So, my mother thinks I’m a slut. Me, the ugly, fat, apple-shaped girl who doesn’t wear sleeveless or tight tops because she’s ashamed of her flabby arms and bulging tummy etc. Yes, apparently I’m a slut. She came to this conclusion after I said I had plans to go to the movies with my friends. She then asked who I was going with. As a 23 year old I didn’t think I had to be interrogated about my social life so I just said, ‘my friends, what does it matter who it is’. She continued to say ‘oh they must be all boys’. I asked what the hell was wrong with that, so I have friends who are of the opposite gender, what’s the big deal. And then I hear this gem, ‘if you hang out with only boys, they’ll talk about you and say that you’re easy’. Ha! Lovely. Thanks for yet another self esteem boost mom.

This is never going to happen. Mainly because I’m never going to get proposed to in my lifetime (hello! epitome of #foreveralone right here!) but in my fantasy dream world where I happen to fall in love with a wonderful guy, it would occur along the lines of so: spontaneity! I generally don’t like surprises unless they’re done really well so yeah, anyway…in my messed up dream world, we’re at a concert, a Coldplay concert to be more specific. The band begins to perform ‘fix you’ and he moves to stand in front of me, he moves in real close, looks me dead in the eye and tells me beautiful things which include: him always fighting for me, even if we’re hating on each other, and that even though I’m broken, he doesn’t want to ‘fix me’ he wants to help me put myself back together. He wants to be with me even when we’re yelling at each other or making each other laugh. He wants to make me as happy as I make him. And then he asks me to marry him. 
I’ve always thought about this. I’ve never told a soul. It’s up here because I’m slowly but surely letting the dream go. 
My dream world is a nice place. Utterly fucked up and fictional, but absolutely lovely.  

I probably shouldn’t be blogging about this but I have to get it out there somehow. I had a breakdown about forty minutes ago. I don’t know what came over me, but the wall I’ve built up around myself vanished for some amount of minutes and had me engulfed in all the feelings of inadequacies and whatnot that I’ve been bottling up for years. I haven’t let myself bleed for some time now, but I felt the immense need to do so tonight. I wanted to scream and cut, and cry even more than my body was letting me. I wanted to feel physical pain that is the reflection of what I don’t let myself feel every second of every day. It isn’t normal to have thoughts of the ways in which I could die at the back of my mind. It isn’t normal to feel like this. I don’t like feeling, and so I built the wall back up again. I just wish it was stronger.

Most of the people I know these days are either engaged, married or having kids. And if not, they are in relationships. Today was one of those days when I felt the reality of how alone I actually am. Now, I knew this already, and for the most part I had resigned myself to the fact that I am in fact incredibly alone. It has been that way for pretty much my entire life and despite having the hope that one day that might change, I succumbed to the notion that it never will. The thing is, I’ve gotten so used to pretending. To putting on this facade that I’m okay despite not having friends to depend on, not having siblings and not having a significant other either. But there are days when it hits me so hard and I mean it really goes at me, kicking, punching, slapping me that my whole being gets shaken up with the bare truth: YOU ARE ALONE. So desperately, bitterly alone that no one even knows just how devastated you are, especially when you get so weak at times to allow yourself to feel it. I just spent a good 30-40 minutes while driving, crying my eyes out. And yes, it was embarrassing, but I couldn’t stop thinking…and hence couldn’t stop crying. 
Friends in relationships rank their significant others on a higher level and there will come a time when they will in fact not even attempt to keep in touch. I can’t blame them, and I won’t. It’s just how it works. Those who are single, at least have siblings or best friends to share their woes with. All I had was my dogs, and they’ve left me too. I miss Scott so much and I think about him every day. As pathetic as it may sound, he may have just been a dog but he was always there for me. I used to talk/cry and he’d just sit by my side and let me get everything out that was bottled up inside. 
I hate talking about my feelings to people/friends. I just can’t do it. Maybe it’s because I have trust issues or maybe I’m just accustomed to the idea that no one’s going to stick around anyway so why the fuck should I bother. 
What about my parents you ask?  Yes, well…don’t bother. My dad, as great as he is, is unfortunately not around as much. And my mother and I (if you’ve read any of my previous ranting posts) just don’t get along. She wanted a daughter like my cousin sister and no matter what I do, I will forever be a worthless failure in her eyes. Let’s leave it at that. 
So where was I? Oh right…me wallowing in a broth of self-pity because that’s all I have these days. No dependable friends, no siblings, no boyfriend. Yes, this is how bright my future is looking. I keep being reminded that I only have myself to depend on. But what good is that when I’m such a mess in the first place? 

“Girls dress provocatively.”

“Gurgaon victim seduced the ‘kids’. This case is nothing, they’re just ‘kids’. She was an older woman” (these ‘kids’ are 18-20 years old, the woman is 27).

“Women ask for rape.”

“No rape without girls provocation.”

“She wants them to do this to her.”

“Those who complain of rape have made it a business.”

“Only 1-2% of rape cases are genuine.”

“No rape in Delhi can happen without a girl’s provocation.”

“Girls don’t wear proper clothes, it makes men aggressive.”

“If girls wear transparent clothes, kids will be attracted”

“Girl who gets into car with boys isn’t innocent.”

“The real issue here is that the girl is a habitual vodka drinker.”

These are just some of the view points of the policemen in India that ‘investigate’ rape cases. This is bias like I have never seen before. It makes me incredibly angry to know that I come from a country where if I were to be raped, the blame is almost definitely going to be on me. Perhaps because I don’t wear traditional clothes, or because I drink or because I speak to boys. Why is it justified for men? How is rape justifiable to begin with?! Why should women have to change the way they dress or not have a social life just so that men are not ‘tempted’?! Why are men not being taught to respect women instead? Rape cannot and should not be justified. It’s too great a violation of an individual. 

I turn 23 today.
When did I grow up!? I can’t possibly be this old.
Yikes. 

I haven’t been on tumblr in ages. In all honesty it’s just because I don’t have the time anymore. Work has consumed it all. I’m so exhausted by the time I get home that I just have dinner and watch TV. I no longer have the strength to work out or blog or just do things that I would normally do in my spare time. It’s infuriating because it isn’t work that is really worth staying 2hrs+ over office hours. And it’s been like this for about a month now, if not more. I’m so out of it, I can’t stand this routine because it’s not only diminishing my creativity all day but also once I’m out of there. My colleagues are frustrated too, it’s all we ever talk about when our boss isn’t around. 
Anyway, I’ve been thinking (as I usually do this time of year), and I’m not happy at all.
I’m almost 23 years old and there’s not one aspect of my life that’s going smoothly, in some cases, it’s a complete standstill, and it is incredibly depressing.
I’m tired, all the time, emotionally and physically and that really shouldn’t be the case for someone my age, right?
I miss Scott and Patchie, I miss my best friend and my cousin sister, I wish I had someone to love, I wish I had a job that inspires me, I wish my mother would get to know me…I wish for a lot of things, for other people as well. But this is how it is right now and I’m succumbing to the weakness of not doing anything about it because I’m exhausted/frustrated and that is disturbing to me. I worry about my grandparents and their health, I worry about my parents’ jobs which are no longer stable, I worry that I will always be alone like I have been my whole life and that no one will bother to love me, I worry that I will never be a mother…and if I let myself think about all of this and more I know I will fall back into a depressive state like I have been in the past and I can’t afford to have to explain it to anyone so I don’t let myself think about it all. But it’s catching up to me. Fast.

So these few days off have been useless and utterly boring. It’s the Eid Al Adha time of year so we get a few days off. I unfortunately got only two as compared to those working in government sectors who get three and educational institutes such as my university who got nine friggin days off (a whole week plus two weekends). 
It started out ok.
Thursday (after work) - went with a friend to have some karak chai and then with some other friends to watch The Adventures of TinTin and then to the beach for awhile. I ended up getting home pretty late and had to deal with my lovely untrusting parents yet again (I’ll save that for another post).
Friday - didn’t do much. My mom went to Oman with her friends so I got some peace of mind. Got a hair cut. Bangs. Yay.
Saturday - Like the total idiot I am I decided to have a dinner get together at my place. I called a couple of friends over. I started cooking at 1pm and finished at around 6ish. It was such a mess. Everyone arrived at different times and a few left before others could even get there. One friend was already hungover from the night before and looked completely out of it. Another just stayed for an hour because it was his mom’s birthday, one had to leave before he met anyone because he had play rehearsals. One arrived at 9pm because he had to visit family in another emirate, one didn’t even show up even though they said they would. I suck as a hostess or whatever. Every one was bored and whatever conversations came up didn’t last every long. And I felt so bad because most of them traveled by metro and I live on one end of this city. Fail. Epic fail. Hence…never again. Seriously…never. 
Sunday - hung out with unholyshapes who had come over for the fail dinner get together the night before and stayed over. 
Monday - today…did absolutely nothing. By that I mean, watched tv, had lunch, washed the dishes, tidied up the living room and kitchen, watched tv, spent the rest of the evening/night on the internet.
It’s now almost midnight so I should get some sleep since I have to fucking work tomorrow. My right elbow has also been aching since yesterday. My body is one messed up form I tell you.
This was such a pointless post. Yet I’m posting it anyway! HA! Have fun being bored if you read this! And if you did actually read this, I’m sorry for wasting your time >.< 

So there are these graphs that are posted online. I’m sure they aren’t recent but either way, one of my facebook friends posted it on their wall yesterday and I can’t help but be seriously ticked off about it. 

Yup so this is it. Seriously? This is how we categorize males today? Yes let’s stereotype people based on how attractive they are. Apparently that’s in correlation to their character and sexual orientation even.  
Thought females were spared, oh no, of course not. Here’s “the girl paradox”:

Once again, amazing assumptions made.
If this is how we segregate our genders (and clearly people actually agree with such charts, or just keeping in mind that they find them humorous); we have a serious problem here people.
Now I understand that we all do it, stereotype people, situations, nationalities, countries…you name it. But do we have to continue breaking it down to every little aspect of an individual the way we do? And that’s not even the main reason this whole thing just gets under my skin. It’s the lovely little homophobic connotation placed smack in the middle of the so-called “boy paradox”. No, I do not believe that if a boy is smart, nice and handsome, that he is gay…or straight….or bisexual…or transgender. I just think that he is a boy. The same would apply for my opinion of a girl. I prefer to see people as people. If I am to judge them I would hope that I would be mature enough to do so based on their character or personality and on how well I actually know them. Keeping that aside, I refuse to judge someone based on who they want to love or who they are attracted to. It’s their preference just as much as it is mine to be attracted to men. That’s all. 
And to all the homophobes out there: whatever you choose to believe, that’s fine. But you honestly have no right to judge, belittle or laugh at those who are not the same as you, or who don’t have the same beliefs as you. If you feel so strongly about what you believe in and feel as if you are entitled to your opinion….the same applies to those who disagree with you. So get off your high horse and grow the fuck up.  

I don’t feel like myself. There’s something missing within me, which seems to be an integral part but I just can’t figure out what. It just makes me feel so uneasy when I’m alone. There’s this odd nervousness and uncertainty that just takes over. 
The work I do at my job doesn’t make me enjoy design at all. And yes I realize that one doesn’t always like every aspect of their job and that doesn’t mean you have to not be professional about it but to not like anything about it? That’s a bit much. It’s not that it isn’t challenging as such, or that I’m not learning. It’s just not what I want to be doing, at least not all the time. I want to design logos, packaging, collateral for a company’s identity system. I want to suggest photo shoots and be on a set and see things happening that would contribute to the final design piece. I don’t know, just something…exciting, something interesting, something more proactive. 
Keeping my current dislike for the way my career is going….I feel incredibly lonely. It’s not about having friends (I have some really awesome people in my life that I can say deserve that title), so yes, I do mean a relationship. It’s been two years since I’ve been in one and I miss it. I’m not the most flirtatious or romantic person out there but I want to feel that closeness that only a significant other can provide. I want to be able to bitch about my crappy day and hear about his, laugh at his stupid jokes and run my fingers through his hair. The little things. But obviously I’m so single it’s not even funny. I haven’t met any new people really and yeah I guess now I have some sort of expectation of what he should be like but that’s only because I’m older now. I need someone with some sort of ambition, someone who challenges me, makes me laugh and who I know that I can always depend on. Apparently that’s too much to ask for in a man, or I haven’t met him or he simply doesn’t exist. All I know is that I’m still fucking single and it sucks.  

I HATE (the once again “new and updated”) FACEFUCKINGBOOK!
I HATE the numerous changes, the disintegrating privacy settings (WHY THE FUCK ARE FRIENDS OF MY FRIENDS COMMENTING ON MY PICTURES??!!)
I officially just fucking hate facebook.
/endrant 

I’ve spent the last hour and a half looking up rooms for rent in Dubai and calculating how much it would cost me to live on my own on a monthly basis.
This is due to the fact that I just cannot live here with my parents, specifically my mother; anymore.
I went out with friends today. It’s the weekend, I hadn’t gone out all week after work.
The plans were confirmed sort of last minute because one of my friends wasn’t sure if he would be free or not. My mom was in the shower when I was about to leave so I just informed my dad before I left.
When I was halfway to my destination, I get a call from home. When I answered it, all I could hear was yelling. My “mother” was in a fit, her normal yelling-mode (she can never speak to me in a normal tone it seems). She asked me where I was, I said I was out and then she went on to scream how I just walk in and out of the house as if it were a hotel. She continued with saying that I had no respect for them, so I replied saying that it was okay for her to not talk to me, ignore me, not respect me and pretend I don’t exist but it was not right for me to do any of that and she said yes so I asked her what her problem was and she said that she had plans and wanted to go to her friends house and called me ‘sly’ because I go out whenever I want. I told her that she could have informed me earlier in the day but it didn’t matter because she just kept yelling and repeating whatever she said earlier. I then heard my dad in the background telling her to stop yelling at me while I was driving at which point she just abruptly hung up. I couldn’t stop crying the rest of the way. I just parked and sat in my car when I got there, I lit a cigarette but my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. It took me 20 minutes to try and calm down. Afterwards, I didn’t want to come back home and just wished that I would have an accident and die on the spot just so I wouldn’t have to come back here and deal with this for yet another day.
So basically as an employed 22 year old, I can’t go out with friends without giving prior notice to my parents (my mother especially) of where I’m going and who I’ll be with. I have to “respect” them/her even though she has been the one who has completely stopped speaking to me, ignoring me and pretending as if I don’t exist for about a month and a half now. During which she hasn’t asked me about how my job is, nor does she know the name of the company I work at. Oh who am I kidding, she knows absolutely nothing about me, nor has she ever attempted to find out. 
If you have bothered to read all this crap and are confused, just imagine what’s going on in my head.
10 years, that’s how long I can remember having to deal with her being like this, in addition to being a single child and being compared to my cousins, friends and her friends’ daughters.
Apparently I have to “respect” someone who doesn’t even have an ounce of respect for me. And I’m just supposed to be fine and dandy about it. Justice prevails.  

Quite convinced that I will never get along with my mother.
It’s been a month…and counting since she’s spoken to me. The only times she has, was due to absolute necessity for her and said with contempt, annoyance and disgust.
I started working during this (yet another; no this isn’t the first time it’s happened) cold war. My first ever job, which I got on my own and is in the field I studied and want to have a career in; she hasn’t asked me about it at all. Whenever I’m around, she’ll act as if I don’t exist, case and point: I’ll walk in the front door and pass her on the couch watching t.v. to get to the staircase and her eyes will not move away from the screen. People think I exaggerate when I say that she loves our pet dogs more than me, especially Patchie (who passed away two months ago). I wish people could just silently observe the differences in her interaction with them and me.
Moving on; I see how other people are with their mothers and the kinds of relationships they have, and I can’t help be so envious of that. 
I guess in a way I haven’t really had a motherly figure in my life as such. My own mother has only provided for me out of obligation it seems, and for the most part I do appreciate her for that immensely but on the other hand whatever respect I may have had for her in regard to that has disappeared, because honestly if she never wanted to have a child/or such a failure of a daughter as in my case, I can’t really empathize with her. I didn’t ask to be here and honestly she’s made me feel like I don’t want to be.
Having her compare me (an only child with no siblings) to everyone else of my age group, from family members to my own friends, belittle me, laugh at me, never taken the time to get to know me, actually admit to my father while arguing with him about me that she would rather have not had children than have me as a daughter, not want me to go to university…there’s more but it’s about fifteeen years worth of emotional torment that I more or less remember at least.  
Maybe I’m just exaggerating. But then again maybe not.
I’ve wracked my brain for years trying to figure out why she treats me like this and what on earth I’ve done to deserve it. I come to the same conclusion every time: she just hates me.