The Varanasi Heebie Geebies

 I need to meditate, but somehow I can't manage to get myself to the cushion.

I have given up chocolate,and somehow taken up smoking.

I was coming into acceptance of my body, but now I obsess about not looking beautiful enough, and film myself dancing, semi naked, to see if I can appease this self loathing.

This picture has only made the loathing worse. Those who go for refuge to beauty, end up feeling ugly! 

I had found some peace, and now I am overwhelmed by anxiety.

I need to come back to myself, and this morning I feel like I don't know how. So I have decided to write. 

I am attempting to find some control over my experience. I am very happy in Varanasi, I love it here. But I am also engulfed by something that I can't quite manage to shake off. I think I need to mediate, or sleep, or stop. What I need to stop I don't know. I'm blown around in a typhoon, partly wishing to be at home in London, in my bedroom, looking over the green garden and hearing the movements of my housemates shuffling though the house, the familiar trips to the toilet, and the chanting from the shrine room above me, sometimes opening my heart, sometimes getting on my nerves. Another part of me feels overwhelmed at the idea of leaving on a train for dharamashala next Thursday, I don't want to leave. This is not the same feeling of being homesick that I have had so far on this journey. 

Next week I will be heading to the foothills of the Himalayas to attend a silent meditation retreat for ten days before meeting one of my dear friends Lloyd, who will travel with me for two weeks. I am longing for these moments to arrive, yet I am filled with fear by them. I think I need to cry, but I can't. Anxiety is rising. 

I am experiencing my reationship to men in a dark and heavy shadow. I'm sure this is what happens at home, but I have networks of friendships around me that I know and can, to a certain extent, trust. I also have my usual surroundings to distract myself, to keep me in check. Here, today, I feel like I am a burden to the city, to the people in it, and to the friends I have made. The lively, happy-go-lucky, spontaneous, cheeky cheeked part of me, so often commented on by people, is overshadowed by self consciousness. I know this is part of being In India and part of being on a transformative journey. But it's hard and I am grappling for ways to escape. I have moments of freedom, when I am dancing, when I am sunbathing, when I am engaged in something, but these last few days it's so very fragile and fleeting. It will pass, I tell myself. 

 

I look to other people around me for validation, in particular, men. I micromanage their every detailed response and tiny movements to confirm my worth. They look to the left as they talk to me, I immediately think they don't want me around. They smile into my eyes and I think they want to sleep with me. They look momentarily at me as I sit down, they must be in love with me. They say to me "so.......?" As if to indicate what happens next, I immediately think they want rid of me and make my excuses for a busy day ahead and leave. This is a tricky place to be, and I know I do exactly the same thing at home, I escape situations prematurely so that I can be absent before they abandon me. Or I hang on to a situation too tightly and out stay my welcome, ending in a deep sense of shame at my foolishness for misreading matters. No matter how much I write, reflect, do nothing, this feeling isn't passing. So I look closely and see if I can observe my actions and check in with my intentions. I sense I'm being too hard on myself, which isn't out of the ordinary for me. This is all I can do, look, sense, reflect, which I am struggling to accept. 

It will pass, it will pass. 

I want to be rescued, I want to be loved, I want to be accepted. And of course I know I am projecting this all outwards, and in fact no one can do this for me, but it's hard. I feel new emotions bubbling in my abdomen as I write this. This all consuming fear is slowly exposing some gaps for me to experience my sadness, lonliness, whatever it is. Perhaps I can go and meditate now, instead of picking up a cigarette (previously chocolate) to mask these feelings.

I will also go and find my friend ashley, a firm buddy in Varanasi, who's a gem and a half, and listens to an account of my obsessions daily. I will share with her that I have labelled this waffling, The Varanasi Heebie Geebies!