The Happiness She Seeked

She did not believe in being negative, or in complaining. The kind of person who kept her problems mostly to herself and strive to solve them with help from no one. After all, this is what life had taught her. To be strong, to never give up. She helped friends who were in distress, helping people made her feel content. The people who she thought to be selfish were not that bad after all. They had their reasons for reacting negatively to situations. Life was to be blamed and not them. She was glad she realised this. Sooner than later, added a little voice in her head.

Her friend was depressed and was miles away from her family and thus she was her only support. Suddenly, the importance of family came rushing down upon her as her father announced to take her and her sibling out to a restaurant. That day, even the thought of food did not make her happy. One would think that when exposed to a sort of treatment over a period of time, would not evoke any kind of feelings. Wrong. The wound was deep. She knew that it would heal someday, it is only a matter of time. But it would leave behind a scar. A scar. She looked at herself in the mirror and thought if she should start counting all the scars, but she had to push that thought deep into her unconscious again. Which meant more sleepless nights, many more nightmares. She could hear the blare of the horn. Dad. They were waiting for her.

As she looked out the window of the car, she thought to herself that negativity was such a waste of time and it is definately not worth it. Positivity means having expectations but what if those expectations were not met? Nevertheless, she decided to not sway from her principles, she would be positive as much as she could. "Negativity only attracts negativity", she had been told.

Fighting back her tears, she sent a text message to her friend, the one who had said she wants company. Of course she agreed to stay with her till she feels fine. At the end of the day, I have my family, my animals, to turn to and my friend had no one but me, she thought to herself. And she knew what it felt like to not have anyone to talk to when you need them the most, because she had experienced it. The only thing that kept her going were her animals. She would spread happiness. By being there for someone who needed her. By being someone else's reason to smile. At the end of the day, she would be happy to have brought a smile on a friend's face. 

As for her, she will learn to survive as long as the animals continue to exist.. She knew how to keep herself busy and to not give all those people a thought who did not reciprocate her care. She knew of her goals. For, she was focused and nothing could stop her.

The power of being impatient, it's called

I believe in Zodiac signs as much as i believe in Bruno and his "don't eat" tricks. Not in the daily predictions, mind you, but the love signs and compatibility, et all. It is fun AND true, to an extent.
But his whole thing about Taureans being "patient", i dont know who got that from where. Maybe they thought "hey, let's just make the summer children feel better and compare them to bulls and say the have patience that can move mountains!". Amusing, and it works because we get ourselves to think we are patient and we actually end up being so. Miracles do happen, they said.
I woudnt be surprised if i am the only Taurean who is this way, though. Especially with the recent turn of events, i would not be surprised if i find a Genie in my wardrobe, willing to fulfill all my darn wishes. Finding happiness where you least expect it, or something of that sort. Are you listening, Genie?
Back to the topic, clearly the person who incorporated "patience" in Taurus was not of the same sign, if he was not playing a prank. To a certain degree, i guess you could call us patient otherwise, it just sounds so wrong.
I have been (blessed) with this disorder of making lists.
Lists of what to do.
Lists of what text books to buy.
Lists of what notebooks to buy.
Lists of what i want.
Lists of what i need.
Lists of what i should do.
Lists of what i need to do.
Haircuts.
Addition to animal kingdom.
Transportation.
You get the point.
It's obsessive and i can drive myself insane with this, with no help from my sibling, really. What's worse is that, it does not just stop at making the lists. You want to and HAVE TO do things on the list and mark it as done.And you want to get it done with before you can say "guinea pig".I.want.it.now. 
The symptoms include waking up in the middle of the night and jotting down more things in your little book.
Go to Landmark and to buy the green book you saw.
While at it, dont forget the erasers!
Oh and those colorful pencils.
Times like these i curse for not having a monochromatic vision. Things would be so much more simpler then. Or so i would like to believe. Let's not be diplomatic, now.
Those crayons , iwant. No no, i NEED.
For what? I dont know. Use it as a marker on the text book? I could take them to college everyday, and find someway to put it to use. It would fit perfectly between the pouch that contains a hundred different colored pens and the huge purse.
Why does there have to be such pretty, colorful things at the stationery shop?! Kill me now!

Oink and chop.

Overcoming fear

The day had finally arrived and everything seemed to be going way too fast for it to register in my brain. I was not thinking clearly as i heard a familiar voice blaring over the speakers. The Principal. Had his voice always been this squeaky? 

I felt my stream of thoughts drift away to insignificant things. This was one of the defense mechanisms i had developed against stress which worked wonders to a certain degree. My hands felt numb and i looked down to realize i was clenching my fists. A quick turn towards the array of seats behind me to notice any familiar faces. None. I had to do this alone and this time, there was no out. 

I told myself that it is not a big deal, it is just one of those many fears that i have to overcome and it would be best if i try not to fret about it and end up making a fool of myself on the stage. Embarrassment. The thought of it made me shudder. A lot of people have over come their fear by facing it, i told myself, so just do it.

An entire week seemed to have passed by the time i was called on to the stage. I wished i would dissociate into another personality, one that could deal with facing an audience. I really hoped something of that sort happened, just as long as my prophecy of making a complete fool of myself would not come true. No such luck that day.

The stage was too bright, i could barely see the audience. I tried hard not to squint as i cursed my sensitive eyes. The optician was right about my eyes being unhealthy; I wonder how those pupil-dilating fluids work? FOCUS. Had i dissociated yet? Had another personailty taken over? I tried to remember events from my childhood. Nope, still the same personality. Dang. 

With no other option left, i took out my little sheet of paper on which i had written my speech. Is it just me or is this stage burning hot? I dint remember writing the speech with a fountain pen. Why were the words shrinking in size? Should i start reading, yet? Or do i wait for a couple of minutes more? Why does everything have to be so quiet around here? A little bit of music would not hurt anyone. I have always liked the thought of a background music.

Taking a long breath, i promised myself that i would not ruin this. I held the speech firmly in my hands and began to read, ignoring the audience. I was told that this trick works wonders in situations so i gave it a shot since i dint have many options at that time, really.

A good couple of minutes later, i looked up. I had done it, i had read out my entire speech and it did not take as much time as i thought it would. I did it, with no mistakes, no stammering and no pausing. There was no standing ovation but i felt good; i felt the people giving me a huge round of applause, all in my head. As i got off the stage, i realized, sometimes all a person needs is that one tiny push to overcome a fear.

I remember going home that night and marking Stage Fear off my list.

Psychoanalytic theory of selfishness

 One of the main plus points of studying Psychology is that it broadens your perspective and makes you realize that there are all kinds of people in the world- the friendly ones, the shy, the bold, the hyper. In recent times, i have been trying to figure out what is it in a person that moulds them to be who they are. Freud's theory worked wonders in helping me with this, (to some degree) that the outward behavior is influenced by the unconscious. So, it is something in the environment or some event that has taken place in the life of the individual that makes him acquire certain distinct characteristics. For example, a girl who was physically abused during childhood, tends to develop hatred against men. But this does not explain selfishness wherein people talk about a certain event just to make another person feel terrible about it, or to rub it in their face. Guess it makes them feel good about it, but what ever happened to the conscience of these people? Do they not feel guilty for going that? Or don't they know what they are doing?

What i haven't been able to figure out so far is what exactly makes a person be selfish? Being possessive is one thing, but there are people who talk to you only when they need your help, or else, your existence does not matter to them; they are with you as long as they feel they need you and the minute they meet someone new or someone who they feel are better than you, they do not even give you a glance. None of the theories on personality have been helpful in stating a reason for this; it cant be an acquired trait because it does not classify as a basic feeling so how could one acquire it or learn it from the environment unless, a child is taught to put his needs first and not give a thought about anything else? I am sure no parent would invoke that feeling in their child. So, it's not a learnt trait, does not fit the social theory, is definitely is not explained in the Humanistic Approach, then what is it. I think i just confused myself. :|

Apparently, I happen to be blessed in meeting a good lot of such people and since i am the only one who seems to see this trait of theirs, i am getting bored. I need a variation, a different trait to break my head upon. Selfishness is getting plain monotonous and annoying.

The Best Friend

I have known her since forever. She has never liked the name her parents gave her and preferred to be called Lydia. We used to do everything together-play, homework, going on hikes, you name it. Life seemed like a scene from a Hollywood movie, but i know nothing will ever tear us apart. We were Best Friends Forever. Lydia and I.
My classmates were very friendly in the beginning. I was very excited to get to know them, to have more friends to play Tag with. Lydia warned me to not trust them, to maintain my distance; but i managed to convince her to give them a chance and boy, was i wrong!
I thought they would like Lydia, there is nothing to "not like" about her.
I still remember the looks on their face when i introduced them to her. That was the last day any of them even smiled at me. Lydia gave me the "i told u so" look and it bothered me a lot, I could not come up with one good reason why they would not talk to me.
Lydia taught me to not care about them. She said they dont deserve it. She was my only friend from then on, we would sit in the corner of the class, next to each other and draw pictures of all the other girls in class being run over by a bus. These drawings used to make us very pleased with ourselves and i had to hide all the drawings in my closet after i got home; i had not told my parents about Lydia and did not intend to tell them either because they would break our friendship- they dint like to see my happy.
Lydia grew up to be the prettiest girl is school. She was a little haughty, but that could be ignored. We were in high school now and we continued to be inseperable, time spent in the playgrounds were replaced with going to malls and reading Cosmo. Life could not have gotten better than this. Not even if i had a hundred friends.
As time passed by, Lydia started talking strange. She would keep to herself and refuse to tell me what was bothering her. She said she does not want my help. I was worried. This one time, she said she wants to talk to Mary-Ann, she said she was the only one who could help her. Lydia and i know no Mary-Ann. When i pointed this out to her, Lyd went into denial. She started crying hysterically and told me she has never mentioned MA to me because she dint want us to know each other, she said MA is like her twin. That felt weird because all my life i believed that Lyd and i were twins. How could she have another twin, now?
That incident was the first of many. Lyd was never the same after that. I tried to talk to her about MA, tried to find out where she did her schooling and everything. On getting relevant information about MA, i tried to get in touch with her. Lyd claimed that all the pictures of hers and MA, when they went to the beach, mall, to Disney Land, were all with
MA herself. Strange. Lyd had spent every minute of her life with me but i dare not point this fact out to her. She was already hysteric, and i wanted to do something to help. A few phone calls later my assumption was right. There was no person named MA, inspite of Lyd being very fluent in giving me what she thought was MA's address and her university room number.
I was scared for Lyd. I talked her into going to see a Psychologist. She hesitated, said no one could help her but for MA. After days of constant pestering, she gave in. She had already started to look bad; swollen eyes from all the crying, unkempt hair which once was silky and straight and perfect. Miss Morgan was very nice to us. She spoke kindly, offered us cookies. We met her thrice every week and at the end of the 5th week, she told us its schizophrenia. That I am schizophrenic.

Freedom

It felt like just another day to her as she cuddled her daughter to her chest. She looked so peaceful, asleep. Almost like an Angel. But this was not the life she wanted. Baby Nylah, with her soft, dark-coloured hair, looked heavenly. She was everything a mother could as for. If only she hadn't have to make all those sacrifices...

Being brought up in a conservative family that was against love marriages, she had almost given up hope of marrying the man she chose but it was hard for her to let him go. After an age-long war between her love and her family, love conquered all and they got married, though the families refused to be social and interact with one another. It wasn't exactly the way she had dreamed her wedding would be, but at least the main part of her dream had come true:getting married to her Prince Charming.

Life has never been easy since then. Moving out of her in-laws, into a new city, setting up their own house was stressful, but her husband kept her from losing her mind. They were then blessed with a baby and her happiness had no bounds. Little did she know then how complicated this is going to get.

He didn't want her to get a job. He wanted to treat her like a Princess, so no matter how much she opposed being at home all day, she was not given a choice. During the free time she spent at home, after finishing off with the number of chores around the house and keeping Baby Nylah from crying, she pondered over how all her education was going for a waste.She had always wanted to have a job and work till she can.

She tried to talk to the husband a number of times, trying to convince him to let her work. Even a small job would keep her occupied, anything sounded like a blessing. The chores around the house can get a little bit annoying when you have cleaned very nook and corner you can think of. But the husband would return from work late in the evening and he would just not be in the state of mind to have this conversation with her.

She had got everything she had asked for. A lovely family that cared for her, a home to keep her safe. If only she had the freedom to live her life the way she wanted, without having to consult anybody else..