Guilty Eating Not Guilty Eating | Shrink Tales

When i spoke to Ish regarding the previous session, i was surprised that she didn't take up my fantasies regarding the cut on my foot or my relationship with her. She instead grabbed on to the very fleeting mention of my cooking and eating which made me think that was important. Professionally important, something that had to be spoken about in a therapy session where it was mentioned.

She then asked me to do something i have often asked me lovers to do. To tell a story. Not any story. Tell the story of something you did. So like i would ask these puzzled men who had no clue what was in my head when i asked them to 'tell the story of the time you slept off while talking to me on phone,' Ish asked me to tell the story of how i had bought fish, cooked and ate it. I was reluctant. Even when i told the story i did so without much sincerity. With my lovers, i did these to collect moments, to let them know that insignificant things were significant to me, that they mattered because it was about a person i loved a lot. When i narrated the fish cooking story i realised that i had already collected that as an event in my head. I was surprised that i did not feel guilty when i narrated it. That was remarkable because i have not thought about food, any kind of food, without the feeling of guilt in years.

I told how i ate my fill and did not feel guilty of having eaten it. On the other hand, at night, i had felt guilty of eating some oreos. Ish suggested that maybe my guilt was regarding the kind of food. The kind of food i could not control, over which i had not control made me feel bad. If a packet of oreos was kept on my bed, like how Han had done, it got to decide. I had no choice but to eat. My fish curry was not like that. I had chosen to eat it and ate what i wanted, it tasted exactly like the meal i had craved for and did not leave me wanting for more. But then it also had a lot to do with the fact that my weight check after two days of fish eating did not show a bad number. [Adjectives used for weight, appearance etc, in these notes will be the normalised ones used my popular culture because here i am a victim of it.)

Food like oreo was also linked to a period of weight gain for me, the time when Mother had left for Chennai and i could buy my own food for two weeks. I bought all kinds of things from confectionery shops and stuffed myself with it. At the end of two weeks, people started telling me that i had put on weight - the most dreaded sentence in my life that could instantly topple all happiness and make me feel like a garbage can.

I wonder how i would feel regarding my dal and rice meal. I really like what i make but will i be able to have it in the same way i had my fish curry meal? Will find out in the coming week i guess. In the evening the same fish and rice made me feel guilty when i gobbled up some fish pieces with a little gravy before giving it up and throwing it in the bin. I throw a lot of things in the bin if i sense that i liked eating it. Sometimes i have imagined a situation where i ate out of the trash can because i just couldn't help it and have felt completely helpless and humiliated. 

Did not feel good about eating upma in the week. I remember telling myself that whatever you do, you cannot ever eat three meals in a day. Just so that i don't forget that basic rule of my body.

As a part of trying to get me to work properly, she asked me to eat properly. I felt betrayed. She told me that my eating problem was not about food but about abuse. I felt sad, the way i feel sad when she and she alone says such things to me. Did she think i had not given these things a thought? She wanted to change all of this in a day? Did she really think that telling me that my therapist said things she had been telling me for ages, and she asking me to have a time table would solve all my problems?

I cried a lot, feeling betrayed.

And then the next day, after i submitted the video, she tried to tell me that it was not about solving things in a day. That she was trying to push me. Give me that extra push to make me want to get out of illness. I told her that i was doing that in therapy. But as usual, there was one thing that she said that struck me.

She asked me why i would not eat normal. I told her that that would result in depression, the kind i had to go through in Calcutta at one point of time. She then said that that was where the difference lay. Now, i was seeking professional help. There is a support system. So depression can be dealt with in a different way. That possibility made me a little hopeful. But i didn't dwell on it because i felt that would make me eat properly.

She also tried to talk to me about smoking. Asked me when i had started smoking. She told me that she knew i wasn't someone who thought my creative juices wouldn't flow without nicotine or marijuana or alcohol, but i definitely thought of these things - smoking, cutting body, eating poorly as support systems i could fall back on. With cigarettes, the support system concept might have waned but the addiction remained. The physicality called addiction.

We spoke about families. She agreed with me when i said that to be loved was a privilege. Broken families and other factors that resulted in a lack of support system made people like me seek smoking or abuse. We all deserve love but some of us have to work hard for it.

Ate out with Han. Guilty. 

Like Seeing Blood | Shrink Tales

I had not written the notes from the previous therapy. It had been a busy week. Being around the farmers, marching all the way from their homes to Bombay, in thousands, spending a night and a day with them - it made me feel alive.

The previous session was the one in which i had got scared that Ish would succeed in making me hate her. I had also told her that i was saying that to feel less responsible in case that happened. When i saw that Ish had noted this remark, i became aware of it. I felt guilty.

We had spoken about Sister in the previous session. Ish said that she noticed that i had written to sister that our relationship was important for her also. I saw it when Ish invited my attention to it. That was me trying to assure myself that she needed me as much as i needed her. Ideally, that was not required for love. A relationship can work only if both the people intend to make it work. When Ish said that, i felt a little sad, it could mean that we might never be together again, Sister and i.

I told Ish i had plans. I do. I am still working on them. Mother should be asked to join. Family should perhaps be the glue to be applied to broken families.

I should go back to making notes on therapy sessions on the same day. It is becoming difficult to remember.

I remember Ish pointing out how 'She' had power over me. I hated it that it was always she who got to decide things. When to talk, how long to talk. She could leave anytime. Now that i am working for her, i am always getting scolded by her. And sometimes it hurts. I cry a lot. Then resolve not to talk to her every again. But do. Of course i talk to her.

There is something i said to her in the past one week that i felt really bad about. Not about saying it to her but because it was true. I told her that i didn't report to her about going to IIT because i was scared that she would convince me not to go. She told me you missed opportunities due to work and i said no to a talk in another place in Bombay. It is true that one cannot take time out of work to do their stuff. But i feel i can, because it is her.


During the week, the glass breaking on my foot. For a moment, that feeling of watching blood gush out. Like really gush out - it never gushes out like that when you try to slit your vein. Because we are cowards who get scared of the thin skin over there. The visible veins.

When blood was gushing out of me, and i was feeling faint, more than how much i feel faint when i try to slit my wrists, i wondered what would happen if i didn't do anything. If a vein had got cut and i was just to sit there, Vai Vow would be back only much later. Days later. Han would come late at night. Would it have made the job easy for me? It hurt me when i thought of that.

Like, that sadness that i had when i returned from the hospital in Calcutta after the attempt in 2015, this cloud casting a dark shadow on your eyelids saying you know how it is that you are going to end - it took me there for a split second. Then, bleeding subsided and i got to understand the cut and see that vein was fine.

I decided not to tell Vai Vow because he would worry. I shot a film with all that blood i got. But today (15th March, 2018) i blurted it out to Mummy. Yesterday i'd told inji. At least, there i have the excuse that i was actually in pain and couldn't work so had to tell her that. But with Mummy, i did that because i wanted to feel cared for. At the expense of her peace of mind. Felt so ashamed after cutting the call. Next time, try harder. Oh yeah, Mother told Vai Vow and he got worried and called me so i felt even more miserable.

Such things make me feel different from Inji and like a needy child. Every time i imagine what inji would do. She wouldn't have told anyone. Appachan didn't tell Amma when he fell and wounded himself. And that was such a lovely relationship. Inji does not take sick leaves and goes through pain. Then i feel disappointed with myself.

Wrote Sister another mail with this in the body.

'You are very important to me. This relationship is very important to me whether or not it's like that for you. So i will keep trying to get you back. It is only natural.'

I should stop worrying about my relationship with my partner. I start worrying every time i am around Han, like now. I don't like that feeling.

Inji told me that i worked like men. I expected other people to clean up after me. That was true, that was what happened when i missed shifts and didn't do stories on time. She compared me with men like Deep who gave me a hard time by not cleaning up after themselves. If that was what i was doing to her, i really had to stop it. Trying. Not succeeding much but trying.

I felt good about making fish curry and eating all of it and not gaining weight.

Two Women on a Boat | Shrink Tales

I felt relieved when Ish said that she had not abandoned my food problem as i had doubted in my previous session. It's so complex - this conflict that i face. I am too scared to address it but if my therapist as much as hints that she might not address it, i start panicking. The problem is very similar to the problem. Like how i know how violent fat shaming is but i will keep doing that to myself.

But what surprised me was that it would be linked to Sister. I had thought if they were related when Ish introduced Sister into the session. But she took me by surprise when she said that the whole thing had its origin in Sister. 'Oh!' i exclaimed. Ish said that it was lying bare over there, all the facts required to piece the puzzle together. I couldn't see it though. I still can't, to a large extent. That probably means i don't like the idea that it had its origin in Sister.

But it sounded true when Ish spelt it out for me, reminded me how i wanted to look like her, my first memory of fat shaming comments is from this nun who asked me if i was eating all the food Mother made and not giving Sister her share. Oh did i tell you that i get confused between Sister's and my handwriting? That's because i studied hers and copied it so that mine looks exactly like hers. I did not forsee the difficulty it would create later for myself to tell between the two. Feeling secretly happy that that was how it was.

From the previous session, what had shocked me like anything was me making an awful drawing when i was asked to make one on my relationship with Sister. (I'd drawn her slitting my wrist and had said that Sister was helping me die when Ish asked me what it was.) It's not the possible explanation that Ish gave that blew my mind. It was that action of me drawing it. I had not gone there knowing she would ask me to draw anything. And then i drew something and i was told that it possibly meant something that was relevant to me and then when i thought that i had drawn something that made Ish say that, that still kind of gives me a jolt. Well, i was in for more.

Oh i again forgot why i make the sister character die in all my films. Is it because i don't want to think of it? And why on earth do i keep forgetting this tiny piece!

Ish again asked me to draw what i felt about our relationship. And yet again, i produced a drawing that i did not even know existed in me. I really felt i was acting in a horror movie. There is no explanation to why i drew Sister and me on a boat and then the boat capsizing and me hanging on to the top of the side that's up in the air and Sister almost fully in water hanging dangerously at the sinking end of the boat.

When Ish talked looking at that picture, i was overwhelmed with a mix of joy and disbelief. This sublimated to tenderness in some time. She told me that it could indicate that i thought the broken relationship between her and me is affecting her more than it was affecting me. Truer words had not been spoken. From that point i started feeling like what i imagine mother hens feel. Or human mothers feel. Like spreading my wings so that Sister could feel safe under it. I remembered how i always felt she was so alone, how i didn't particularly like any of her friends, how she is all alone, so far away from me, with all that hatred denying her my love. As these emotions surged in my mind, a very definite answer emerged out of it. I should speak with her.

Of course, i am scared that she is going to hurt me again. But her end of the boat was sinking and i couldn't care less about my clothes getting wet if i tried to help her.

The drawing also could be displaying how i consider our relationship to be a strong balancing thing in my life and hers. (Back home, i couldn't but help resist the thought that it was again a weight thing - two people on a boat trying to keep it steady - the balance also comes from the weight of the bodies.)

I started preparing for the call and imagining possibilities while i was in therapy. I did not have any hope that we would be normal again. The relief and happiness was more from the fact that i had made up my mind to not let it be. I had seen her drowning so i will forever look for a buoy.

I called her much before i thought i would.

Said she picked up because she thought something happened to mummy and cut the call.
I felt good hearing her voice though.
I think i should use another line the next time. Who asks 'are you okay?' anyway!

Mother was really very happy when i told her that i had called Sister. She asked me what she said. I told her that she picked up because she thought something had happened to Mother. We laughed at this. It was funny, it sounded like she preferred 'something happening to Mother' than a call i made to her just to ask how she was.

During therapy, while i was imagining the possible responses that Sister would give me, i was already imagining her taking offence that i called her not because i felt it but because it came up during therapy. Ish then asked me why i would mention that at all. It was me trying to evade responsibility. Yes, that sounded true.

But i just want to know who is drawing these pictures!

Sister Shocker Picture | Shrink Tales

So in the previous session, when i read my 'reflections,' Ish observed that it was the first time i had not carried the session with me. I told her that i was trying to do what she had asked me to. Recording my feelings every time i checked weight. That was there, she said, but it was like i was refusing to think of the session during the week. That was true. Usually the week goes by with me thinking of all that was said in the previous session and consciously devoting time to it. This time, for the first time, i had not done that. That session was lost.

I sensed that it was a very difficult area - my eating and i was resisting it with all my might. Yet, when Ish asked me about my sister, before thinking of her, i thought if Ish was giving up on my eating problem. I have come to realize that there is a small part of me who is also seeking help, so that one was kind of waving at me saying 'don't abandon me!'

I comforted myself saying it could be that there were thin threads connecting my sister problem with my food problem or that Ish intended to come back to it later.

But i should say that the session that followed after i was asked to speak of my sister shocked the hell out of me. I had given up on our relationship. Repeated attempts at mending it had failed. There was absolutely no hope. Sister expected me to apologise for calling her abusive and a lot many names. I wasn't going to do that. In spite of all that, i didn't think that it was useless talking about her. She has been a big part of me. It can't be erased. It saddens me deeply that things have come to this, a break up, a thing that we had vowed to resist as children. Well, i was a child. She was a teenager. We have seven years between us - the reason why i think i am an unplanned pregnancy.

So i told Ish that i always felt that Mother loved me more than she loved Sister. I was angry with Mother for that. I wanted her to love Sister the same. I felt guilty for the things only i got to have because by the time my childhood started, the financial condition of the family had improved a bit. So Sister never got to attend painting classes or chess coaching or basketball training, violin lessons and join Guides (girl scouts - be prepared). I got to do all that and like a spoiled brat i gave up all of those things midway. I had the luxury to, when she never even had the opportunity. I still feel bad and guilty about it all.

Ish asked me how i felt about Sister now. I have always been scared of her. I am still scared of her. I told Ish that. She asked me to draw what i felt about Sister now. Some photographs from the past came to my mind. One in which we are on our haunches, looking at the camera, in that house where Father died. One in which i still had curly hair and was pinching the life out of Sister's face. I was a baby. But all that was long ago. I gave up trying to draw one of those photographs. Ish said that she would like it that i drew what i felt now, about Sister. Without thinking much, i drew a wrist that was being slit with a knife. I clarified that it Sister who was cutting my wrist to help me.

I have no idea why i drew that. It scares me shitless that that is what i drew. It was so violent. Where on earth did that come from! It wasn't that bad, Ish said. I had made clear that Sister was helping me die. It could be that, i thought that the way in which Sister was helping me wasn't very good. I don't know. No one is helping anyone now and i am still wondering why my picture turned out to be like that.

In fact, i now think that i need to take care of Sister and help her. I only wanted to be like her when i was little. Not just little. Till the time i questioned her some years ago. Now i want to help her and only want to be like inji now. Maybe that's why Sister doesn't like me or inji anymore. Sigh.

I remember recalling instances where she joined forces with mother to turn against me. The one time i opened the door for her and she slapped me out of worry. I had not been answering calls and it had led both Mother and her to believe that i was dead.

The time when Sister and Mother read my diary and found out about my not so nice relationships. That's putting it mildly. It was all abusive but my family didn't know how to deal with it. I have no anger or hard feelings against them for that. That's how bad we are, as a race in dealing with abuse and trauma. Even the best people have no clue how to handle it.

I remember that as the first time i ever found courage to hit Sister back. I had done that with Mother a lot, perhaps because the frequency was much higher, of her beating me. But with Sister i could never even imagine raising my hand on her. I never understood why she sided up with Mother in believing that i was a disgusting slut who smoked.

I have gradually come to believe that we might die - Sister and i - without talking again. I am getting used to it, like how i prepared myself for Appachan's death. I am not sad that she hates me. It's only natural given the amount of utterly disgusting opinions i shared with her about herself.

I observed that i always took care to kill the 'Sister;' in my films. From the time i was doing plays in high school to now, it has been like that. I forgot what Ish said the reason could be. 

I am, however eager to find out if i will get some insight into our relationship through therapy. As shocking as it was to draw that picture, i do hope that maybe i will be able to see things through another prism.