Friends?!

I finally spent some time researching and writing today. 

Still managed to waste a lot of time watching videos and scrolling through Twitter. However, also happy about some progress. I want to finish the piece by this Sunday, at least the first draft.

Writing gives me less time to overthink, which is a good byproduct for someone like me. I have been quite anxious lately and a lot of times there is not even a trigger. My breathing pattern changes. I start taking shorter breaths. I get restless and irritable.

Apparently work is going to increase this month. Hoping that it doesn't but let's see. 

As an adult, it's sometimes hard for me to find out who is a friend and who isn't but it often feels that the people I consider friends are not really encouraging or aren't happy for me. This makes me question the entire point of friendship!

I have also lately made peace with the idea of not having friends. Maybe Purvash, work, writing, and books are enough to keep me busy and happy.

I have been watching a lot of Peekapoo vlogs lately that make Purvash cringe. But then he ends up cringing at a lot of things lol.

I am super grateful that I get to live with my best friend every day. You can't beat that, can you?

Writer?

Have you watched the show Girls?

If you are a woman reading this and have not watched the show, please do. I think it's streaming on Hotstar. 

There is a scene where Hanna Horvath finally gets a writing job in a famous magazine. She soon realises that it's not a real writing gig. She would not be a staff writer but would be writing advertorials. The perks of the corporate job, free snacks, and a good chair, all seem a sham now. She cries. Talks to some of her colleagues who were also writers in college, before they got this job. They won competitions, wrote poetry, and drama but have not written anything for years now. One of them tells her that even though he has not been able to do it, it's still possible. He says, you only have to go home and write for three hours before going to bed. Hanna agrees, comes back home with a plan, but ends up falling asleep on the sofa itself without writing a word.

The scene hit me hard. 

I have also been doing jobs that are not real writing gigs. I call myself a writer. It looked weird when I wrote it on my Twitter bio but I did it anyway. I desperately want to be a writer. Sometimes I think maybe I just love the idea of writing but I don't have it in me.

I know I am not a gifted writer. My sentences are not lyrical. I didn't grow up reading a lot of English books. In fact in school, I used to write in Hindi. My English teacher was not interested in teaching much. People around me have much better vocab than I do. But I still want to be a writer. I don't know if the desire is real. There is no way to know. Is there? Maybe I am just in awe of Ayesha Banerjee and Carrie Bradshaw and now Hanna Horvath.

I have not been writing. And I feel guilty. All the time. I have to work on a piece and I am just procrastinating. Every night I sleep thinking I will wake up early to write. Days pass but I never do. Weekends just go by. Whenever the guilt is too much, I console myself by reading. I am reading a lot these days. I also listen to podcasts where people talk about books and writing. I have all the inspiration. I have ideas bubbling in me. Why is it so hard to just sit down and write them down? Ughh.

Finally, at least I came back to my blog after weeks.

Ramblings

 [8:24 AM]

After writing the last blog, I got inspired to declutter my notes group on Whatsapp. I read about this app on Twitter (Notion) that allows you to make lists and immediately downloaded it. Then last morning, while being in bed, I reorganised my reading list. The list that I have made from the book mentions in some of my favourite blogs, a few Twitter threads, etc. Today I downloaded a few of those books. A couple of months ago, I was not able to read at all and I was mostly spending my time binging and scrolling through. Then somehow Deborah Levy pulled me back and just like that I am reading again. It makes me happy.

I am travelling for work today. I will be spending the next three nights at three different locations. The thought doesn't excite me though. It actually bothers me. I am most worried about toilets. So now you will hear from me next week, I think.

On some days, I like the silence of mornings, it calms me down. While on others, it bothers me and I start spiralling about things. Although I think the people I speak to matter a lot. Family, friends, colleagues and anyone who I am talking to on the phone or through texts/emails affect my mood more than they should.

I think I have grown more comfortable with this blog also. When I started, I was most worried about the point of all this. What is it going to give me? How will I benefit from this? What will I learn from this? However, somehow I am not thinking about any of that at this moment. 

Often I think about the digital footprint of people and what happens when they die. Someone I knew of in my grad college who would have been 27 today just like me died two years ago. She suffered from acute Leukemia. Her death was too sudden. She herself didn't see it coming. Every year, now on her birthday, I get reminded of her because people start posting on her Facebook timeline. Every year, then, I go back and look at her old pictures/ posts that she uploaded on Facebook. It makes me feel a certain way, although I can't describe that feeling. It's strange.

My experience of visiting gynaes since I was 20, my two surgeries, and numerous health checkups, have shaped me in ways I can't define. I am scared of hospital visits, I am scared of death (I don't know if everyone is). More than scared, it's better to call it anxiety. Shaheen Bhatt's book validated how I feel. I could relate to her when she said that she has visited hospitals for panic attacks thinking that it's a heart attack. I go to the office in auto and I think about toppling down the road and dying in a road accident. When I went to Chamba last year, my first thought was how and where will I get a hospital in such a remote location if I need one. So now you know I think about death quite a lot. I also inevitably end up thinking about my loved ones, especially P, reading this blog after my death.

Although I don't want it to happen anytime soon. I feel like I have just started living. I have built a home for the first time. I also truly believe that my 30s and my 40s will be a lot better than my 20s. I am looking forward to life. 

Okay. I have rambled enough. Bye, see you soon!

Phoebe-Horvath

[10:20 PM]

I changed the name of my blog today. It's named after two fictional characters that have influenced me the most. 

Phoebe Buffay, I loved watching you in my early twenties. Hannah Horvath, you made my late twenties more interesting. 

There have been so many more women who I have loved watching on screen. I have wanted to become them. Maybe in my pursuit, I also imbibed some of what they had. From Jo March to Anne to Lorelai Gilmore and Carrie Bradshaw even Jules Ostin and Ayesha Banerjee. 

I grew up in a small town watching YRKKH on StarPlus and so much of what I thought at that point was because of these TV shows. Much later, when I moved to Delhi and especially when I moved to Bombay for TISS, I was exposed to content that had real women. Women that I was looking for. Women who I could relate to. Women who made me feel less alone. Women who taught me what no education could ever teach me.

I wish and hope that someday I am able to write about these women and also those who were ridiculed in my extended family and society in general because they chose themselves. Or sometimes only because they lived and they wanted to be happy.

 It's annoying how much I think about writing and feel guilty about not writing than I actually write. I think about writing all the time. Sometimes I form the sentences and paragraphs in my mind but then either sit in front of the TV watching something passively or take my phone and scroll through mindlessly.

The last few days have been good. Mostly. There are restless anxious moments when I spiral for no particular reason, or when a family member's words trigger me. But it's mostly been okay. I have been working from home so that helps. 

I am so so much grateful for the house that I am living in right now. It's been four months and I still can't get over the sunlight that comes into my bedroom around dusk, the skyline, the clouds and the view I can see from my balcony. The fact that I hear no traffic noises in the street. There is no rush of any kind. We keep spotting snakes on our evening walks. The continuous breeze, the freedom to be me, the solitude, and the companionship that this place has given me is something that I have never experienced before. 

There are still things and moments that bother me, the shadow of my roots won't leave me easily but I am trying to be immune. I read somewhere that 'Freedom is when you are okay with disappointing people and I want to be okay now.

I am fucking 27. The only person I should be making happy and living for is me. That is the best thing I can do for myself and everyone who truly loves me. 

If you are reading this, and you know more women characters (in books or in movies) who I will love who are somewhat like Hannah Horvath or Lorelai Gilmore, please recommend them. 

Guilt

It's been 18 days since I have written here. I was supposed to write every day. In the last 18 days, I have thought about writing every day though. I am reading a writer's (Deborah Levy's) three part memoir. I am watching this show called 'Girls' where the protagonist is a writer. I think about writing and the struggles of it all the time. However, it still took me 18 days to come back here.

Today was also hard. It was a long day. A lot of it was spent in the auto going and coming back from work. I don't particularly hate travelling for work. At least on most days. Especially when the podcast episode that I am listening to interests me. The long auto ride seems worth it then. 

A friend asked me yesterday - 'Are you writing'

I said no. 

I wanted to explain her, tell her why I am not writing. But in, my head all of it seemed like excuses that I didn't want to say out loud. It been almost a month since I have received an editor's response over an idea that I shared. She wants to hear where my research has led me. I feel guilty all the time that I have not responded to her but I still haven't. I don't know if I am being lazy or this is called procrastination or is it just life.

Today while going to work I was listening to a podcast where a writer was talking about books and writing and life and observation. I feel like my mind works at it best when I am in the auto watching people and buses and traffic and just everyone looking as lost as me. 

I was remembering all these things from my childhood and I was surprised how vividly I remember the details of some of those memories. I remember it so clearly that I can almost see it in front of me happening right now. Most of those memories are not good though. Most of them are terrible, the worst. I don't know if I have any good memories that I remember as vividly. I hope I do.

It's been one of those days, when I have been in my head. Thoughts come and go fast, I don't know how to keep a track of them, or archive them, or focus on one of them. I feel like I lose them. 

I was also thinking about the kind of things that I write. Can I write words like boobs, pussy in my writing? Can I explore uncomfortable feelings? Can I write things that are true but necessarily not pleasing? I am having trouble even writing examples here. It's so hard for me to be truthful to my writing.

I know that my personality of constantly thinking about people and feeling their gaze is not doing me any good but today I realised how bad it is for my writing too.

I can't even blog or journal if I can't say the truth. If I can't say my truth. 

Shit Show

I had weird last 24 hours. I witnessed how two women turn on each other because of one man. And how the entire world blames either of the two women but the man still gets away. The women blame each other. The world blames them and calls them names. They become the hysterical witches who are paranoid and insecure and unnecessarily possessive. While this man who grew up in a sexist setup, and was never taught how to be with women is in a position of power and influence now. It's a shit show. This man's world is a shit show.

-------------------------------------

I have realised that if I want to write this blog consistently, I will have to make sure that I take out 30 mins for this in the morning. The day just goes by and in the evening I don't feel like writing. Sometimes I feel that I seek too much comfort.

I am watching a lot of silent vlogs these days. Especially House Number 26. It's weird but I find it calming to watch women on the screen do mundane everyday activities. I want to create vlogs too. Although, I am not sure if I can really do it.

Anyway, I am too distracted to write more today. If I do create a vlog this weekend, you will know. The chances are bleak though.

Bye!

Didn't want to write today

 [11:55 PM]

I didn't want to write today. I am just here because they say that showing up every day is important. I had a lot of work. I did some. Went out to have dinner with a relative who was in my city by chance. Overthought. Overshared. Felt vulnerable and tried to not overthink it. Drowned the voices in my head by watching a Youtube video and now I am in bed. 

There is too much food in the fridge and it is bothering me. I also don't like most of it, which makes it worse.

I read my last two blogs and cringed. It felt so unnecessary and self-indulgent. What's the point plus it's not even good writing. On most days I don't like what I write, or how I write. There is just this desire to write like those few people who I like to read. Sometimes it feels like I don't want it enough.

I have an editor's response to a pitch I sent two weeks ago. I need to work on that but I am not doing it.

Okay, going to sleep now.
Bye!