Reading; what it means to me!

I was doom scrolling this morning and an opinion video dissing critics of smut readers pops up. I agree and believe that reading something  is better than not reading. Then this thought creeps in!

Though I do not discriminate between the types of readers, I do share the belief that reading does have a profound impact on your brain, it frames your thought and strengthens your vocabulary. Repeated reading cements the recall value of new words and it eventually brings confidence to your speech and prose. This is all that I simply know of, and research says even more on how profound ones psyche is impacted by the quality of their reading.

At this stage, I realised how damaging it must be for my brain when I abandoned reading altogether and worse when I started reading demeaning and derogatory content as a means to self-pleasure. It must have not only been such a disappointing experience for my soul but is  also a sure shot way to rot away my brain. I wouldn’t have any shame or guilt about reading erotica if that wasn’t the case.

Piece by piece, I dismantled my armour and disabled me of my one and only superpower that fed my brain and stood by me through thick and thin throughout my life. It is akin to abandoning ones best friend.

This is a reminder to me, to get back to the one ultimate act of self-love that always worked in my favour and never disappointed me. I need to do myself this huge favour again by getting back to my beloved reading and find myself in the process. And even if i don’t find myself, it would atleast enrich my soul with stories, adventures, thoughts and cultures of worlds that I could never even dream of.

I’ll have to find my way back to the part of my life that I loved once with all my heart. This is the THOUGHT.

Now, the plan of ACTION would be to follow some tough but critical  rules.

  1. To find a way to pleasure myself using my imaginative brain instead of relying on brain numbing erotic writings. So, it’s either finding quality stuff or getting imaginative, to stop the brain rot from spreading any further.
  2. Up my reading hours and be picky and choosy of what I read. And start writing opinion pieces and reviews of whatever I read. I do have a bullshit meter and I need to use it better to make refined choices.
  3. Be consistent with my reading so that it’ll not fall off the wagon or get side-lined in the grand scheme of things plotted by life. Sure, 2 books a week sounds overkill, but one book a week is achievable and that way it’d be a minimum of 4 books a month, making it, 12 x 4 = 48 books a year. Throw in 2 more and make it 50 books a year, this specific year 2026.

So, here it is,

I PROMISE TO READ 50 BOOKS IN 2026.

AND

WRITE A PAGE ATLEAST, ABOUT MY THOUGHTS FOR IT OR HOW THE BOOK MADE ME FEEL.

  1. Make a catalogue of my progress and update it at regular intervals.
  2. Be picky and choosy of what and how much I Netflix or binge-watch. If I cannot reduce the time I spend on it, I can always up the quality standards of what I watch so that my brain gets something of the rot until I fix this menace of an addiction.

Then there’s ACCOUNTABILITY.

Either be accountable for yourself or find an accountability partner. Let’s think a bit more on this and circle it back again.

Walls

I stay within coz they make me feel safe and protected.

I’m fine as long as the space is small and closed. But the minute the spaces starts to get bigger, my mind starts racing. It makes me feel vulnerable even if the doors are closed.

What is this obsession with safety in closed small spaces?

Why is hard to find calmness in the open?.. what are these feelings and where is this fear originating from?

Why cannot I just be? Why do I have to be occupied every second of the minute?

What demons of my mind am I running away from?

Can I survive in a new space? What if the day comes and my fear isn’t actually about finding a new place but actually the fear of being not being able to find solace in the new place? Can I overcome this fear?

It feels as if I’m setting myself up for failure by stagnating. If so, why? .. why am I so set on stagnating my entire life, on all fronts? Why cannot I seem to take that one step out in any direction?

It is not just the physical walls but it seems as if that even mentally and emotionally, I’ve put myself in a space tight shut around with unbreakable walls and threw the key somewhere.

Is the mental prison my real barrier that is creating some fear for real walls and a false sense of safety within the confines of my home? Is this what they call projection?

I have always been a closed person and did a lifetime of closed experiences lead me to this day? Never sharing, never talking about the things in my head, taking up superficial battles, living in my head, fighting and struggling in my own head, trying to survive all this .. what am I?I

It is one thing being a difficult person for the world to deal with, but becoming so difficult for even yourself to deal with is unimaginable. Or maybe it isn’t. If it is such a rarity, then there wouldn’t be so many suicides in this world.

I wish i catch a break from all this in someway or the other and still not ruin myself with endless distractions as a way to survive. That would be my miracle.

Things to gift your parents

A new phone

A smart watch

A chess set

Jukebox

Glass spice jars

Wrist bands

Cut their nails

Pain relief patches

Spend a couple of days every month

Take them somewhere every couple of months

Sort their home

Cook a few meals

Make them dried spice powders

Food processor

Check out their reward points and credit card bills

Help them with electronics

Help with things around the home.

Do some gardening

Forgive them, for they did their best with all the best intentions.

Time

Forgive yourself for not realising these any earlier.

How do I change?

Have a go bag ready with everything I’d need for a 2-3 day getaway. Plan and book one every month. Make a list of places that I’d want to visit and just go. Sometimes, just go on the whim, spontaneously, just like that. Live life a little the way you dream of.

Buy some gym wear and enroll in a gym. Go for atleast 4 days a week and ask for strength training and less cardio exercises. Ask for a boxing class around. Wear those clothes that you always dream of.

Make a list of all the libraries in and around the city and visit one every week. Get a membership at the nearest one. Donate some of your own books. Live this dream too a little.

Visit the salon atleast once a month, preferably on a week day and get all those things done. Waxing, hair coloring, manipedi, hair cut and a facial.

Get a massage done at home once every couple of months. Make a monthly thing to wax your face too. Plan these things, allocate budget to these. Live life a little.

Write down what you feel more often. Write happy, write sad, write good, write bad. Just write.

Watch a little less but watch good content. Watch things that give you joy, that make you feel, that make you cry. Watch but prefer quality over quantity. Spare yourselves a little to live your dreams.

Be kind to yourself, be forgiving towards yourself. No one else cares about you as much as you do, so stop taking yourself so seriously and chill a little. Smell some coffee and smile at the world, it doesn’t hate you.

I don’t really care if you learn or earn or if you make progress in career or if you find a guy, coz that’s the life you escaped from to live the one that let’s you stay sane and alive. If any and all of these happen, good for you. If not, nothing changes anyways. They have to be the byproducts of a happy life you are leading but they aren’t targets on their own. Give yourself the room to breathe.

Love yourself a little, be overconfident, be your biggest cheerleader and hype master.

Find ways to not just help yourself but others too. Your soul thrives on service. Be a bit useful to someone else every once in a while. If not anything, cook something and send it to the orphanage or simply go and spend time with the kids there. Fill your soul a little too.

The art of living

Who you live your life for and what matters to you are the most important things for anyone to understand.

I for one live a few lives. One for my lazy self, one for my family, one for money and one for my soul. Some at the same time, and some one after the other depending on what I need to survive. Almost everyone lives the same way even without realising that such a thing happens.

Sometimes this thought comes to me, only to overwhelm me in every possible way. I keep on saying this to myself that I rarely have “the will to live, ambition to succeed and reason to see worth in my existence”, and that I only wish to live until my parents are around so that they aren’t put through the pain of losing a child. If that’s true, shouldn’t I be living my life in a way that brings them happiness? .. Shouldn’t I be happy in their wishes for me? .. why do I resist so much and why do I thrive for this individuality and independence so much when all I wanna do is die after them? .. where’s the logic in this? It makes absolute no sense to fight and struggle all the time with the only people who would be hurt by your action, inaction or absence.

Sometimes i don’t even make sense to myself. When i question myself about this illogical though and/or actions of mine, the only answer I could find was that this is the only way for me to tolerate this life, if at all I have to live it.

But is that entirely accurate? Can I not do well in life, be better, be healthy, happy and still retain my sanity? Is it that big of an impossibility? Can’t my lives converge and bring some peace to me and to those around me as well?

This thought or entire line of thought arrived while I was watching, “when life gives you tangerines”. The drama is a lot of things and one bit of it is how we treat our parents, as kids and later as adults. How we reserve all our kindness to strangers and end up showing the worst side of us to those closest to us. Sometimes we see the worst in those who deserve nothing but love, all the while continuing to love them. We say we love our parents, kids, siblings and spouses. And taht we’d give our lives to them. But do we really give them what really matters? Do we take care of ourselves enough to be there for them when they actually need us? Do we care and respect them enough to not hurt them with our words and actions? Do we show our best parts to them?

Sure, I say I live for them don’t want to cause them pain when I’m not around. But do I love them enough to care how they feel when I’m around? Do I actually care for their happiness or am I just using them as an excuse to live selfishly a little more.

I wonder.

What makes it all worth it??

One moment you’re all good doing pretty well for a serial depraholic (aka depressed soul :: no points for guessing!!), who thought she’s pretty much through it just because her hair is growing back that too in black, or it could be wishful thinking 🤔🧐😅.

And dang just like that everything changes in a matter of minutes and all you want to do is find a comfortable spot and curlup into a ball and do nothing but binge your scary thoughts away.

What do you call someone who neither has the will to live nor the courage to die? I keep wondering about this more often these days.

All it took was a few minutes, a few scenes of a lovey dovey couple who had nearly two decades of togetherness in an apocalypse and decides to end their lives because one is seriously ill and the other one lovesick. What they do makes a lot of sense. Most people wouldn’t even have a few handfuls of such moments that these two got for almost two decades, in an apocalyptic world at that. It was incredibly sad and yet beautiful. The only problem is that it triggered something in me, something that I thought was well put to rest.

Healing is such a joke. One second here I was making baby steps at wanting to be better, learning new things to be better and planning to live and then just like that, all my brain could ever think of is the unbearably strong want to die. This is when I clearly know that I lack the courage for it. Why give me such crazy thoughts when I cannot afford them?

I just cannot absolutely die before my parents. Accidentally, yes. That’s kind of okay, one anyways have no control over that. But ending myself, isn’t the burden I’d ever want my parents to have. I have never been the good daughter they wished for and have always went in the exact opposite way they choose at every turn. The one thing/only thing I ever promised myself is that I’d never burden them in death. My life might be stubbornly mine, but my death isn’t theirs to bear. I owe them this one act of kindness. So, inshort, i simply cannot kill myself anytime soon. And for someone eagerly waiting for her death, I’m terrifyingly scared of losing my parents. Am i sad or scared about the life post their demise or am I sad or scared of the eventual choice that I’d make? I always wonder.

Wanted to write this all down as I can’t seem to remember anyone who can bear the weight of these thoughts. Thought it would help. This feeling of being completely useless, soulless and yet feeling this crushing weight in your heart is just unbearably heavy. Can I live outside this body for a second if that means that I can take an easy breath even if it is just momentary?.. The weakness that I feel in my every being, couldn’t possibly be physiological. If it is, then this life absolutely makes no sense.

Death, could you please be kind on me and take me into your fold with no inputs from me? They say that if you truly wish for something, the universe grants you those in unimaginable ways. Could I even be worthy of such grace?.. I wonder.

You

There are so many nonlinear thoughts running all over the place in my head and the usual me would hide under the blanket or numb my head by binge watching something or tire myself out with never ending chores at home.

At the moment, none of those are viable. And hence this attempt to pacify my neurons.

You know how we overcome our worries, fears and hurdles by deciding to face them head-on, I guess that’s the only way to deal with one’s own destructive self. Not everyone practices self harm in the same way. I’m a master self saboteur who only realises the impact of the devastation I left behind way after I leave the scene. So I guess this is my attempt to face this demon head-on.

You can always outrun your peers or competition but it is a real race when you are in competition with some imaginary version of yourself. How do you level up to the one in your expectations and how does one cope up with the failure derived off an imaginary version of success? .. How do I survive this?

The only thing I could do is to be that person I admire. Even if it is one teeny tiny thing a day, do things that you admire. Act like that person that you admire. Do things that create value for yourself within you. Be that someone who has your respect. Collect all those admirable and respectable qualities in all those people you adore, love, respect and admire. Make those life goals to achieve. That’s how we reach where we really want to be.

It need not always be a super tough goal or task like be as wealthy or as fit as this person. It could also be a simple thing like, give a pleasant smile like this person or smell nice like this person. All it takes is to make a habit to be kind or simply buying a perfume. Not just life altering big ones but small goals are good too. They not only give you immense satisfaction upon achievement but also give you the strength to make a push for the bigger ones.

The important aspect of this exercise is to find your goals and making a plan to achieve them. Walking the talk is as important as the talk itself and a never giveup attitude will aid you in days when things get tough and there seems no win or way around.

Reminiscing..

If you wanna just live, you can always live alone..
But if you wanna thrive in this world, you need friends, family, mentors and a village.
Choose what you want and then go for it.
..
Is my hesitation and inaction to make life choices about my unwillingness to be with/around people?
Haven’t I been like this since I was a kid?
Haven’t I always avoided people or dealing with people? .. why did I turn out to be that way?
And why do I get attached when I get attached and find it hard to leave people and roam around with hurt in my heart when people leave me.
What are the wounds that confined me to my own  four wall? .. what’s outside that made these walls so damn strong and what’s inside these walls that I never wanna leave?