2007 was a life changing year for me. I had just taken my ICSE exam and my entire life was hanging on, or I thought, on the string of the result of my first board exam. Like every other teenager I had my issues. Immense pressure to build a career, not so understanding parents, low self esteem to name a few... This was also the year of my struggle with my sexuality
I had realised that I liked girls as well as boys. This was a big shock to someone who has been brought up with 'traditional Indian values'. Values Schmalues! Heck I was struggling to accept myself as a bisexual. Torn between the constant denial and guilt, I found myself in an all girls' school from a co-ed school. I became the 'unaccommodated man',err bisexual. I was The Outsider. Honestly it was tough for me to accept so many changes in such a short time. I became the socially awkward sore thumb. I was angry..angry with my over-protective parents, my well adjusted classmates, all the beautiful girls with the perfect figure and those with the perfect grades..or so I thought. In reality I was angry with myself. I hated everything about me..the way I looked, walked, talked..every single thing.. Often the anger felt really weird as I felt kinda happy and angry at the same time. I felt really really excited, almost high. At other times I was down in the dumps. I found it hard to cope up with my ever changing moods. I took up smoking, more as a diversion from the drama that happened inside my head all the time. I became more and more disconnected with reality and started living in my imaginary world, with imaginary friends. It was my respite from the confusion that tore me up, day in and day out. In this imaginary world of mine I was the popular kid. the more I started getting aloof the more I tended to smoke.
Soon I found another way out of my misery. It was easier and way cheaper than smoking. I began slashing myself with sharp objects. Razors, shards for glass, medicine flaps, straightened stapler pins anything that could draw blood. I liked the sight of my own own blood. It kinda relaxed my frayed nerves. In this context two things are really important. Firstly, I did not cut myself to die. I had tendency towards self harm, but I was not suicidal. Secondly, I always tried to cut myself in some obscure place where no one would see. I often cooked up cover stories for my visible cuts to avoid a scene.
I had realised that I liked girls as well as boys. This was a big shock to someone who has been brought up with 'traditional Indian values'. Values Schmalues! Heck I was struggling to accept myself as a bisexual. Torn between the constant denial and guilt, I found myself in an all girls' school from a co-ed school. I became the 'unaccommodated man',err bisexual. I was The Outsider. Honestly it was tough for me to accept so many changes in such a short time. I became the socially awkward sore thumb. I was angry..angry with my over-protective parents, my well adjusted classmates, all the beautiful girls with the perfect figure and those with the perfect grades..or so I thought. In reality I was angry with myself. I hated everything about me..the way I looked, walked, talked..every single thing.. Often the anger felt really weird as I felt kinda happy and angry at the same time. I felt really really excited, almost high. At other times I was down in the dumps. I found it hard to cope up with my ever changing moods. I took up smoking, more as a diversion from the drama that happened inside my head all the time. I became more and more disconnected with reality and started living in my imaginary world, with imaginary friends. It was my respite from the confusion that tore me up, day in and day out. In this imaginary world of mine I was the popular kid. the more I started getting aloof the more I tended to smoke.
Soon I found another way out of my misery. It was easier and way cheaper than smoking. I began slashing myself with sharp objects. Razors, shards for glass, medicine flaps, straightened stapler pins anything that could draw blood. I liked the sight of my own own blood. It kinda relaxed my frayed nerves. In this context two things are really important. Firstly, I did not cut myself to die. I had tendency towards self harm, but I was not suicidal. Secondly, I always tried to cut myself in some obscure place where no one would see. I often cooked up cover stories for my visible cuts to avoid a scene.
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