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Disconnected

I am feeling quite disconnected from myself. I have spent the better part of two years trying to figure myself out and had finally gotten somewhere, only to have returned to Karachi and lost most of who I was.

The 'I' would have gone out for a walk and seen the duckies at the pond right now. But, then again, if I hadn't come here, I'd never have started yoga. I mean, I remember bringing home two library books but never even doing any of the poses. Here, at least I socialise a little, get thawaab for smiling and saying salaam alaikum to the yoga instructor and I get to spend time with mum (even if we don't actually say a word or make eye contact).

It's just temporary, staying in Karachi. As long as I keep reminding myself that, I won't stress out and perhaps will control the anxiety I keep feeling.

I'm just truly obsessed with this marriage idea because I think it will make me feel whole.

Ahem.

Even I know that one has to feel whole before they enter into a relationship. Otherwise, if I am attracted to someone, it will actually just be my subconscious being attracted to his subconscious... subconsciously (quoting David Hyde-Pierce from Sleepless in Seattle, which is a rubbish movie and a waste of two hours of my life I shall never get back)!

I still haven't received any sign of Aleisha's letter and it's killing me, because it gave me something to look forward to. It feels like the clock has been reversed by ten years, except then I was infatuated with Zeeshan Fatema (and look how that turned out).

Well, as Rumi says:

"Unless You give no one gives.
O Creator, unlock the gates of your bounty."
He turned his face to heaven and said,
"No one knows my devotion save You,
You put that prayer in my heart.
You raised a hundred hopes."

I got really angry with H yesterday. The anger was a projection of the anger I am feeling towards myself. That I should have made myself so susceptible and vulnerable; that I now almost completely depend on some sort of friendship or relationship with people, some sort of connection, in order to feel happy and at peace. Books and TV were my friends five years ago. Now, they feel as artificial as blue food colouring.

It is sad that I am so dissatisfied, that I still feel as though I am yet to meet The Friend and Soul mate I have been waiting for. If I exerted the same amount of effort towards reconciliation with my family, I am sure we'd all be the better for it.

Och, well. I'll just revel in the paradoxical nature of my created reality.
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