Day 133

Its 1.02 pm. Sunny. Solarium. Monday. Periods. Unchanged tampons. Unexpelled poo. Still silence.

But this therapy session I just had. Boy oh boy. So many thoughts.

- How are people sent to us. How does the universe do this. How did this whole series of events transpire the way they did, from where it started to now. And all fell into place, even more perfectly than I could have ever visualized in my wildest dreams.

- Because its not just the universe guiding things, like the director of a perfectly scripted movie. He might have written the plot twists and dialogues and handpicked the actors to bring them to life, but there is still a magic in the connective space that is born of those specific humans intersecting in those particular moments that no one could have predicted would light the screen on fire the way they did. And that's true for us too, perhaps. He might be brilliant or mediocre and so might I, and maybe we're a bit of both. But something was birthed in the subliminal video transmission space across the screen and it was magical and illuminating and feels like healing and growth. So grateful.

- Today might genuinely have been the first moment of real long term revelation. I know there have been innumerable others, but they clearly havent lasted. This one may not either, but this journal entry maybe will. And maybe this is the surest sign of progress and of real change or real healing? That the moment has arrived when I can hear it, feel it, want to retain it? And maybe act on it and get results from it? Or maybe it will all burst like a transient bubble in the void, but it will still be beautiful while it lasted.

- In summary. He said, 29th isnt an inevitable. You do have choice. So often people say they dont have choice. I sobbed. Went off camera. He said, what feeling is causing the release. I said, its not release. Its shame, just shy of self loathing. That you had to point that out to me. That I have agency. I am not just some helpless victim of my circumstance who is planning to spend the next 20 days wallowing in grief, not just of time lost, but sense of self lost, because what different does it make what I do anymore anyway, before I go back to the inevitable. Its not inevitable. I do have agency. And options. And I can wallow. Not in grief, but in understanding. And compassion. And care. And still be okay. And build identity instead of simply refurbishing a me I should have long outgrown. All the things I preach to others. Knowing better doesnt guarantee being better. 

- So that's part 1 of it. But the big secret even Brad doesn't know - or at least I think he doesnt know, because neither of us have ever verbalized to each other out loud - and that makes me feel safe in the carrying of yet another deep dark secret that no one else in the world knows - the identity crisis, the victim game of oh woe is me and what choice do I have - I have lived in it for so much longer and so much deeper than this illness and this recovery and this RTW and this LTD. It is the whole question of my life and all my present choices. The trappings of comfort and good enough. This job. This career. This marriage. This silence. This life long picking of battles and leading with logic and minimising inconvenience and maximising safety. The last time I was truly happy. The one time I was truly happy. And the fear that maybe I will never be truly happy again, because I am actively choosing not to be. That grief. That is deeper.

- And finally, a therapy moment that harks back to my childhood. The one deep dark secret shame I always carried. Never verbalized. Not to myself even, oftentimes. The good enough childhood. The good enough parents. The guilt and stigma of being an Indian child who felt that way. Then the long winded path to escape. Here we are, all these years and all these fears and all these choices later. Safe, comfortable, but stuck in yet another good enough. Replaced one with another, didnt I. 

- So is it just me then? The propensity for dissatisfaction, no matter what? But satisfaction isnt what is being sought. Or happiness. Or comfort. So what is the dissonance? 

- I am not a lazy person. Or unmotivated. If anything, despite everything, I am still deeply motivated. And can tap into discipline and will power when its worth it. I know I can. That isnt blind confidence. Its rational objective assessment. But I am an exhausted person. Spent from a life of running away, rather than towards. Maybe its time to actively run towards. 

- And even as I say that, the time will be in Jan 2027. Or March 2027 after the india trip. Or or or. The limitless procrastination. This is the shame. This is the grief. Of time and vigor and identity lost. 

- But even the last time I did it, it was thoughtful and planned and logical. And it worked. So maybe the universe taught me the wrong lesson? As Brad said - we learn the wrong things if we act against the agency. Because it reinforces we had no agency. I have learnt that wrong lesson over and over and over again. How to unlearn? Is there even time to unlearn, after March 2027. Will the universe be that kind? Do I even deserve it? Will I even be willing to accept it at that point? The charity of it, versus the earning? 

- Am I brave enough to earn?

- The question will hang in the air, like that ephemeral bubble, refracting and looking gorgeous in the void. And then pop. The bubble bursts again.