My madness, the futility of it hit me last evening when everyone from that party were uploading pictures and I wasn’t in a single one of them. It was like I did not exist. Like I hadn’t been a part of that afternoon based solely on the fact that I behaved the way I did. I got drunk, I behaved like a complete idiot, found some random random guy cute because we struck up some vague conversation about the army which also got me sentimental about Dad so I went out and shed a few tears and got back to my conversation with this guy who I’ll probably never meet again. I drank some more mojitos, felt even more out of control and all I wanted was to meet that random cute boy again. The party spilled over to Noon Wines and so did my madness and this time it was in full force. I have such vague memories about that evening and strangely I do not remember my best friend screaming at me. All I remember is that excruciating feeling of wanting to spend some more time with this stupid boy before he headed back home. I spoilt the entire party for that period of time and my reputation is obviously in tatters. I doubt I shall ever be able to meet these same people again until years and years have passed and I am at a more peaceful place in life. These people who never lose control, who lead these perfect lives on paper and these are the very people I wanna be. Yes I do not wanna be this mad, wild thing that I become once in a blue moon when my insecurity is written all over me, when the alcohol gets the better of me.
This madness is me too. This insanity is me too. I can’t deny that. It leaves me feeling ashamed but this is a part of me too. I am told that I need reassurance all the time. Do I? I think you’ll have to come and live in my shoes for you to realize why I do so. Everything seems to be a struggle sometimes. My stammering gets bigger and bigger when I am not feeling good about myself. I hateeeeeeeeeeee it when I stammer. I loathe myself just for the stammer. I wish I wasn’t ever ever afflicted with this. A large part of my insecurity stems from this speech deficiency of mine. And you know what everything cannot be worked upon and sorted out. Everything doesn’t have a cure. Most times one just has to learn how to lump it and live with it. So I live with this stammering even as I am asked question by my so called might be in-laws when they ask me “Beta can this be cured?” They wanna know if I suffered from some childhood trauma that triggered this off and I have no answer to that. I had a very happy childhood and I do not remember any such incident that could have possibly resulted in this speech impediment.
So I take my leave from these people whose standards of propriety I cannot not live upto until the day I do and I will darn well do. I know and then I shall be back fitting into such company effortlessly and holding my own be it personally or professionally.