I have issues

7th July 2016

I have issues

I really do.

I think about the past and use it as a reflection tool, a bit too passionately than I should.

Just the other day I visited my hard-drive (repository of life stuff) and I started seeing old photographs. Old photographs of me (yes. I’m quite a narcissist).

I looked at myself and was jealous.

As I looked at the pictures, I felt myself go to the moment and I felt the past as a now with emotions, thoughts, feelings and more. It was like I knew why I was smiling in this picture, what stupid thing the person next to me said, who was the recipient of my affection, why I had my elbow out and more.

I realized, I just don’t feel all that much anymore.
I looked at myself and was jealous.

My joys, my sorrows don’t come from that pit anymore.  If it does, the pit is not deep anymore.  And just like that I started mourning the ability to feel extreme emotions.

Ironically, still, most people view me as an ‘extreme’ person.

Reflection time.

I saw myself.

A spirited person
Rain seeped into me
Pain pierced into me and bled me hollow

I laughed from my gut
Couldn’t stop my mirth
And giggled till my stomach hurt

But now? Where was the person in that picture?

Somehow, somewhere I stopped being true to myself. Bit by bit. I started conforming. I started looking for approval. And the funny thing about this ‘need for approval’ is. You can never get it. No matter what you do. No matter who you become. There will always be something more or something less. Always.

I stray again to spring 2008. I’d learnt a lesson then. I forgot.

That spring, I’d lost oodles of weight after a few months of eating nutritious diet and regular gyming. Was engaged to be married to my long time boyfriend. Was flaunting a new super stylish wardrobe. Was oozing self-confidence after 2 decades.

Finally I got the approving glances from the world. The SHREEJA who never fit in anywhere just fit right everywhere. I was walking different. Taking different. Was on the surface happy.

Just like that, I walked into a room and passed a full mirror in a corridor somewhere. I saw a passing reflection. I didn’t recognize myself. Moreover I hated the face of the girl I saw in the mirror.  I was in a state of shock. Was this me?

I sat down. I needed time to digest this information. This reality. And I cried. I cried and cried and cried for hours. That was the moment where the whole world approved of me. That was the moment when I finally ‘fit in’. But I couldn’t be with myself. I’d lost myself in the process.

I cried myself to sleep. The tears dried. And I when I woke up, it was me again. I promised myself I won’t lose myself to the world again.


I’ve forgotten that ancient promise, already.  I’ve trod on myself again.

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