It’s gonna be alright. Mostly.

I don’t know who David Levithan is, but he spoke the words I knew but needed to hear again.

11 Dec 2019

When I started writing this blog post, I am on the 25-hour flight to India that I booked 8 hours earlier to visit my sick mother who has been fighting for her life for over a year now. It has taken me all my will, all the money I saved stringently over the last few months and all the creature comforts that I have developed a yearning to, to stop killing myself or hurting myself mindlessly. The hurting part might have been because I don’t trust American health insurance but that’s not the point.

Before I go on, I better give a disclaimer that a very unruly upbringing, lonely childhood and too many western books I read as a child might have messed me up and what I do or say in life might not be appreciated by or applicable to all. Don’t get me wrong when I say ‘unruly’, by ‘unruly’ I meant my mother never posed any restrictions on how much I played on the streets with the other kids as long as I finished my homework, she let me travel all alone to school few miles away as a 10 year old if it meant I will get good education there, she let me attend any university I wanted if it meant growth and development irrespective of the cost and as a Telugu girl from a lower middle class family with too many opinions (or dreams/possibilities) and a big mouth, if that’s not ‘unruly’, tell me what is.

But the problem is you know, I wish my mom never gave me so much freedom, I wish she never taught me to be independent, I wish she never let me make my decisions or helped me in doing so. I wish she never let me leave home or the country and I wish she never let me obtain this life that is a huge gift and the life that I should be thankful for. Because I don’t think it is fair that she gave it all to me, possibly hoping I’d be happy and now not being around to watch me or let me share it with her. I also think it is unfair that she has been my cheerleader all through life, cheering the loudest for me at every step. So loud, that nothing else mattered and nothing else was heard, I forgot what game I was playing. For the longest time, her voice was my only guide, my only companion and honestly the only thing I needed. I wasn’t as independent as I thought I was because my entire happiness, sanity and direction needed that voice and that support. And therefore, I also think it is pretty fucking unfair that now I cannot hear it no more and not one book among the hundreds I read taught me how to believe, trust and hope everything is going to be alright here on.

For a while few hours ago, I was mad at her for having to be on this flight because it was sudden and I didn’t have the balls to disrupt my perfect life and I was too busy feeling sorry for myself for being ‘only 25’ to be facing the possible loss of a parent and how devastating it is for me. I was also mad at everyone else around me who seemed to have it together, had ‘normal’ lives and who I know would never understand what I must be feeling whether or not they cared. And it took me denial, grief and then some quiet to be ashamed of myself and to understand it is okay, when the many flashes of every little thing she did for me all these years flooded on. Then I realized in the simplest of terms that is it not my duty or responsibility as a daughter to be there but it is actually my responsibility as a human to be grateful for everything I have been given in life and then give it back unconditionally when needed. And as to feeling a sense of resentment for everyone else, I do not know what it is like to not have food or shelter growing up or having to be shot in the head for wanting to study so I am going to learn to be more empathetic and even more grateful than I am to just what is than keep thinking about what could be.

Now how did this post help y’all ??

I’ve been rambling for about 700 words of how pathetic I feel and how I am going to try and not feel that right? In between my lines, please once put yourself in my shoes and think of everything I may have thought. Or better yet, think of the last worst thing you’ve faced, something that shook you up so much, you were super scared to face but then you eventually had to go through it with anyway. 

Did the horrific memory come flashing through? Wait, it actually did not sting as much as it did when you faced it right? Maybe you’ve come out of it stronger, maybe you just grew numb, maybe your heart is a bit more of a rock than it was before. Whatever it is, it is fine, and you’ve made it. You survived. And in every horrible thing coming your way from now on (well, I am sorry to be the bearer of this bad news, life is not all fun and games) you will feel terrible, unready and God-forbid lonely but if you can just grit your teeth, cry your eyes out and remind yourself to be the bad-ass you are, you will definitely come out on the other side.

Wholly?

All Positive?

Better than ever?

Maybe not. 

But definitely with one-level of badassery upgraded and one beautifully adornable scar to remind you of your journey and maybe one extra reminder to be grateful for what is.