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I write again.

17 Mar

I have been away for a while. Enjoying my sunshine to its fullest.

God answers prayers.

I started taking math tutions  for an 8th grader. This can also be read as my coffers getting filled once more! Well, no actually, I did this to kill time and make the most of it. Math sums have run my dusty cogwheels again. After a long time.

I am also teaching my bro-inlaw Accountancy subjects.

Amidst this, I enjoyed the love being showered on me by my better half.

Like nature, after the day, the sun sets. The darkness comes out.

And like summer gives into rain, my good days faded a bit and now the rain has begin to pitter patter.

I find myself very weak at this point of life. Physically. My legs hurt. A lot. Not just hurt, its such a dainty word. My legs PAIN. Around my knees especially.

My FIL constantly belittles my parenting. It goes to my head and demotivates me beyond words. I am trying to raise strong kids. I don’t want them to grow up as tantrum throwers and cry babies, craving attention. And in the midst of this, both my kids are 3-4 aged and they EAT my head. I have so much pent up frustration, that I eventually yell at them. I am trying very hard to handle all the aspects of my life. Pulling together cooking, household duties, washing, cleaning, ass wiping as soon as I wake up, everything, along with a little bit of teaching, and somebody tells me on my face that I am doing parenting level -1.

I am trying very hard. I am among people, who when I am given a choice I would abandon at first notice. The amount of negativity drags me into the mud daily, that I let my tears run in the shower. I am holding myself with a piece of thread. Hope. Just Hope. That things will be alright. Giving time, some time.

The first showers of the year began on Wednesday. The literal rain. The sound of the droplets excited the child in me. But that died sooner than I wanted it too. The adult-ness of life, quietened me. I just watched my white candle melt away.

A distant cousin of mine won an award for poetry. I am happy for him. But deep down, a voice in me sighed deeply. I was a poet too. I thought I buried the poet in me. I buried Rose. Or so I thought. She yelled from within, yesterday. Under the sky with the fading sun. Rose woke up within me. (Nope I don’t have MPD, Rose is my poetic nickname). Why did I stop writing poetry? I don’t really know. But when I did stop, everyone else was writing. I have always wandered towards paths not taken. Well, I have now fallen in a pit. There is a way out that is visible to me, but it has a rope that I have to climb. A rope that I have been trying to climb since October 2015. God knows I tried my best. I keep slipping halfway through. God help me out.

Another thing that beats the brains out of me is my dysfunctional mobile phone. In this such a modern day and age, I am stuck with two hopeless mobile phones. Lava A79 and an even useless Nokia XL.

My Lava A79 is struck with a virus that attacks my phone as soon as I turn on an internet connection. I lost contacts, messages, and so many things in trying to wipe format and reboot the phone. And just as the bright screen gets on, I am hit with the virus again. And yeah, my daughter decided one day to pull out the charger cable while my phone was charging. The inner pins of the phone got slightly twisted. Charging that phone now is pure torture.

Nokia XL? Its Nokia. Incomplete version of an Android. The phone fell last year, so there’s spiderweb cracks on my screen held together by cellotape. Battery drains as fast as it charges. The browser dies on me often.

I also lost my 8GB memory card.

I can continue writing so many paragraphs on things going wrong with me right now. I spend the whole of yesterday crying at the same time hiding my tears from my loved ones. Hard things can’t be ignored for long. My human heart shrieks out from time to time.

Nothing is in my hands. Everything is going by flow.

My tuition kid flunked her math exam. Because her basics are poor. And we dint have more than a week to prepare for the exam. Failures in life punch me in my belly.

I haven’t. But I have failed as a mom, failed as a daughter, failed as a teacher, failed my health. I am masking myself infront of my parents. I can’t tell them my problems simply because they can’t solve it. Instead they would just worry. I don’t want to put the bag of worries on anyone’s shoulders. But I am also getting tired of fighting this battle like a lone brave soldier. I am not brave. I am just a broken person held together by hope in God and love from my hubby.

I have  got to stop myself from withering away into emptiness. Time is dragging.

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Posted by on March 17, 2017 in Pouring It Out...

 

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