Happiness

This blog/ diary thing I am doing started off as a place to tell people my story. It is a common story in some parts of the world, but most dont speak of it. So I thought, I’ll come here and let the world know.

But a few months down and this blog has turned into a lifestory of someone who is trying to replace depression with Happiness.

Today is a day of clarity. I dont get many of these days. Most days I am stuck in a rut, thinking about the past and driving myself insane. Most days I over analyse everything and get sad. Everyday, it is hard to remember that happiness even exists.

This weekend my husband booked a hotel room for me so I could experience how it would be like if i was without a family. No parents, No sibilings, No husband, No kids. Leading up to this weekend, I had plans of going out, reading books, eating out on my own and watching as many movies on Netflix as I could. I couldnt WAIT to SHOWER AND PEE on my own. It was going to the best. I did worry that I might not want to come back and I think my husband did too but I had to do this, If i didnt want to come back then there is no real point in prolonging this relationship anyway.

Continue reading Happiness

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Reflection

I started writing a post a week ago about what my husband did one night when the kids were more trouble than they should have been.

As I was writing the post I realised that there were somethings that I did that night that were pretty childish. My mind immediately started making excuses for being childish..

Well I wouldn’t be this way if it wasn’t for. …

But then I knew that was ridiculous because no matter what happened to me… I have a choice not to be a bitch or just plain immature.

Anyway before I could finish that post… things got in the way and I forgot about it.

Yesterday my husband and I had our counselling session and it was full on.  A part of me felt like she was picking on me but a tiny part of me knew she was right.  Again my brain started making excuses… well she’s a shitty counselor anyway

No she’s not.  She is right. 

I need to stop blaming people.  Yes it was their fault but no you didn’t have to react that way.  Yes it is a scary thought that people might take advantage of you if are nice to them but that is on them.  NOT YOU. 

Its going to be a long road ahead.  For a long time I kept telling myself that I need to stay alive and sane for my kids but that’s not true. ..

I need to stay alive and sane for me.  ME. Because I can’t let the past define who I am. 

Christianity and why I don’t believe it exists

I come from a culture where we are taught that religion comes first. No matter what….God is first. The problem is, that same culture confuses cultural rules with religious rules. Like for example; we are not allowed to drink at weddings. When I was younger, I was led to believe that this was because it would not sit right with God…. but the truth is, God doesn’t  give a shit… people just don’t want to spend money so others can get drunk.

I started questioning these rules during my late teens. I researched and got a pretty good idea of what was right according to the Bible and what was just a cultural thing. Up until this year, I was a pretty religious… I even named my first Born “Faith”.

I finally questioned the fact that a God exists during my 20th “conversation” with my mum about my uncle almost raping me – twice and her not caring… I thought to myself… “why would I be put in a family where they just don’t give a shit? I know that God only gives you as much hardship as you can take but surely after almost 3 decades I would have had some kind of resolution/ closure with this? And if marriages are made in heaven…. what the fuck did I do to deserve an asshole? Like force married to an asshole!”

I cannot disregard that a God exists because there are some things in this world that I cannot explain… but I cannot say he exists either because well…. why are all these children being hurt these days? Why can’t God stop it from happening? I know humans do alot to themselves and they have the choice to go ahead with a bad decision or not but how would a kid being abused have a choice? The Bible says that I should respect my parents and honour them… do I still honour my parents even though they blatantly don’t care about me?

I am feeling ridiculous writing all of this. I know there are going to be comments with a yay or a nay in it but I just don’t get it. So I am just going to say…. if there is a God he is not all powerful. He is there to give us hope during hard times so we have the strength to move on and not kill ourselves. Scriptures are there to help us live lives as good people and that’s it. There is nothing supernatural about God. There is no heaven and our lives on Earth is hell.

This is what I believe. I wish someone out there would prove me otherwise.

Therapy

My therapist agrees that my life is Chaos and she wants to see if my husband will work with me to help it get better and I asked her… what if he doesn’t and she said

“Then we’ll work in the two of being parents rather than partners.”

I hope this happens. I want to start my life again.

The whole truth and nothing but the truth

I have been trying to write the third part of my story for a long time now but the truth is I am not the type to sit down, think about it and then put it into words. Good or bad, emotions drive me so that’s exactly what I am going to do. Just let the emotions write the last part of my story.

The whole reason I started this blog is because I needed someone to hear my story and validate it, to say … “man oh man that’s tough!” Yea I know how it sounds like… like I was just looking for attention? But I was… I AM! And this is why…
Part 1 here
Part 2 here

A few months after my wedding, things in my parents house was getting unbearable. There was an argument that broke out between my parents and I and this was the first one we had had since my sister left the house. So it was BIG. In my moment of anger I asked my mum If she remembered the day I told her about my uncle. Mind you, we don’t talk about anything taboo in my family and in my question to her, I never specified which uncle or what day.

Mum says “Yea, I do. You were around 6. You were wearing your light pink dress, you were standing in the lounge and I was sitting in the dining room with your grandmother… you told me he touched you”

Continue reading The whole truth and nothing but the truth

Daily Update #1

I am in the middle of writing the 2nd part to my story. Not sure what I want to accomplish from doing this as yet; I guess I just want it to be out there for the world to know. I think just to help my sanity though, I am going to have to do these daily updates so I can keep my emotions together.

The last couple of days have been just pure procrastination. Procrastinating thinking about what is happening at home. I guess this is the circle that I get stuck in each time.

Unfair things happen > I kick and scream > they say they’ll change > and then nothing

My heart is so heavy, like there is something stuck at the bottom of it just pulling it down. My stomach feels queasy. I am spiraling down to depression and I know I am going to explode at some point but I keep telling myself that my kids cannot go through that again so I just stay quiet.

My daughter told me the other day that she is scared of me. She cried when I left the house because she got scared that I wasn’t going to come back. I think I have ruined her life before it even started and this was my worst nightmare. To influence her, to make her think that I was the scary one before I could explain to her why I get angry. My biggest fear though, I don’t think she will ever understand what makes me do the things I do. Because we all have choices. I have a choice not to get angry, I have a choice to just go with the flow no matter how hard it gets, but I explode. A part of me is screaming “BUT THIS IS NOT YOUR FAULT! HOW ELSE ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO GET PEOPLE TO GIVE YOU A BREAK” but another part of me also knows that anger is not the way.

Do you know what is worse than having no one that loves you? Getting someone to fight for you when they don’t care. So do you leave? or do you stay because it will hurt your kids?

The whole truth and nothing but the Truth

I initially started this blog to tell the world my story. I thought I’d be creative and write like all those fancy writers and perhaps maybe turn this into a book. Then the whole world will know how unfair my entire existence has been.

But that’s not who I am. I am not creative. My story doesn’t have enough to pull in a crowd and heck I’d be lucky to get even one reader in this blog.

I’ve decided to be me. I am going to be direct. That is me. No filter.

The basics

I had a childhood like everyone else. I grew up in an upper middle class home. My mum was a teacher, my dad an accountant, my sister (who is 7.5 years older than I am) was like a second mum to me. Due to the age gap and the sheltered life I lived in India I was naive enough to believe everything my parents taught me. “Family comes first” “Girls wear dupatta everywhere they go”. Before you get ahead of yourself… I should tell you that this is not a story of feminism.

Everything I thought I knew about my family was put to the test the night my uncle used my hands to give himself a hand job. I was probably 7 or 8 years old. I did tell my mum and my grandma the next day but there’s only so much an 8-year-old can explain. I can’t quite remember what I said but I do remember my mum and my grandma saying “your uncle was showing you how much he loved you”. I knew that explanation wasn’t quite right. But I also knew, there would be quite an extreme drama if I kept pestering and I just let it go. He was leaving to go back to Australia that afternoon anyway.

We migrated to Australia when I was 13. The only logically place to stay was at my Uncles house until we got our life patched together in a new country. I did this thing subconsciously where I packed enough in-skirts to wear when I was taking showers but I didn’t let myself think about why I was doing this.

As luck would have it. I got my first period when I moved into his house. I turned clumsy, always aware of my surroundings and who was or wasn’t watching. Always timed it so I wasn’t home alone. Never took showers without my clothes. I was bullied at school and I had no friends. This was the first 8 months of my life in Australia.

My parents are proud people. My parents were now laborers in a factory. From a teacher/ accountant to carrying loads of God-knows-what from one end of a factory to another is enough to turn anyone to depression. And it did. I saw the depression take over them so I never said a thing. I didn’t tell them about my anxiety, I didn’t tell them about the bullying, I didn’t tell them how I used to eat lunch on my own in the nearby bushes at school.

We eventually moved out, got our own house, my parents eventually got into good jobs and our life was normal. My anxiety was somewhat gone and sneaking alcohol in my Coke bottles gave me enough courage to make friends at school and I could finally go through my normal teenage-y, “i-hate-the-world” phase.

The Sibling

Continue reading The whole truth and nothing but the Truth