Living my life again

It’s been over 2 years floating through a transitional phase! After 33 years, it’s started bringing back to me all that was and lost too. From being a happy go lucky child to over – cautioned teen to a most reserved grown up; it’s making me live through all of that n more. All of this started soon after I started to write in my blog. Today, I realize, that’s when it had started, since I used to write when in school.  From re-visiting to places those have haunted me while on my 1st n 2nd visits, to bringing back phases I missed out upon to live, to phases, those are best described as dreadful; it seems it’s decided to crash upon me all of it one more time. Emotionally, I am taken in for a roller coaster ride almost every day. The days I don’t, I feel empty.

Nine years of restrain could not affect my passion.

For the last couple of weeks, I am doing illustrations for a book. How it had happened the very 1st time, I took to sketching yet again after 15 years. Mom was too apprehensive about my “hobby” as it was then referred to as. All of my colors were stalled under lock n key only to be bought all of it again because I had taken up Textile Designing (vocational studies) instead of any specialized skilled professional degree course. Back then; this is how these were referred to as. I took to expressing my mind with lines, shades n colors again.

Hell broke loose soon thereafter.

I lost mom the same year within a month of taking up my passion as a dedicated subject of the study, I lost my home too, the following year. I was subjected to violation throughout my 2nd year of the course. All her life when mom had wanted to see her daughter’s name put up on the merit list, she wasn’t around to witness when that really happened! Hadn’t I told her to limit her fairy tale fantasy expectations? If she had seen what I’ve been through after I lost her; she would have died anyways. Just which mom would take to her daughter getting violated kindly? I don’t think so.

Fast forward to year 2012.

The electricity problem is how it used to be. I didn’t own a television set then, the one I do now is not working. Financially I’m broke n that’s an understatement. My best friend is missing again! I stay in a place which is almost countryside, out of town- village- ish. Even the mosquitoes buzzing around seem to be happy witnessing a phase- revisit.

In all these stabbing similarities, there outlines a huge stand- out.

Someone I have known for the past few months have taken over the bit of doing a savior stint himself quite instinctively. I feel I’m back to my college days again when all I survived upon was a pack of uncle Chipps n FP (wafers n fountain Pepsi, that wasn’t a typo for FB).. The sketches I’m outlining have similar patterns to what I used to till a decade and a half back. The suppressed expressions have as though found out a way to tap its feet all the time while playing harp of my mental stability. I’m finding it difficult to not feel overwhelmed when I was gifted a set of sketch pencils. He’ll never know what chord he played by doing that. My parents were gone, I had to step upto being a provider to myself. Just when I am all grown up, fiercely independent, he gets me stuff so I take up to pursue my passion yet one more time. The same pencils are now drawing what I always wanted to, creating a backdrop for the memories of the past tense to dance-drama on my mind. The story doesn’t end here, this is just another chapter. Like I say, he is picking up every inflicted stance, redoing those, undoing the damage, out- doing it in all possible ways; washing away the hurt and pain in the process. The memories he has created in the past few months has already made me live a huge portion of my life till now. You can only forget your past if someone outdoes it in your present. The roots of your past stances are stronger than any force; I see him cutting those one by one.

My words have gone dumb.

Just how do I explain to him that this simple gesture made me go back in time when my whole life had gone upside down and not for good? I strangely feel exposed to the things I had taken in my stride- not by choice. I feel held by my hand; I’m dragged and made to stand face to face with my past life one more time.  I have begun to emote, to cry, and to scream I’m hurt. For half my life till now, I had gone numb, not reacting to any situation however adverse. I carry too much hurt to decide upon which one to cry about and then. It has been a few months already that I felt this was happening; with each passing day, the thoughts are growing stronger than the time itself!

How I have seen in the last few months, he has been creating fresh layers.

He has brought upon me the times back I didn’t live, but only survived through. Picking up from my childhood crush who later on became the biggest affliction, to stances those had tricked me into believing otherwise, showing the wrong counts between the milestones; he is picking up each one of those healing the wounds, first by opening them while cleaning up the puss and then by doing his bit of magic potion on it.

Probably this time around, he would wipe away all my hurt.

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About Olivia

Corporate worker, textile designer, writer.
This entry was posted in My Biopic Log, My mind and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to Living my life again

  1. fivereflections says:

    hello Olivia
    David in Maine USA

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