My favourite feature on Facebook is the ‘On This Day’ feature which reminds you of the updates you made each year on the given date. I love it because I love to live my life looking at memories, I don’t have much plan for the future anyways. On today’s date it brought me back memories of a terrible fight with my sister and the broken dream, the pieces of which I am still carrying around. And it makes me sad.
To be honest I tend to ignore my heart most of the time but the moment I start to think of it I feel I have been living with a broken heart and lost dreams for such a long time, it has now given me ‘adrenal fatigue‘ and ‘anhedonia‘
I wrote about my lost dream in my 2010 new year post, and it still remains unfulfilled. It was a simple dream really, I asked very little from life. It was a dream…
“…to know how it feels to be with some one for more than couple of hours, to know what more does a couple do besides having sex. How it feels to come back home from work knowing there is a man with whom I could have sex instead of getting a booty call at some weird hours of the night. To know how it feels to have an intelligent conversation over that government policy or that new trend in social media with him sipping the morning coffee after a night of passionate sex. To know how it feels to not wake up early and sneak out of his room like a thief, how it feels to wake up, smile, stretch, cuddle up and fall asleep again or have sex again, to be with a man of substance, courage, principles, kindness and respect, one who is not afraid of what the world thinks of his relationship with me, one who doesn’t get paranoid about his sex life with me a secret. To be in a relationship that may not have commitment but is unapologetic.”
I met many men in the last 20 years, had a lot of sex – close friends who got horny suddenly, secretive friends with benefits but paranoid about keeping it a secret, married horny men cheating on their wives, wild one night stands, evening dates that got interested in casual sex but not a relationship, curious men who thought I was a mystery but sex with me was rather a drunken mistake – I have seen them all and done them all. But I couldn’t find ‘feelings’ from any of them even for a minute. It’s like the heart never beat, like the heart died long back.
Talking about anhedonia or the inability to feel happiness or pleasure in anything its another terribly frustrating experience. I cannot remember when was the last time I was really really happy. I remember in 2009 when I was at TED Conference in Mysore with the who’s who of the world, saying hello to Shekhar Kapur, shaking hands with Shantanu Moitra, dining with Eve Enseler, breakfast with Abhay Deol and all, yet I couldn’t feel happiness. It was all so empty, meaningless and mechanical to me. In the last 6 years this vagueness has only increased. I keep searching for things that I think would make me happy but nothing does. Couple of months back I thought I need to do something I’ve not done before, so I packed my bags and went off to Ladakh alone without any plan. I thought an SWBT trip to Ladakh would make me happy. It didn’t. It didn’t make me sad either, I didn’t feel anything. Last week I went for a long drive, a road trip to Amritsar, Chandigarh. Again, I thought driving over 500 km a day would make me happy but I came back from the trip feeling accomplished but not really happy. My younger sister’s wedding, the birth of my niece, my close friends wedding, intermittent sex with various people, minor or major achievements in work life, fame, financial gains, all life events come and go, I am there at everything smiling and acting normal but deep inside I feel nothing. I have no excitement, no adrenaline rush. And am pretty sure I have sexual anhedonia as in I feel no pleasure even if my body goes through the so called ‘orgasm’. I have frankly never known what on earth is the big deal about sex, either I am asexual or I have sexual anhedonia.
Its a real fuck-my-life shit I tell you. But maybe that’s how we are supposed to be, mad geniuses born in a wrong world unable to fit in, we are too enormous for the boxes we were born in, too complicated for the people we come across, its not their cup of tea to serve our kind of happiness. So we are destined to forever be malcontent, gloomy and creative. Reminds me of Hugh Laurie’s Presbyterian upbringing that makes him incapable of being happy or enjoying pleasure. At the peak of his career when he was the world’s highest paid actor, he was still walking around with a long face looking gloomy, confusing the hell out of American paparazzi. If somebody offers him something nice, he’d be like, “I can’t just have nice, what have I done to deserve nice, I don’t know what to do with nice, or where to put it?”
Crazy as hell.
“I would cling to unhappiness because it was a known, familiar state. When I was happier, it was because I knew I was on my way back to misery. I’ve never been convinced that happiness is the object of the game. I’m wary of happiness.” ~Hugh Laurie
Hugh is also a terrible malcontent, and I find some solace in being able to identify with his crisis.
This is what fucks up my life all the time. The idea of traveling and writing a travel blog appeals to me but when I am on the road I feel like coming back and doing candid wedding photography, when I am doing photography, I feel like going back to Samyukta Media doing social media consultancy for NGOs, when I am in a 9-5 jobs I can’t wait to quit and be a freelancer, when I freelance I want to get back to the security of the job.
Makes me an interesting person in front of the world, multi talented, a woman of many pursuits, I probably have got fans out there who are inspired by my shit but it fucks up my life.
Enough of ranting for the new year. Here’s to another year. Happy new year.