Best laid plans

I've planned and planned my life. I was 4 years old when I understood that life is what you make it, that being honest to your own dreams and desires is the best way to live, and that life is for the living. So I lived. I felt every emotion as deeply and thoroughly as I could. I dug deep into my soul to understand my 'callings'. I constructed my life with vigour - you can still see the ruins of my carefully planned life in the way I manage my finances, I lust after the World Map, I cry when my friend is hurt, and how I keep tugging at the bed sheet till it's perfectly aligned with the mattress in equal parts.

Somehow the 4 year old wise girl got lost in the last 4 years of my life. Slowly my dedication to building a happy life crumbled. Maybe it was the relentless torrential arguments, unimaginably vast gap between what I believed to be and what actually was, the constant battering of my self-esteem, and the mounting questions that two contrasting individuals fire at each other. My life slowly became an irretrievable clutter. I look back at the last 4 years and I mourn for the wisdom I was bestowed with so early on in my life. Curse upon my unnatural keenness.

I never knew that I was this unhappy. Anger was my defense mechanism - I blinded myself with a exhausting swing between anger and tears, I gave him an excuse to ignore his own emotions, it allowed us to simply hide. I've happily unhappily taken the convenient path for as long as my poor body, mind, and soul could take me, i.e., nearly the past 4 years. Now, out of sheer exhaustion I am unable to access any feelings of anger. Now, suddenly, we both have to deal with the real emotions.

It is only this past week that I am consolidating the horror of my recent past. How far I am from what I used to be and what I wanted to be! My soul is crushed with disappointment. My body is too tired for sleep. I am drained. The anger has left gaping landscapes of absolute emptiness. I feel nothing. My counsellor says I'm in self-protection mode. Maybe she's right. I've lashed at myself with no respite for much too long. Now, my entire system has come to a grinding halt. Can't take this shit no more.

The loud silence that surrounds me, disquieting as it may be, is...oh, so soothing. I love how I have the chance to look within. Ask myself how did I get myself to this point? What do I need to do to get back on track? What will make me happy again? How do I construct peace within myself? How do I inspire myself to regain self-mastery? How do I motivate myself to deal with life's hurdles? How do I learn to re-cultivate self-control and not externalized control? I believe these fundamental questions will help me reconstruct old M - the M who knew what she wanted, how to get it, and how to always be responsible for her own happiness.

It doesn't mean I love him less. It doesn't mean I don't need the social support. It doesn't mean that he destroyed me. In the long run, even that destruction will be interpreted as good. At least now, before we had kids, I have understood that no one is responsible for me. It is not his duty to make sure I am happy. It is not his duty to provide for his family. However divine a love may be - we are still in it for ourselves. Selflessness is overrated, selfishness is wrongly scorned at.

I don't say this with a rancorous heart, I say it with wisdom. I stopped taking care of myself and tried to take care of him, in the hope that he will take care of me. He doesn't know me, and I don't know him. So no one was taking care of any body. We were two very lonely sailors on the same boat rowing it in opposite directions, so we ended up going no where! All this wonderfully painful silence has taught me to first take care of myself. My god - look at me. Like Dorian Gray, when you sift through the pretty tresses and smiling face you will see a haggardly heart.

It is nice. My cup of tea. Crisp winter air. A book. A small office. Stable friendships. I have the freedom to look within. I have the time to be self-sufficient. I have the courage to mind my own business. And, importantly, I have the wisdom to enjoy my peaceful silence. I'm slowly finding my center again.