People think of me as an agamic masochist. Hellbent over alluring agonizing and excruciating pain towards myself. It is as if I find myself in it. As if it completes me.
Makes me wonder if I am a "trouble magnet". Not the sort that Netflix would derive a quirky story for a supportive role from, but the type that the shamans would swear to never see the light of day.
In many ways I detest living like this. In other ways it has already become my identity. I seek grunge even in the brightest sunny days. I know I should stay away from the pain and hurt, but I also find the need to keep myself close to it.
You ask why? It is easier to accept that the pain is coming my way than hoping for something colourful. When there are no expectations, they cannot be broken.
I am not a masochist. I am a realist. I have scrutinized every little moment I have lived through thoroughly. I have seldom found salvation. All the memories of things that could go right only left my shoulders heavy with the thoughts of how things could go more wrong.
Have I really sought help? In many ways. Whoever said addiction is addicting, was wrong. I have never gotten addicted to anything. Shrooms, lsd, not even cigarettes. Nothing stays attached to anything falling apart as badly as I do. Not even addictions.
Many a times I have seen a therapist. Poured my heart out to another human with no grain of judgement in a closed room. You know the funny thing about therapists that no one speaks of? No matter how close and personal you get, the feeling of talking and sharing to another human never appears.
I always felt as if I was talking to a wall that replied with vague recommendations. But I could never stick to any solid recommendations either. Maybe therapy didn't work out for me. Maybe it doesn't for anyone. But we still praise therapy like we praise the Gunner's defence.
You ask if I reached out to God? We all have a religion. All of us. The atheists too. Some find it in music, some in skiing, some in meditation. We all have our own religions. Things we find ourselves comfortable and relaxed in.
I tend to push myself away from the healing archetypes. They try to shower everyone in their path with their "healing energy" and blessings. There is a limit to how much I could take of that before getting tired of it not doing me any good.
It had become my religion at one point. Surrounding myself in a blanket of healing mantras and extraordinarily big smiles. I tried suffocating myself in it. But that is what it was, suffocation. Not the type that I enjoyed.