Denouement

That tender cord holding me in shape almost snapped today or so I thought. After the initial shock of realization subsided, I figured it had come off quite a while back. I know this pattern. It hits me when I see myself failing. The last time I was all over the place baffling in madness, something nicer happened to me. It was unexpected and now having come this far, I can say is fulfilling. I was shifted directly under the most competitive manager. Whether my then current manager had organised my movement or my present day manager stood up to get me remains a mystery for now. Atleast their faces were happy while mine was glum. It took me time to come to terms with that changeover. Like I said it was unexpected… both the changeover and the change. I was presented with newer challenges and expectations; in turn, was regarded for my expertise I had gained during the previous tenure in the same company. They told me I’ll overcome this causal pain and boy, were they right!

One happy ending, that.

That was at work. This one’s in life. I identified this pattern some time back, yet could do very little to prevent from giving in yet again. A strange restlessness has crawled in me keeping me anxious most part of my waking hours. Sleep seems like an impossible dream until the sedatives drown me down. Let’s say, I drafted the last chapter of that book I was reading yesterday. It’s safe to say I finished the story. After all, eight years is a long time. When young, I often wondered how the directors decided on a certain ending for the drama or the episode… it could linger on for some more time and have a few more scenes added in it; then why it ended where it did. Now I understand.

Certain amount of emptiness crept into my state of being since the time I started to plot the sequence. Even though that was a much delayed response, I cried… at places I’d never imagine and at the slightest nudge. My cruel alter made sure no one guessed the real reason so I carefully looked for excuses. This was happening all in tandem without my actually doing it. I reached out to people unknown and distant asking for strength. Since they knew very little about me or what is really going on; it was safe to draw some wishes without having to answer unwarranted questions and get “advised”. Just how mechanical I could get.

I hate to see people go even though the equation maybe far from loving. Yet, I want it in no other way. Truth be shared, I’m the one narrating this end. For years, I was assimilating courage to fight this last pattern. I needed my mind to tell me that that was the right time. Writing healed me and so did work. I look forward to rushing to work all dressed up and with a beaming smile to face the limelight head on. I like being left a bit aloof, even though I am at my best when in a large group. For now, that’s my favorite place and I wish I could show off that part of my life around… Then again, never mind.

Once again my cruel alter is going to take over letting me forget this pain that’s making me write this or is it the stronger alter that’s making me see the event in its eye. That I fell sick soon thereafter is something that was bound to follow. Did I cry? I don’t recall! I got busy collecting myself.

The utter realization of I having fallen into this Karmic trap had made me go reclusive. I was serving my Karma or perhaps, the unfinished ones of my mother’s. In the final episode, I’ll break that last pattern… and break away. For years, I’ve yearned for this; yet, anxiety is ruling my sanity.

I’m not talking about it to anyone in person. I want to keep my strength. I’m close to becoming recluse, if not for work. At times, the new book seems a distant dream. Each of my alters is fighting different aspects of the final episode. While playing my role in this drama, I lost people, place and some of me too. That bit of me me is hiding someplace scared. I need to assure her that she’ll survive.

I’m this close to winning and equally close to losing it. I’m gathering every ounce of energy to cut through the wind to take off. This is my moment. I’ve dreamt of it for long regardless of how insecure I’ve felt at the same time. With my arms wide opened, I’m calling every spirit in the ether to hold me. I need to jump and let go.

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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.

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