Guess it is in my gene to just move out from any situation….While I was in my mother’s womb, she tried to run away from me by eating up an extra dose of sleeping pills. She was leading an unhappy life with her so called husband of 3 years when their attempts seeking some temporary pleasure, put my seed in to them. When I entered this world through what seemed like the strife from my past seven lives, I landed into a family which was happy to see me for not having expected my mother to give their family a son. Soon after I was exposed to my surroundings where people knew nothing but hatred towards my mother, all those small things that one’s in-laws are capable of doing to show down a girl who has married their son but does not seem to please them by whatever labour she puts in.
I was growing each day and getting nurtured in an environment which spelt nothing but indifference and neglect towards me, a poor little thing that was craving for his mother’s attention and she was too busy trying to appease the monsters of greed. Instead of love that I deserved, I earned these insecurities. Days went by and time passed adding on to the inches and flesh to my bodily growth. Situations only worsened between the two of my parents who could never reconcile. Having reached adolescence I was expected to sort out the case of two adults who were involved in physical assault. Alone I was with them in the house when they decided to wage a war against each other in that small world of 550 sq ft cemented walls. They were hitting each other when I was left with nowhere to go, I was afraid but I wanted to save them from this insanity. Two adults that they were, succeeded in pushing me away and left me bruised and wounded in my mind. The only thing I could do was to run away from there… The society that cared for us never before suddenly started showing up in an attempt to prove that we needed their help. My friends at school over whom I proved by muscle strength, ridiculed me for not having proved my mettle at home. My maternal uncle( mother’s brother) who was my hero till then for the various weight lifting championships he had won, now questioned me on my not being able to stop these two adults from creating that scene. I had nowhere to go, taking pride in being a Man in the making; I could not cry and confess my inability to deal with the situation. From here on started a journey of my mental inability to be in a situation and face it.
Years passed by, the complexities increased and I would always become that small child who wanted to run away in the event of any problem. I began to isolate myself from people and not let anybody come so close to see my failures. I had a friend circle but I could not befriend anybody. I found that behaving harsh to people was the best way to drive them away and avoid any discussion what so ever. My Being did crave for love but I had no one close to express myself. I fell prey to my own mind’s tactics which asked me to throw tantrums and gain attention from my near ones. I would feel good when I was not myself and lost in the arms of someone who cared for me. This was not possible while being conscious for I knew I was not worthy love. My mind started playing a game of acting harsh when conscious (to avoid intimacy) and giving in to love showing helplessness with the help of my new found support, Alcohol! Alcohol helped me lose myself and thereby giving me time not having to respond to any situation. My inability with words always helped me to remain isolated.
I was making these choices but did not want to know them as a truth lying in front of me. I was and am in denial. Today, the world does not let the bruised child cry and so I have a heavy heart with so much to say and unburden but do not know how? I want to be close to my wife whom I love but cannot help running away for I would get belittled if I were to bare myself in front of her…Alcohol gives me no respite, my career going nowhere, I never built a personal life…Right now I am in the arms of the almighty, trying to pick up a new thread of life but I am scared, will I hold it this time?
2 comments:
thanks for your comment...Its not about me, it about someone who is close to me and looking at him I felt like penning down my thoughts...
thanks for your comment...Its not about me, it about someone who is close to me and looking at him I felt like penning down my thoughts...
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