I'm Such A Horrible Person. I'm A Terrible Fucking Person. I Feel No Emotional Connection To Anybody,

yo, why does a particular form of oppression have to "hurts everyone in some way or the other" - for people who’re not the primary targets/victims to talk about it 🙄

not everything affects everyone, that doesn't make something less real or less important. experiences don't have to be universal to be talked about. homophobia doesn't hurt straight people, yes, it might inconvenience them in some way, but they don't *face* homophobia, similarly so with other forms of oppression~

it doesn't have to affect you personally for you to care about it.

would you still love and respect me if I destroy my body? would you still love and respect me if I didn't get out of bed or move? would you still love and respect me if I did not contribute to society and perform productivity? would you still love and respect me if I harmed myself through alcohol, blades, food and/or drugs? would you still love and respect me if I were unhealthy and didn't do anything about it? would you still love and respect me unconditionally if i were a broken down building on a dark, gloomy street that was once a lovely neighborhood with parks and joy? would you still visit? would you still love and respect me if i didn't take care of myself? why do you love me? would you respect me if the only thing I can do is love?

I make homes of places. I make homes of cafes with soft lightning, reading nooks, and faceless people. I make homes of the narrow, empty corridors in second-hand book shops housing hardcovers with creases. I make homes of strangers sitting opposite to me on the over-night train going home, talking about travel and the story behind Don’t Stop Believing. I make homes of all the terraces I walk on, indentations of my feet on once empty spaces.

I don’t like it. I don’t like that when I leave, parts of myself are left behind. I don’t like that my mind hangs on to the feeling of nostalgia the way moss covers trees. I don’t like that my attachments are fleeting. I don’t like that I cannot put down my roots anywhere because change is the only thing that is permanent, and trees can’t move, they just keep shaking. I don’t like that I remember feelings. I don’t like things that are intangible. I don’t like what I cannot see, because people don’t believe you when you say you see shadows of things that aren’t touchable, hear music that isn’t recordable.

I want to be a palm tree. I want to live on a beach. I want to be so sturdy; the sands of time won’t change me. I want to settle down so deep, storms and waves won’t move me. I want to be a tree house, my own home, made of myself, made of my blood and skin and bones, so that from people, places and paroxysms of nostalgia I remain free. I want to stop leaving pieces of myself like breadcrumbs for heartbreak; I want to start collecting what I have already lost, the way the sea reclaims shells, the way birds return to their trees. I want to be whole again, but I am simply living kintsugi.

  -kpm ©

Function and Mechanism of Patriarchy in the Play

Before beginning my essay, I would like to add a warning, since it talks about matters that might be triggering to some - such as sexual harassment and rape.

Everything, from the clothes we wear to the work we do is gendered; the way we talk, the way we sit, what we study, what we don't study is all gendered. Gender roles and norms dictate our actions, define our personality and act as a moral rulebook for the society. All this is supported and perpetuated by a system of oppression, widely common and sadly normalised by all of us. Patriarchy, to put simply, is - "a system of society or government in which men hold the power and women are largely excluded from it"; it ranges from sexist microaggressions, such as jokes about how women belong in the kitchen and how women can't drive, to violent misogynistic acts such as female foeticide and honor killings.

Girls are taught to be quiet, to not talk until spoken to, to make their presence unknown and to shrink themselves to fit into society, so that they grow up to "wife material". The conditioning they undergo since childhood grooms them to be the "perfect wife" - obedient, subservient and aquiscent. But marriage is nothing but a patriarchal system created to benifit men and suppress women. Dowry deaths are far too common in our country, and even though it is supposedly illegal, people still demand for dowry. This becomes a reason for families to consider girl children a burden which results in female foeticide and infanticide. What is heartbreaking is the fact that women are made to believe that they're at fault for giving birth to a girl child, they're forced to believe that they themselves are a burden to their family and thus, their daughters are too.

Domestic abuse and marital rape are forms of violence that millions of women face daily after moving in with their husband. What is not surprising, but extremely disappointing is the fact that marital rape is still not recognised as a crime, as rape, by the Indian constitution. As if the possibility of women filing false cases against their husband has to be given more consideration than the torture women are forced to go through daily, as if men deserve more protection from false rape cases than the women who're survivors of marital rape. In olden times, what defined the status of a man, or what proved his masculinity was the control he held over his 'zan' (woman) and the 'zamin' (land), both which were considered his property. The same mindset has continued to the present times, in the sense that after marriage, women are considered property of their husband, she has no body autonomy, no right to consent, and since anything done to a person's own property isn't considered a crime, marital rape isn't considered a crime because wives are nothing but objects used to satisfy their husband's needs.

In 'Kamala', we see how angry Jaisingh gets when Sarita tells him to stop his sexual advances. He calls her derogatory terms because according to him, since she was his wife, it was her duty to have sex with him. Jaisingh doesn't consider his wife an equal, she is not treated with any respect, instead she's treated like a personal assistant, an unpaid personal assistance who exists only to obey and serve him. She is nothing more than a trophy wife, someone whom he shows off like a prize at parties and then treat like an object at home. For all his talk about exposing the sex trafficking industry and saving those women, he doesn't treat his wife much better than a slave. The hypocrisy is astounding.

Kakasaheb is no better. When Sarita talks to him about her plans to expose her husband because she can no longer stand to be treated that way, her uncle tells her that he's a man, and thus, it's normal for him to act that way - it's her responsibility to adjust, sacrifice and obey. He even proudly talks about how he ill-treated his own wife because of his male ego, seeing absolutely nothing wrong with how men treat their wives, but seeing something very wrong in the way Sarita wants to stand up for herself.

The way Jaisingh treats his maid, Kamalabhai is a different story, extremely disrespectful and cocky. When we talk about the patriarchy, it's impertinent that we talk about how the patriarchy oppresses women of different social standings differently. Kamala is oppressed in a certain way which is different from the way Kamalabhai is oppressed and different from the way Sarita is oppressed. The way domestic workers are treated in Indian households is shameful and disgusting. Nivedita Menon, in her book, 'Seeing Like A Feminist' states that, "The callousness of the Indian middle classes towards their ‘servants’ outdoes the worst excesses of feudalism. The polite term ‘domestic help’ that has replaced the word ‘servant’ in public usage is perniciously misleading. Make no mistake—these are servants. They are treated as less than human, less than pet animals. Apart from facing physical and sexual abuse—which is common—domestic workers perform heavy unrelenting toil, for they have no specific work hours if live-in; no days off or yearly vacations if part-time. Not to mention the routine humiliation that is their due. Several times now, I have noticed in Delhi restaurants the truly appalling sight of young women who are clearly maids in charge of toddlers, standing throughout the meal that their employers are consuming, ready to take charge of the baby at any point, and not being offered so much as a glass of water."

When Kakasaheb tells Jaisingh that he'll drink his tea along with Sarita so that Kamalabhai wouldn't have to do double the work, Jaisingh brushes it away and tells him that it's Kamalabhai's job to serve them - he has absolutely no concern for her wellbeing. He is a sexist, classist chauvinist who cares only about his name and his fame.

Partriachy doesn't just effect housewives and domestic workers, it effects working women too. The glass ceiling and the wage gap aren't myths, contrary to popular sexist claims. The percentage of women in STEM related subjects is very low, not because their brain is wired in a different way or because they're incapable of logical thinking, but because their entire life they've been made to believe that they are not good enough for the STEM field. Add onto it the discrimination they face by men in their workplace, and its no wonder many women who were toppers discontinue or not go for work at all. Sexual harassment at their workplace is another huge problem women face. Male employers many a time force female employees to do them "favors" for a promotion, threatening them with the possibility of getting fired if they don't listen. In the entertainment/film industry, the casting couch is a looming threat.

Apart from the discrimination they face at their workplace, women also face a lot of discrimination and set backs on their way - the 'mommy track' which Nivedita Menon talks about in her book, refers to when a woman sets apart the most productive years in her life to look after her children, which results in a slower career track upwards. The onus of looking after the children is put on the mother and the father plays absolutely no role. This is harmful not only to the women, but also to the men, since this is why in most divorce cases, the mother gets custody of the children, even if she's incompetent simply because she's a woman and looking after the children is considered her responsibility.

On the other side of the coin, this puts pressure on women to be mothers, it tells women that being a mother is all that you're good at, so that's what you must become, it is your duty, you get no choice. So even those who aren't fit to be mothers and those who don't want to be mothers, are forced to have children solely because they're women and its considered a women's job.

Kamala pities Jaisingh when Sarita tells her that she's unable to have children. She says that Jaisingh invested a lot in her, but he's not getting much in return. Her point of view is understandable since that was the kind of mindset she was exposed to her entire life. But unfortunately, today's urban society shares a similar mindset. If a couple can't have children, shame on the woman and oh, no, poor man.

Toxic masculinity is another aspect of the patriarchy and of the book. Men are expected to be brutes, they're expected to be insensitive, egotistical people who act as the head of household. Otherwise, they're considered incompetent husbands. Toxic masculinity takes a toll on men and women, mostly because the pressure it puts on men is taken out on the women. We see that in Jaisingh and Kakasaheb's treatment of their wives.

Rape culture being another. Rape culture doesn't refer to a culture in which a lot of rapes take place, but it refers to a culture which normalizes and sexual violence. Not considering marital rape rape is rape culture; catcalling and eve teasing women and girls is rape culture; blaming women for being sexually assaulted by telling them its wcause they were dressing provocatively is rape culture; the belief that men cannot be raped since they're stronger than women is rape culture, and the belief that if a man were to be sexually harassed, he must have enjoyed it since all men are considered to be sexual beings is rape culture; telling a gay person or an asexual person that they can be "turned straight" through violent sex is rape culture.

Patriarchy and Brahmanical Patriarchy go hand in glove. Sati was a practice introduced by Brahmans. Honor killing of women to protect her "purity" and "dignity" was also a practice introduced by Brahmanical patriarchy. Women who're SC, ST or OBC face a triad of oppression - for their caste and their gender, that is a result of Brahmanical patriarchy. For casteism to end, it's cardinal that so does Brahmanical patriarchy, which unfortunately isn't considered an actual issue by most mainstream, savarna feminists.

When we talk about patriarchy, it's all these major things and the microaggressions together. It's when brothers are given an extra fish and sisters are made to clean up after their brother, it's when "boys will be boys" is a scapegoat for men, but "you're a woman/girl, so act like one" puts unnecessary pressure on women to live up to a certain societally constructed standard, it's when heterosexuality is considered compulsory and normal for the purpose of passing on the family name and property and its when the honor of the family is placed on the shoulders of a young girl.

When feminists talk about "smashing the patriarchy", they're referring to dismantling the entire system so that none of these oppressive practices exist. So that we can live in a world where there is equity and justice, where there is no discrimination - a utopian world which unfortunately, cannot be reached anytime soon.

Warning for mention of abuse and wanting to die :

I used to be an abusive friend when I was in 5th/6th grade. My friends used to always replace me with new friends, I'd always be left being, always the second choice, sometimes never the choice during my younger ages, so when I formed friendships and best friends in 4th/5th/6th and so on, I used to be a bad friend. I would pinch and threaten and hurt my best friend saying that she couldn't be best friends with someone else if she still wanted to be friends with me; I'd throw a tantrum and lose my temper at almost my entire class if they didn't play games the way I wanted during P.E; I used to lose my temper quickly and yell and shout and even get violent when I couldn't deal with my emotions; my memory is so messed up right now, but I remember that my mother used to have issues with my paternal grandma and she would take out her anger and emotions out on me when I was a child. She once destroyed a fancy pen my dad bought for me - who used to be at work a lot of the time - and I screamed and yelled and gosh, it was horrible. My grandparents used to say that I was the most disobedient child they'd ever met and that they wished they were rather dead than see me; my uncle once told me that he'd rather have anyone else as his niece/nephew rather than me. And people used to make all these comments which were super hurtful and I used to be scolded so much by everybody and being a disobedient child, everyone was angry at me at one point or the other. I used to be criticized for my voice, because it's a little high pitched and my family would scold me and mock me and keep telling me to stop speaking like a baby, they'd also scold me for tiny tiny things and make super harsh comments.

I guess everything together, like water droplets forming an ocean, messed up my emotions.

The only reason I'm saying the following is because I'm anonymous and the guilt is killing me, making me feel like I deserve to die and deserve to be abused and deserve nothing good and I feel sick - I used to take my anger out when I was in the first grade, 6 years or so, on my pet dog. I used to pull his tail and ears and sometimes hit him and fuck fuck fuck fuck, I I can't. Ididn't know how to deal with emotions, all I knew was how to explode and I'd take out my emotions on my dog and I've been feeling guilty and sick and absolutely disgusted at myself for the past years and I feel like I should hurt myself to make up for the hurt I caused him and every time anyone mentions him- we were super close otherwise, he was my bestest best friend - I feel like crying and punishing myself. My heart aches and my tummy clenchesclenches and fuck, I can't. Please please please please forgive me, please let me tell me how to atone for this please please please somebody. I wrote a letter apologising and kept in in his grave when he passed away, I still can't help but sob when I think about him and I'm sobbing as I'm typing this because I love him so much so so so so much and I showed him love, but I also hurt him and he must feel so betrayed so confused that somebody who loves him and who he loved hurt him and my heart feels like it's being torn open and hot lava is being poured inside.

Anyway, um, my bpd...

There are so many things, so I'll just type it out in bullet points (warning for mention of self harm and suicidal ideation) :

1. Not being able to express certain emotions properly because they're labeled as "negative/toxic" and are seen as a trademark of people with BPD, such as jealousy or anger. So I have to try extra hard to portray anything close to these emotions because I don't want to be seen as manipulative or toxic.

2. Feeling like having a mental breakdown at the TINIEST things - even a small criticism, or a small, passing harsh comment could ruin my day and make me want to self harm. Sometimes even results in suicidal ideation.

3. Feeling so numb, all the time. Feeling like there's no motivation to do anything. Feeling like I need somebody to tell me what to do, to make me do stuff all the time. The feeling of emptiness, hollowness sucks and I rarely feel any emotion completely.

4. Feeling like I hate somebody and that I don't need them in my life (even if I cognitively know it's untrue) if they say something that wasn't what I wanted to hear, or wasn't the right thing to say, or if it was a passing remark. That feeling of betrayal and that they never loved me or understood in the first place, that they don't care about me. The feeling that people are temporary and replaceable and disposable which has formed as a defense mechanism.

5. Intense emotions, oh gosh, sometimes I "overreact" for the tiniest things and have outbursts which I regret and don't even make sense later on. A deep rage fills me and my head just wipes out and I don't even realise what's coming out of my mouth, I can't think before I speak, or wait before I type.

6. The guilt, fuck, the guilt. It makes me feel like a horrible person and it consumes me and I feel like I need to punish myself, I deserve to not be loved because of the kind of person I am.

7. The jealousy and possessiveness. Not only over people, but over pets and toys and other things too, such as favorite books and actors and characters and songs. I don't know if this possessiveness (this feeling of they're my safe thing/person etec) is a symptom of bpd.

I was fourteen when I first read 50 Shades of Grey, or as Catherine Scott puts it — that book. What I appreciate most about it is not the spank-bank material it gave me, but the world it introduced me to; the hole that took me to my own wonderland. As my kink journey - in theory, mind you - progressed, I discovered aspects of myself I don’t think even therapy would’ve helped me access; the way I needed to be loved, the way I needed to be taken care of, the way I needed to feel small to grow, the way I needed to give myself over to reclaim autonomy.

Kink took me to regression, regression to self-awareness, and self-awareness to a yearning I sometimes cannot contain inside my body because of how large and all-consuming it is, how much space it occupies, and how it swallows me whole, especially on my worse days.

The question “how could non-sexual kink possibly be therapeutic?” has many, many answers; it is the hope I get when I imagine how I would no longer have to be responsible for myself; the relief I feel, knowing that someone wants the best for me, and letting them take over my entire being would help keep me alive; the knowledge that even though I am capable of taking care of myself, it is too much of a burden, too much of a leach sucking my battery, and so I choose to give it away, pass it over.

Someone who would squeeze my thigh, and tap it twice to indicate I need to lower my voice in public spaces, instead of an explicit “reduce your volume”, inadvertently triggering my rejection sensitivity dysphoria; someone who would wrap me up in a blanket and make me tea, cuddling me, crushing my body, until I come back from an episode; someone to make sure I can do the things I want to do, that inhibition due to my executive dysfunction wouldn’t make me a completely useless person; someone whose idea of what is best for me is my idea of what’s best for me; someone who would take care of me, when it hurts too much to take care of myself; someone I trust enough to kneel in front of because I feel shame choking me when I imagine myself submitting to anyone else; someone who chooses to stay; someone I can be a child with without fear of annoyance or judgement; someone I can be awkward with, weird with, loud with; someone whose rationality never hinders or limits their emotionality; someone to give me a healthy alternative to the unsafe pain my coping mechanism provides; someone to provide the sensation of hurt without causing me harm; someone whom I feel safe with even while constrained, blindfolded, all senses switched off; someone to gently squeeze my neck when my thoughts are too loud; someone to take over conversations when I face a sudden bout of energy loss; someone whose energy is dominating, all-encompassing; someone who would be my advocate, my shield, and sword; someone gentle, someone soft, someone who would never let me give up on myself.

Regression ≠ kink, for myself.

-kpm ©

Yep

Just a thought.

I think that one of the worst things a family member could ask a child going to therapy is if they're "honest with their therapist" - not because they genuinely want them to be honest with their therapist, but because they don't want a stranger to judge what the child could possibly be telling them about their family or other issues. In other words : "are you truthful with your therapist?" = "are you sure you're not telling him (my therapist is a cis man, so) biased things which put you in a positive light and us in a negative light, thereby manipulating him to say things that are convenient for you, and choose your side whatever you tell him?"; which thereby results in my mind going -" ohmy gosh, what if you've tricked your therapist into thinking you're a/an good/okay person, when you're a burden and you're ungrateful and a bad child and you trouble your family, what if you tricked him into thinking that you deserve his kind words when you actually don't and what if you actually are painting everyone else in a bad light and yourself as a victim-", because my self esteem is even lower than my sense of humor. so yeah, fuck that shit.

me, @ the updated version of wattpad : 🎶 this house don't feel like home 🎶

WHEN IS IT GOJHN YO GET BETTER?! WHEN THE FUCK WILL IT GET BETTER

I can't handle this oh my gosh so much pain, I can't fucking handle this it hurts so so so so much I feel like I want to I want to die eventhough I'm not suicidal

Pleasepleaseplessepleasepleaee oh gosh it hurts so much fuck fu kfu K fuck