Foot in the Door : Shrink Tales

Recently, when i told someone that i was scared, they unanimously said that it was me trying to play with their emotions. I always wanted to be the victim in the story and therefore assigned myself the role of the scared, helpless woman in every situation i was in, in their opinion. And yet, the fear was real. Palpable. Amidst all the theories that people threw around me, it was in the air and i was always in the look out for a safe place.

Session after session, in therapy, i tried to find out what it was that scared me because the last time i told someone i was scared, that's what they wanted to know. 'What is it that you are scared of?' They'd asked me repeatedly - which made me even more scared. I pay - my poor sponsor does - Rs. 2000 for a session to find answers to such questions that people so casually spring on me. 'Hey, did it rain yesterday, in Calicut?' 'You got a haircut?' 'What's your fear?'. Hold on, give me Rs. 2000. I'll try and find out?

But today, i drew my fear. It was a boulder. A large one, with a stick in its hand. A lopsided mouth, shouting unintelligible sounds. Grey, like a rock. I joked about it after drawing it, saying how it was a classic phallic symbol. My therapist asked me what associations i had of my phallic symbol boulder shaped fear.

Two came to my mind, even as i drew it. One, from when the familiar scenario of me being beaten by mother for various reasons. I would hide under the cot when it got unbearable. Even as a child, i always felt that she never looked under there because she too, was tired of beating. I only ever felt compassion for her, even when i knew that my fear boulder had the lopsided mouth because she imitated me, making ugly shapes with her mouth, producing sounds that were supposedly how i talked and cried, but sounded so gross, it made me feel like shit.

The second one was that in a hotel room, it was not going well with that man. I had to get out of there. But you know what? Men are physically stronger than women. Science. A man my age and weight will be stronger than my physically. Reason why we have male - female criteria in sports for the same events. Different rules. Anyway, this man was more than double my age. He was strong. I unbolted the door and was about to flee. But he just swept in from nowhere and ever so casually put his foot at the door and that was it. I couldn't open it. However hard i tried, it wouldn't budge. And all he had to do was put his damn foot at the door. Effortless gesture. Lots of time to further beat me up, rape, if he felt like it, verbally abuse. A foot got him all that.

This was what it felt like. I was confined to spaces i didn't want to be in. Under the cot. In a pathetic hotel room. While i only felt compassion for mother, for the man and his foot, i felt pure rage. '

I was cornered. There was no help in sight and pretty soon, i would be able to hear the fear boulder spew out its opinions about me. It could be 'you sleep with older men because you like seasoned dicks' or 'all you are interested in class is how the asses of the boys sway' or, more recently, like i said, 'all you ever want to be is a helpless victim and that's why you say you are scared.' I didn't want to be under the cot or in the hotel room listening to these theories but you know, the foot.

The thing however, is that now, i am out of it. I always come out of it. The most recent episode took around two months, i suppose. It lingered till i sent a one liner mail saying what i wanted to say. Till then, i was under the cot. The others took years. But, i just want to tell everyone that you will always find a way out of under the cot, out of the stupid hotel room - if you work hard. If you are not able to get out of there, it only means that your two months or five years haven't passed. But the good thing about time is - like the bad thing about physiology is that men are stronger than women - that it can only pass. You can only grow older. The only people who are happy about aging, friends, are us, because it just takes us closer to our way out of under the cot.

Feminism Does Not Die During Sex: Be Careful What You Fetish For

she thought no one could see her

Why it is not Okay for him to ask if he can Come Between Your Breasts

Trigger Warning: Sexual assault

The topic is abuse but we will have to keep calling it sex (much like the Indian courts) for some time. What i am trying to do here is to explain through examples and logic and also feminism (i wrote that so that one half of the readers say ‘not again’ and leave.) how what are known as ‘fetishes’ or ‘preferences’ or ‘ugly/bad sex’ are all abuse.

It all started with the Babe article. The one that the Atlantic and the Washington Post decided they should take the time to rebuke. I was lying. It all started when i led a #metoo campaign in a famous film school in India where i was a student. I had been abused many times before that but that one time i had decided to fight it through ‘due process’. Everything that followed after that has had a huge role in my understanding of power, patriarchy, sexual harassment, abusive mentality, rape culture and the ‘Atlantists’ and ‘Postists’. This is the reason why, before going to my theory, i will state one thing because that is the most important of it all.

To the woman who wrote about the sexual assault by Aziz Ansari, (whom i’ll call Grace, the name in the Babe article,) you were absolutely right, and the rest of the world can go to hell.

Understanding People’s Response to Abuse

Every woman who has complained or come out as a victim or a survivor of sexual abuse has had to hear ‘liar,’ ‘attention seeker,’ ‘whore,’ ‘other variants of whore,’ ‘mad’ etc. from the general public. These are the standard responses of the vast majority of people who have no idea about sexual harassment or rape and are active participants of the rape culture. But in each of these cases, you will also see a group of people, male and female, who stand by the victim and use feminism to explain how the woman speaking up is an act of courage and that more women should do that. And quite surprisingly, women just decided to do that with the #metoo campaign. [Usually we put it off to be done after the other world changing idea that we have to try out.] All women came out as victims of sexual harassment because all women had been sexually harassed. The group of people who were always in support of lone voices were ecstatic and saw it as the beginning of something unique.

It was unique and it did change a lot of things. Hollywood shook under the revelations. It was all going well — relatively, it’s always relatively when it’s about sexual assault — till the time Grace said #metoo. Then, nobody even called her a liar. Everyone was really okay believing that her account of sexual assault had actually happened. They were just not ready to consider it sexual harassment. And most importantly, the group of people had changed. It was the male feminists, feminists of all gender who were only happy to support other victims of sexual harassment who expressed ‘shock’ that sexual preferences or fetishes or ‘ugly sex’ was being called rape culture. This was the most interesting part for me. Since when did women’s voices become so believable? And why were feminists saying that the incident was not assault and was sex? I mean, imagine a person who has criticized Indian judiciary’s stance on marital rape say that Ansari was just having sex.

The Experiment

 No one had a problem believing Grace because behaviour she wrote about is common in sex.

This led me to an experiment.

I did this on social media. I put up a list of things and asked people if they thought if all or any among them was sexual assault. I was hoping that my most favourite humans would not give answers that said sexual assault was sex but damn you, Muphy’s law, that’s just what happened. After getting over the pain of always being ahead of time, (sob sob) i moved on to analyse the answers and talk to more people. This was my post.

I asked if the following things asked by men in heterosexual sexual relationships were abuse or not.

1. Let me come (ejaculate) between your breasts.
 2. Swallow my semen.
 3. Drink my urine.
 4. Let’s have sex on train, open air, car, bus, terrace of hostel
 5. Do me a hand job in this movie theatre
 6. Want to watch your boyfriend having sex with you.
 7. Want to have sex with you when your boyfriend is having sex with you.
 8. Why didn’t you let me have [sex with] you when you were heavier?
 9. I want to put my phone in your vagina
 10. I want to fuck *the woman’s friend’s name* said while having sex with the woman.’

These were all actual things said and done by people. Some of it was done to me the rest to my friends — on all occasions, the demand(s) had been fulfilled by the women partners including me. I am quoting two of the responses.

‘2 and 3 are gross. I hate the instructive tone in which all these demands are made. Like there is no way you can say no. No place for your own kinks and your own wishes. depends on the relationship dynamic[s]. Like consenting partners are known to give each other hand jobs in public spaces and enjoy it. But that dynamic of power is something else completely. The sexual need is not expressed like this in that case.’

Another read,

‘The dynamic[s] matters. Part of being in a consensual sexual relationship is “setting an equation” of what works for both parties and what doesn’t. I’ve never asked such questions but have been asked to do all of Nos. 1–5 by women that I was consensually involved with. They weren’t pushy (even though my response was generally “No, thanks!”) so it wasn’t abusive, because it was a simple request which I had the choice to accept or reject. It’s when it’s a demand that it becomes problematic. The dynamic obviously shifts when it’s men making demands of women, but the question itself is not automatically abusive.’

Now this is the argument that i am going to take on. My theory is that these questions are inherently abusive. This will help us prove that Ansari’s case of sexual assault and rape is sexual assault and rape and those who are arguing that it is sex are doing so because of reasons that i am going state in some time (2 minutes).

Inherent Abuse

Argument: It is not abusive if asked in a certain way. If it is asked by women with whom i have consensual sex, it is not abusive. If both the partners enjoy it, it’s not abusive.

Response: It is, it is, it is.

How? Asking is not merely asking. If A asks B if they can murder B using a knife and slitting their throat, is that a question or is it violence? It is violence.

Why? Killing someone is manifestation of violence and the fact that one asked before killing does not rid killing of its inherent violence.

Question: Are you saying that a guy asking his ‘consensual sex’ partner if he can come between her breasts is inherently violent?

Answer: Yes

How? The woman has no problem with it!

Answer: Putting someone in a position where they even have to think ‘Do i have a problem with this?’ itself is violence as far as sex is concerned. This immediately sets a power equation even where there was none earlier.

Question: So what, now we can’t ask anything?

Answer: No, you can’t ask anything. Sex, is a tool that is used on a large number of women to assert power. It is mostly done by the male species. So every sexual act that you think about is part of the exertion of power if not abuse. It becomes abuse only when you do it but the thought itself is abusive in nature.

Whining: But that is like — a LOT of things!

Rolling eyes: Yes, precisely why Grace did not get the support of even staunch feminists. Even feminists have fantasies, we have sex too and yes, contrary to what the world thinks, we do think. Accepting Ansari’s behaviour as assault would mean that we have abusive thoughts, we have abused people and that our sex life might not be all that politically correct as we imagined it to be. See the other big problem here? One doesn’t even have to be a person who has done things like what Ansari did in the way he did it, but just being someone who thinks of these as normal sexual acts are either being abused or are having abusive thoughts. Even if they are doing it with consent, it means that both the partners have normalised abuse and maybe even take pride in that.

Whining: But that’s a LOT of people, even women, you are talking about!

Rolling eyes: Yes, it is.

‘Coming’ between a woman’s breasts is not part of sex. It is a need that has risen out of fetishizing and imagining ways in which sex can be more enjoyable to oneself. If the need to do this act is arising from healthy appreciation of women as humans who have sexuality, this is not exactly the ideal way to show it, is it? When you appreciate breasts, why would you think of spraying your body fluids, residues — over them rather than — umm — telling them that? If that is a legit way of expressing happiness, sexual pleasure or interest, one must be really happy and sexually interested in toilet paper, right? Let’s not forget that something called a ‘facial’ exists and that porn has a category where one can watch men ejaculate on women’s faces. Or are you saying that porn is the new healthy sex?

‘Blow job’ is no different. (Okay i think i successfully lost the last readers who were lingering to see where i was taking it.) If ‘blow job’ is just part of sex and is completely all right for consensual sex partners to do it, why is ‘blow job’ also derogatory? We know that it is used as an insult. One male sucking another male’s cock is derogatory not only because people are against gay sex but also because it is considered demeaning by males themselves. Of course, taking one’s sex organ, that too, the sex organ that the male species considers is part of their power, in someone else’s mouth is demeaning even in its origin. To be honest i myself have used it against some men who were particularly nasty. Like saying ‘you’re so spineless you can even suck your own dick’ or ‘how many blow jobs did it take for this guy to come in support of you?’

Don’t say that the penis not a source of power in patriarchy. Chithralekha, a Dalit woman from Kerala was given death and rape threats because she abused the Chief Minister’s sex organ as the only possible defence against the violence the government was doing to her. What do you think is the deal with unsolicited dick pictures?

The ‘blow job’ is an insult when it is not being done with one’s sexual partners because it is a play of power. And it is not an insult with sexual partners for the precise reason that it gets done. That is, it is no coincidence that many sexual acts that are inherently abusive are deemed ‘normal’ by rape culture.

Yes, oral sex is performed on women as well, they enjoy it. Let us again go to the parallel male universe. Performing oral sex on a woman is not exactly ‘manly.’ In fact, someone who licks a pussy is a pussy in male language. Even the Atlantic piece against Grace, has a line that gives the author away with their male thinking. [Many lines, actually, but no point going there.]

‘Within minutes of returning, she was sitting on the kitchen counter and he was — apparently consensually — performing oral sex on her (here the older reader’s eyes widen, because this was hardly the first move in the “one-night stands” of yesteryear), but then went on, per her account, to pressure her for sex in a variety of ways that were not honorable.’

A male performing oral sex on a woman is also used as a quid-pro-quo for oral sex on men. Or for sex itself. And in the same universe there are sexual acts that suit a ‘wife’ or a ‘lady’ and there are those that suit a ‘hooker’. Come on, look at the name ‘blow job’ itself. So the argument that ‘fetishes’ and ‘preferences’ are all right as long as they are consensual is nothing but men trying to get everything from one woman, in their language, clubbing a ‘wife’ and a ‘hooker’ or a ‘whore’.

Also notice how one of the commenters found swallowing semen and drinking urine to be ‘gross’ but thought the rest of the acts depended on other factors? This is the threshold point. There is one for everyone who has ever said ‘that doesn’t sound like assault’ about assault. [To be fair, the commenter wasn’t one among who thought Ansari’s case wasn’t rape.] And more often than not, these threshold points are formed by one’s own sex life or ideas about sex both of which are highly influenced by the rape culture that is already in place. This way, a person who considers having sex in public to be inherently abusive might also feel that having sex with boyfriend in front of another sex partner is quite all right.

I am not questioning the agency of people, especially women, who have various threshold points like these. I am saying that understanding abuse is difficult because of rape culture. One might try to lose some kilos because boyfriend said that he sometimes wondered ‘how would it be to have sex with a lighter you’ but neither the fact that you are happy doing it, nor the fact that you feel really good after losing weight and having sex, make the boyfriend who ‘wondered’ less abusive. You might be of the opinion that grooming is terribly abusive but losing weight yourself and feeling good about it might not make you realise that that’s what you were subjected to. What do you call a ‘fetish’ for children? It is called child sexual abuse. And while you become an abuser only when you implement your ‘fetish,’ you are not having a ‘fetish’ but an abusive thought when you think of children that way.

Don’t Even Ask

I will not go into the details of what Ansari did to explain how each is abusive and not ugly or bad sex but at this point, it is important to think of how to ask someone if they want to have sex because it looks like everyone wants to have sex.

Like i said earlier, there is an inherent powerplay in heterosexual sex because the male dominated world has made it so. Men who think with their dicks is a reality and since the male sex organ is one of the things that is part of patriarchy which enables rape culture, you don’t ever ask a woman if she wants to have sex with you. You heard that right. If you are interested in having sex with a woman don’t go up to her and ask ‘Can I have sex with you?’ because there is always the possibility that she doesn’t want to have sex with you.

Examine why you want to have sex with her. More often than not you will realize it arises from toxic masculinity and objectification. So don’t ask anyway.

If a woman wants to have sex with you, they will surely ask. This is where a group of males who say that it is always their female partners who make the first move and therefore all sex they have has to be consensual. No, it doesn’t work like that. That’s like thinking that feminism has won if you like having the woman on top when you have sex. Like how the second commenter said, if women approached him and asked him to drink their pee or to have sex in a classroom or a garden, it would be his responsibility to say that that cannot be done. Not because of the way in which it was asked but because it was asked at all. Have you ever helped anyone out of abuse? It sucks.

It will really hurt when you try to rescue yourself out of abuse and convince your loved ones to do the same. So if a woman is approaching you with an invitation for sex, you don’t, as a responsible sexual partner get to say yes all the time. Understand that it is possible for women, as long time victims, to harbour abusive thoughts towards themselves. So a woman saying ‘come between my breasts’ is her objectifying herself and not consent.

It is also possible that they never ever ask you anything except may be the point of existence of the male species, but seriously, if a woman never approaches you for sex, it means that she does not want to have sex. News Scroll: It is a possibility that there are women who might not want to have sex with you. It is also a possibility that there are women who might not want to have sex at all.

Haven’t you seen public toilets on trains and bus stations — or is it just an Indian thing? I haven’t been anywhere else — that have penis pictures all over? You don’t see vagina pictures or vulva pictures all over women’s washrooms, do you? That is the difference in power in gender. So the task is to make the penis women friendly. That sentence is figurative.

To all those who just cannot see the abuse in Ansari Vs Grace, i am putting in a gentle reminder that feminism doesn’t end in bed. It doesn’t die a natural death during sex and resurrect the morning after when you have to figure out whose turn it is to do the dishes. If we fought and achieved birth control, we also have to fight and achieve women, queer, transgender friendly sex. But this time, let it be clear that what we are fighting for, is not in fact women-friendly sex, but sex. Sex that is not women-friendly is not called sex, it is called abuse.

[Next year on the same date, you can wish me ‘Happy 1st Losing Your Remaining Friends Anniversary. P.S. I love chocolate and don’t drink.]

No One Can Stop Me From Blogging Not Even Inji Pennu | Shrink Tales

I couldn't write Reflections [Ish renamed 'aftermath' to reflections. It still is what one felt before, during and after the therapy session.] for the session. It was the second time in a row that i was going to therapy without Reflections. I did wonder if it was Inji's words that were doing it to me. Subconsciously, perhaps?

From long time ago, during a period of pain. I miss film school now. [can edit and reuse with credit]

Inji had told me something about my blog when i was in Delhi that broke my heart. She told me that i was too open, i exposed my vulnerabilities as it was and people could take advantage of me anytime they wanted for the same reason. As if it was something i didn't know. She told me that she knew why i did it, how therapeutic the experience of spilling everything into a paper as words was. She said that i didn't have the talent she and Kamala Das had, to hide oneself from others even when they wrote about one's own experiences.

I felt let down. Felt she looked down upon me. Felt like a fool. I cried a lot. Of course i know how i am exposing myself to strangers. There are just 15 or so people who regularly read my blog posts. Some of it is family who are snooping around to know what i am up to. But i know that there is at least one person in there who feels a sense of relief that i exist and that i write the way i write. Nobody is holding a gun to my head, asking me to blog. That too to be honest when i blog. But i try to do it as much as i can and even feel guilty if i can't just because i think i owe it to a certain stranger someone. I think i like strangers.

It was the first time we were having a session at the new address. It looked really good. I somehow got reminded of Calcutta. I miss Calcutta. I was also late for the session. Only the previous day, my editor had reprimanded me for being late.

Ish reminded me of the previous session. I knew that there was a door that she had opened for me, last time. She said that it was about me always being a seeker in relationships. Yes! I was sick of being that. In every friendship or love affair that i ever had, i would always be this person who is seeking the other person's love, naturally putting me in a vulnerable position. Will they take offence, will they stop talking to me, will they consider me stupid so went my list of insecurities in every single relationship. Even in student-teacher relationships. I got nightmares that the teacher found out some habit of mine that they didn't like and stopped liking me. Always seeking love and always scared that the love that's once given will be taken away at any moment. The epitome of this is my relationship with her. There was perhaps just one relationship where i didn't fear that. The one with Chechi (elder sister). I have no idea why. In fact, it appeared to me that she was always scared i would stop loving her. And now, at this age, i feel she needs my help. So i feel protective. Chechi however, has no feelings towards me other than a passionate hatred.

I also always try to be like her and never succeed, making me feel inferior all the time. This makes me a perpetual seeker of success, the kind of success that she has. Now let me make clear what this success i am talking about is. Because strangely, people around me and i have very different ideas about success.

For example, a lot of people are jealous of Inji Pennu because she works and lives in US. But to tell you the truth, i have never understood why they thought that was a good thing. I always feel bad that she is in US. I feel bad whenever i go to mallu land and see all the green and Kochi and rain and everything thinking she can't see all that. I feel sad when she says that Florida is like Kerala. But what about the dampness, i think. How can Florida have the same dampness of those stairs where one gets kissed like when in love, the dark patches, the greens that glimmer in the night. I feel bad for Inji. I remember making a video called 'rain for you' for Inji, when she first left me.

So what is this 'success' i am talking about? I just want to be like her in that, i want to be a person who

blogs
loves
works (not having a domestic help, having a full time job, children to feed)
manages time like her

I want to be as clear as her in my politics, my understanding of issues.

Anyway, before going to therapy, i had realised that i would never be able to be exactly like her because i didn't have children. Nothing was going to happen if i didn't get up on time and didn't cook food. But if i had children, they would starve and it would be horrible. I can afford it. She can't and she still does it. On top of that, she deals with burdens like me.

I told Ish how, when she scolds me, i feel like Rahel in the God of Small Things. As if she loved me a little less. A giant moth settling on my heart saying she loves you a little less. Then Ish said something that made me go 'oh!'

She said that during the time she was going to have a second child, she was not sure about it. She was scared if she would love one more than the other. Then her supervisor had told her that there was nothing called loving less or more. It came as a whole. When you love someone or decide to love someone, you always love with all the love you have.

I then realized why my lovers always got pissed seeing me behave with other people i loved. They saw how i loved them others and sensed it was the same. They didn't like it that the love went as a whole and not as a lesser package custom made for friends. This was why siblings always got pissed seeing Mother love the other one. They don't like it that the other one is getting the same love they are getting.

Surprisingly, in my case it was completely different, i recalled. I always felt that Mother loved me more than she loved Chechi. And i felt guilty and sad for it. I wanted Mother to love Chechi as much as she loved me. I would think about methods to do it and even implemented some of them.

My editor scolded me again that week. I felt

abandoned
useless
angry
incompetent
it wasn't fair

and soon after that felt defeated because in the end, my editor was always right. But when i got hurt i felt like it was like asking a fish to climb a tree and then saying that it wasn't good at it. I feel that my fear of travelling, my forgetfulness and much more that come with it are all part of my depression. And whenever i get a blow like the time my editor scolded me, i go to Appachan - the safe place where i can never be hurt.

How can i find him? How can you find people who are dead? I am sad.

Oh yes, i will be continuing this exercise of exposing my vulnerabilities before strangers. Writing is not therapeutic for me, it is not to write away my sadness that i come here. The truth is that i just think of the time i will die and someone going through my vulnerabilities over here. Just to see how one lived and died, i guess.

Job's Gone, Want to Sleep, Want to Give Up | Shrink Tales

So my job's gone. The company is shutting down. I just have a couple of weeks left to find another job, if i want to find another job, that is. I say 'if' because my new tantrum is lethargy. I just don't want to do any work. I just want to sleep all the time. Thoughts of SRFTI - the film school that has a great role in my mental health problems - keep coming to me and make me sad. 

My film 'Gi' got selected in International Film Festival of India [IFFI], Goa. I have been told that it is a big deal. I didn't know it was. Now with this achievement, people who had harmed and hurt me for no reason, started speaking with me. Tagging me on Facebook, accepting congratulations, i still don't understand what is so great about this. 

On top of that, the Director of SRFTI, that woman who lives with Shyamal Sengupta, a professor who sexually harassed me and many more women, and who drove me to suicide the last time i went to SRFTI, sent me a letter congratulating me. 

I am extremely elated to learn that your film has been selected for this year's IFFI. Like any head of an institution, I feel immensely proud for your achievement. This feat, so early in your career, speaks volumes about your talent and ingenuity.

I wish you a great and successful career ahead.

Blessings,

This was her message. I couldn't believe it. I always try to be nice towards women but this was just beyond me and i wrote this scathing reply.

Dear Debamitra,

I am extremely intrigued by the level of your shamelessness. Like any woman who has been subjected to sexual harassment and wronged by the system, I feel immensely sorry for you. This vengeance, even while being a woman who is much older than me speaks volumes about your inherent patriarchy and insensitivity.

I hope you apologise to every woman whom you have failed in SRFTI, including me.

Intrigued,
kunjila

People who had attacked me and other fighter women are now seen 'liking' posts on Facebook regarding the achievement. I always say 'we' and 'our' while talking about the films i direct but with this film i have always been careful to say 'my'. It is just my hard work because everyone within and outside the crew was just trying to push me against the wall and make my job so so difficult. Assholes, all of them!

I spoke to my partner about the problems in our sex life. May be we will go to a doctor one day. But it was news to me when during therapy, Ish explained how men lost their virginity by masturbation and it never really mattered just because they were men. She told me that male foreskin going back would be painful to most men. 

Regarding problems that arose out of being abused as a child, she said that it usually resulted in erectile dysfunction, ejaculating soon etc. for men. Hey have you ever had this experience where you bring up abuse with a male and they tell you a story of how they were abused as a child? Just thought of that. Because science just told me it results in different problems.

You know what, while i want to have a better sex life, i also am scared that my loving relationship with my partner will change and become violent as soon as it happens. Because i have always felt that the act of penetration itself is violent and it is impossible to do it without being at least a little violent towards your female partner's body. I fear that this will change everything and the one relationship where i am not being abused will turn into abuse.

Maybe i should stop thinking about sex. I don't see this going anywhere. I mean, we ended on a note where i said jokingly that my partner would soon find someone else when we fixed our problem. She said that we would have to talk about that notion. Of course, it springs from my low self esteem and needed attention but i am in some zone where nothing really matters. I just want to sleep. 

Ish asked me why i was scared of hurting my partner by talking about sex. I consider him fragile. I remember the time when i had mailed Han about having feelings for him. My partner had read it and was weeping when i came back to the room. Oh! I would never ever want him to be in such a position. I reprimanded myself so much for that seeing how hurt he was. 

I feel he is precious. Too precious that he had to be kept away from me because i have violence within me. I could hurt him.

Scared of a Relapse, Sex Talks Continue | Shrink Tales

I was anxious when i left for therapy. I was not sure of what had happened the previous week, with me bunking office and cancelling train tickets. I was scared it was a relapse and that Ish, my therapist would confirm my fear. 

When i read the aftermath [what Ish calls these writings], Ish told me that i had got the postcard idea wrong. It was not necessary that the postcard had to be to people whom i hated. [I had failed to come up with results for this definition.] It could be people i was angry with or people who hurt me a lot. That was easy, i thought. I was to do it on the Saturday before the therapy Sunday. 

It was a relief when she said that my sleeping and cancelling plans and not working were not signs of relapse, but of a sense of relief. When i had gone to the psychiatrist, she had reduced the dosage of one of my pills – Lithium. When she gave me the feeling that i had gained weight, it didn’t not affect me as much as it usually does. These were positive signs and proof that i was improving. May be my mind wanted to relish those moments by not doing anything. 

Sex still continues to be a problem. When i think of it i think of a tortoise. I feel that it is a part of me that cannot be penetrated – [the choice of word is intentional because i am a genius. No, it was accidental.] There is a difference in the way that therapy has become ever since i started discussing this problem of mine. As always, i shall try to express the feeling in words so that i get more clarity myself. 

Up until now, whenever Ish told me what she thought of what i thought, i had been able to distance myself from myself and think of it and see that it was true. Even her suggestions like asking me to try to talk to Mother about her – gave me hope. Here, however, like a tortoise, i felt that i had this thick shell on me that even Ish would not be able to crack. It was something only LJ could crack, i felt. But then again, LJ too was a victim and an asexual being. So speaking to her about sex would just make me feel even worse. I mean my life’s goal is to be asexual like her.

The problem is that i don’t think the way i feel about sex is something that came to me naturally. Like me being sexually attracted to women – it came naturally and it was not introduced to me by anyone. But penile penetration was ‘introduced’ [read rape] though violence. It was common that through such experiences of violence you started to get pleasure out of the act itself. 

Me thinking that my partner only wanted my body, constantly checking what he would do if i didn’t have sex with him. Perhaps it was related to LJ. She, when she said that her husband loved her, also spoke about how he waited for her at night, a man who is used to sleeping early. About how much he loved her even though they had sex maybe just once a year. Yes, in previous therapy sessions i had realized that there was no point in seeking a perfect kind of love but still i yearn for that, i feel.

Ish told me about trust. Like a litmus test, i used sex as a test where i would be able to tell if the man is right for me or not. Where i was most vulnerable. This made a lot of sense to me. It really looked as if i used sex for the said purpose. May be this was why LJ once hurt me so much by telling me that i slept with people at the drop of a hat.

Inji told me that i sounded tired. Went to the bank to open an account only to see that the bank had shut for the day. I had forgotten to check it online before leaving. Absent mindedness was creeping in.

I liked it when Ish said that she took care to constantly remind me that i was doing good. I realized how that had actually helped me. I would come back home and squeak to my partner that Ish had said that i was making progress. To see the smile on his face. I wish Mother was able to see me too, going through this process of healing. She would also then be able to understand, looking at me, that healing is possible. I know! I should tell her whenever i see that she is making progress! Wow! Why didn’t i think of this earlier! 

Han asked me something: Why don’t you ask for things? Why don’t you ever ask for help? With luggage, internet, everything – i don’t know when this started. 

Me getting startled when people call me, touch has always been a problem – but when a co-worker always answers to your call with a start, it looks awkward. It just struck me because i am interacting with more people and so more occasions of them calling me are arising. I do have one memory of this happening in degree and how Athulya had said that i was making it up.

Good thing – resumed reading. 

I have started seeing Mother everywhere. Like on the road, i would think that Mother was walking when i saw someone with hair plaited, wearing salwar kameez. 

I am having a great time talking to Mother now. But i realised that she is a broken human being. May be more than me. 

She wants to do things to people who abused me. It is not  just about them having done things to me. It is that she holds them responsible for ruining the family life she and her husband had envisaged for us. It might be her way of running away from taking responsibility, something i do too, by blaming these men. She wouldn’t blame her husband whom she loved and lost. It was better channelizing her anger to these men who in any case deserved to be punished. 

I told her how i had, through therapy, gotten over abuse. How i look at those periods differently now. I didn’t want to hang the abusers or ruin their lives. It was the victim’s prerogative after all. Mother didn’t seem convinced. She has, in the past created ruckus in places in public where she had spotted some of these men. It was highly probable, with Mallu land being an even smaller world than the already small world.

How can she be healed, i thought. And i felt that it was up to me. 

However easy i thought it would be for me to draw a picture postcard to person or people who hurt me, i drew a blank on Saturday when i sat in front of the book. I drew a copy of a photo from long ago, in which Mother and baby me were there. She was carrying me on her shoulder and looking at me with so much love in her eyes that the whole photo was about that love. I just wrote ‘aren’t we both awesome’ in the message part. 

Did i just realize that i have nothing to say to those people who hurt me? I’ll find out soon, i guess.