i go about my life allowing people to hold on to the impression that i am a happy person. and i am…more or less. but of course (as this blog stands as evidence) i have many many maaaaaaaaany instances where the world isn’t so hunky dory and instead of being the party-pooper in a social setting, i’d rather dump all negative thoughts here so that i can further be the awkward (but somehow entertaining) person among friends.
this morning, i found myself thinking about random things that make me sad and i decided i’m gonna make a list of it:
1) the moment when you realize someone is done with you, and you’re not done with them. it’s a tragic moment to realize that you don’t belong in someone’s life anymore. that their life does not account for you. that there is no room for you. and should you find yourself in conversation with them…the session is short and the topics are few. they have little to connect with you, they have little to say to you.
it is a pain and sadness i wish i never had to know. but as life and friendships go, you can’t be friends with everyone forever. it doesn’t change the fact that it is supremely depressing when you see photos of their life and you find yourself thinking, “wow…i really don’t fit there at all”
1.5) i suppose it’s equally sad when i realize i’m done with someone and the friendship/relationship isn’t worth it anymore. i hate it when relationships fall apart. there is a long list of people i’m not really in touch with but i still consider my friend, and i know if/when we see each other again we’ll be able to pick up right where we left off. but, there are some people who will stay in the past because i couldn’t be bothered keeping a friendship alive with them. this is always a difficult decision for me to make, but often my line of direction is propelled by unhealthy behavior or poor choices and lack of willingness to help themselves so i pick up and leave because there’s nothing i could do by staying. and that, is most unfortunate but you cannot help people do not want to help themselves.
2) the constant reminder that i don’t belong anywhere. Nepal is just starting to feel as “home” as any place has ever felt, but there are reminders everywhere that not all parts of me belong here. often the reminders are small and not ill intended, but they serve their purpose. a little while ago, a friend and i were talking about accents, i said something like “they don’t sound like us” and she paused and said, “wait, like me or like you?” a harmless comment that to me said “you’re not from here”. because it’ true. i’m from everywhere and nowhere and the places i’ve been have influenced the sounds that roll of my tongue and further confused my identity.
these days the desire to belong is growing stronger and with it, so grows my despair.
3) poverty is a large block of sadness but in specific old people on the streets. when i moved back to Nepal i prayed i wouldn’t end up being desensitized to all that i saw, and i am happy that a lot of sights that are common in Kathmandu still unsettle and bother me. but i am oh so saddened when i see the weary wrinkled faces, tired bones, slow hunched walk, and ache of age on grandmothers and grandfathers who have to take to the streets to do their part to earn a living.
how truly tragic that even at that age they must struggle. how sad sad sad that they cannot enjoy retirement, the sun, grandchildren, and cups of chhiya to reflect on their youth. how sad that they are denied living even at an old age.
3.5) at indicated above, my sympathies often lie with a generation well past its prime but if there are children who pull at heart strings it’s the glue sniffing crew in Thamel. they are always a harsh and sad reminder of the worst of it. those who are a lost cause, those who are beyond help. those i’ve already given up on without ever having done anything at all. to me, that’s the group that cannot be saved, they….so young…are well beyond an edge that can be reached.
4) my work. at the exact same time, my job and the field that i work in is equally the most inspiring and most discouraging thing in my life. i have succumbed to a 9-5 and while working and trying to do my small part to help the lives of those far less fortunate than i…this job wears me out and tires me with the realization that no matter what i do, no matter all i do, it will never be enough. even then, i try to do what i can and every day i battled with demons that ask me what i’m doing it for.
4.5) in relation to my job, i have yet to figure out if this is the dream job i hadn’t thought about and pieced together yet, or if it’s the job that’s led me to give up my dreams. in truth, i didn’t really have “dreams” to aspire to…what i had was more of a fantasy. and the conflict of deciphering what lies behind what lines and what goes where is daunting, and it makes me sad. sad because i know i’m still young and there are many adventurous years ahead of me but i am seeing that i am not as young as i used to be, and there certainly aren’t as many possibilities as there once was.
5) speaking of dreams…the dreams i have at night are turning out to be processed and packaged packets of sadness. the people i dream of leave me to wake with an ache in me. and the content of my dreams leave me worried about what my sub-conscious might be trying to tell me. all in all, it is a reminder that i still have a very broken heart.
6) a broken heart which is not helped by my mother urging me to get married. my mother is convinced i will die alone and it will all be my fault. need i say more? just the word marriage and all that in entails in relation to me leaves me feeling…sad, sad, sad.
6.5) speaking of marriage, a friend sent a link about kids and their thoughts on love/marriage and instead of laughing, i found myself troubled. it is so tragic that children as young as 3 or 4 should already be tainted by the cynicism and negative stereotypes of something that i still choose to believe can be beautiful.
7) writing. these days writing makes me sad. like words have lost their luster. like i write just to maddeningly jab at a keyboard to make noise and little else. it’s not even to make art anymore. it’s not anything. i’ve been in a writing fury the last few days trying to jot down thoughts and moments but i don’t know why. my heart isn’t in writing anymore. it seems to have lost it’s purpose and still i am here forcing out word after word because it’s what i do, and i haven’t got much else.
i suppose this list should end out. i haven’t the energy to write out all the other things that sadden me. i just hope i can leave the sadness here.