I've been wanting to post for a while now, recreating my Argentinian exchange experience. But somehow, even though I find multiple interesting cultural differences daily, I couldn't get myself to write about anything, until now.
This really has nothing to do with Argentina. Or... maybe it does. Its possible that Im writing this to find out myself.
Last night while I was dreaming I could feel myself crying inside of my dream. It was an emotion I have felt before in my waking state but at a highly premature level. Insecurities stemming from parental discord. The feeling that they think I'm not good enough, that they will support anyone or anything that is placed against me, that they just don't GET IT. But in this dream... In this dream it was these emotions heightened to feel suicidal tendencies. All I remember was in our new house, there was a party and I was trying my hardest to avoid making eye contact with my parents. I tried to stay as far away from them as possible. And when they would manage to get near I would feel a whirlwind of negative emotions stirring up inside of me, making me grit my teeth and abuse them.
But no, that wasn't enough to make me write this. Having had disturbed sleep, I decided to take a short siesta. It was like last night all over again, only this time more vivid. The corridors looked like my school, and inside one of the rooms was a meeting going on with my father, his colleagues, me and an old driver that I profusely dislike, who was sitting on a chair next to me. I remember him saying he needed to tell my father something, and I remember forgetting about that. After I was done saying what I had to, I asked the driver to move his hand and get up up from where he was sitting because he was bothering me. Why did his hand resting on the side of my chair bother me so much? I don't know, but I flipped it and told him to leave. He then got aggressive and said but why should I leave, I haven't told saahab my problem yet! He wanted Rs. 15 to buy his daughter a gift. Rs. 15? Who today needs Rs. 15 for anything? What do you even get in that much? Again, I don't know, but that was bad enough to make me feel guilty and apologize to him. And then it started. My father's rant. That I don't care about anyone. I had finished voicing my problems, but that gave me no right to shut him up. And then the all famous punch line: How would I ever be a psychologist when I get so worked up about small things?
That is it. That's what it was about. None of these incidents mentioned above have actually occurred besides him saying that last line to me. It must have really affected me if I made up a dream around it, proving him right.
I remember telling him that I had apologized, and his friends/colleagues backing me up. Then I remember storming out of that room and him following me, only to hear me tell him to "Fuck Off". And then I ran for my life. I don't tell my father to fuck off without bad, bad consequences. Not in reality, and apparently not in my dreams either. I ran down the corridor and down the school steps. And then I stopped. And I decided I wanted to hurt myself. Was it for attention? Was it to punish myself? I don't know, but I started rolling down the stairs. And I felt pain. Real, physical pain on my arms and legs and back and head. And then a little girl who was walking down the steps saw me and decided she wanted to roll as well. So she leapt on to my back and got hurt with me for a while. Until a teacher I had never seen before stopped us, smiling, and said it was time to read.
Cut to me in my bathroom. I was smoking. And then I open the window and step out on to this huge balcony, one that I have seen many times before in my dreams, but doesn't really exist at all. I don't quite remember what I was thinking when I saw one of my maids walk in from another entrance of the balcony (my grandmom's bathroom window). She walks towards me and I quickly hide the smoke. Enter maid number 2, wearing my diamond earrings that I took off last night (in reality) and put into my accessory bag. While Maid 1 was questioning me cheekily on what I was doing, I called Maid 2 closer. This is a maid who, in reality, I absolutely adore as she is only 17. So I call her close and I hold her cheek with one hand, and when I have gripped it tightly, I slap her. She tries to move away, but she is not scared. She and Maid 1 are laughing. I am furious. I run to some room that I have not seen before, yet it looks familiar. My mom and grandmom are chatting as usual. I tell them about this incident, expecting outrage from them too. But what do I get? My mom telling me to take it easy, and that it was not a big deal. WHAT?! Not a big deal?! I almost had a spaz attack. I called her names and asked her to wait till Maid 2 wore her diamond earrings.
I don't think I could handle anymore, so I woke up and burst out crying.
I'm really far away from home and the last few conversations my mom had with me were to do with how she and my dad didn't want to send me abroad because they were wondering "if I was really worth it?" I had wasted enough money, I didn't seem to be interested in studies, what was the point in spending crores more, blah blah blah. My father is so goddamn rich that if he and my entire family were no more, my sister and I would be able to support ourselves and another generation extremely comfortably without a single day of work. And he is saying he doesn't want to pay for my education? That's funny, right? Makes me feel like I'm worth so little. Even my parents don't have faith in me. I sound like a sob story. A self-fucking-pitying sob story. But you know what, maybe I am one.
My boyfriend of 1.5 years, who I was willing to change my entire being of existence for and marry, was "confused" about me, and left. My parents who raised me to be the person I am today, the person who I was going to change for my boyfriend, don't have faith in me, not even enough to send me to study a subject I am certain of. I mean really, can I please have my moment of self-pity before I slap myself and realize that it's all my doing? Thanks.
Okay. I'm done. I should never have been willing to change myself for someone else. I should not allow anyone else to define who I am or what I am worth.... BLAH BLAH BLAH. Unfortunately the two biggest parts of my life doubted me at the same time and made me doubt myself.
No more self-pity. No more stress. No more allowing other people to define me. I AM ME. And I will be who I want to be, and if anyone has a problem with that they can go Fuck Off.
The only problem is... Who Am I, again?
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