions, I am able to go back to being a version of who I used to be. Granted, it is a raw, jaded and unstable version but that version can read and that is saying a lot. My bookshelf is my pride and my treasure. 

Without books, I wouldn't have this imagination nor the beautiful dreams that occasionally grace my broken mind. I wouldn't be me without those worlds I had journeyed into. 

I hope this helps.