My Life, My Mirror

As I lay in bed, dreading my future as I'm guessing we all do sometimes when we're feeling especially morbid, I felt this deep urgency to open this blog and vent. But as I fired up my laptop, Byron Katie's Loving What Is popped up right in front of my eyes, reminding me that now I had a way of working through these thoughts that caused me so much fear and stress and insecurity.
  My point is that I thought venting will make it better and maybe it would have but the Universe knows exactly what I need in which moment. I'm going to walk through those four questions here for my sake and for yours, my imaginary readers.

Thought: I will be miserable if I move back home.

Question 1) Is it true? This is probably the heaviest of the four questions. If you get this question correct then half your work will be done.
Is it true that I will be miserable if I move back home? No. I was actually very happy when I was there before I got here.

Question 2) Do you have a way of absolutely knowing that its true? This question is for those who got yes on the first question.
No is my answer. There' no way I can predict the future.

Question 3) What does the thought do to me? It makes me frown, it makes me negative towards my mother, it makes me look at the house and think of it as dreadful, it makes me think I won't have a career, it makes me think my parents will marry me off, it makes me miserable, it makes me cling to the life here, it makes me want to work harder to get a life here, it makes me dread the guy that I will supposedly be pressured into marrying, it makes me feel afraid that I will be a pushover and heed my parents' demands, it makes me worry that I will never follow my passion, it makes me worry that my husband will never understand me, it makes me feel suffocated to feel like I'd have to be married off into a typical Indian family.

Question 4) Who would i be without the thought? Woahhhh. After all this fear, I think I'd be the happiest person on earth, I'll feel free, excited, focused,

Turn arounds
I will be miserable here.
I will be happy if I move home.
I will be happy here

A friend of mine said once, "Waking up is the worst part of existence," and I agree with that statement whole-heartedly. And then I heard someone say, "You cannot think your way out of bed," and that statement resonated with me on an even deeper level.
  That's probably the mistake we all make. We're first in denial, denial about the earliness of the hour, our mind already complaining how little sleep we've had, our body acts as if it is soaked in lethargy. But then the alarm rings a third time and usually this is the time I take to go over the day's activities  bargaining with myself if I have just a teeny bit to squeeze in a "last" 10-minute nap. Sometimes I give in and sleep for another two hours that way. But then there are days like these, when I act my way out.
  What if we skipped this whole process and went straight to jumping out of bed. Wouldn't that be amazing? Its easier said than done, for sure.
  But then what isn't?

Projecting Emotions

I wish I could say I was a firm believer of the Law of Attraction or the Law of Manifestation. However, my beliefs have been tested and are still being tested time and again. Over the years they have become stronger.
  I believe this thought in my head: that I'm not smart enough for this. I don't know know enough for what I am doing but what I realized is that if I can, from  my present state of mind imagine a scenario in which I am happy and peaceful with my level of intellect, the feeling is bound to manifest. It has in the past and there's no reason why it won't now.
  That's going to be my new goal for the week. Everytime I feel like I'm fumbling through something, I'm going to take a pause, take a deep breath and imagine a scenario where I am confident in my abilities and it will manifest.

The thing about confessions...

...is that you need courage. What I used last night is what everyone calls Liquid Courage. But that term got me thinking. We wrongly burden alcohol by making it the reason behind our actions. Yes, the alcohol helped me do it but it did not give me the courage to do it. The courage, I already had. That was never the problem, the problem was the story that I was telling myself and how strongly I believed it that I never bothered to believe otherwise when I questioned myself.
  Talking to people and directly asking them how they feel gives you a sense of perspective that you might be wrong (or they're lying) I'm struggling with the latter possibility a lot. But then who isn't? Its upto me what I choose to believe. Its upto me to decide if I'm worthy. And this takes courage that no liquid, or external substance can give me.
  The courage to believe.

The Choice

Now I'm going to be shameless here and profess my undying unequivocal love for Oprah Winfrey. Her vision with her channel inspires me everyday.
  In the video that I saw today she had Limbless Nick come to her show and speak about the power of choice and what a speech he gave!
  To say that it uplifted my mood and motivated me would be an understatement. He says that he had two choices, either be angry at God, at the Universe for being "wired" differently or be grateful for the cards he was dealt with and that statement resonated with me and truly struck a cord.
  I have two choices at the moment: I can either complain about not having a mind that is very quantitative or I could be happy about the fact that I have other talents, like the talent of words, and the curiosity for news.  I can be grateful for the education that I received until now. I don't have to try to live another's dream.
  I'd rather live my own.

  

And here I am. Back to the blog that no one reads and frankly, no one should read. I think I will update pretty frequently because I am suffering and this is my moment to vent. When I say I am suffering the image that may cross your mind would be of a starving girl with her hipbones on display but let me tell you ladies and gentlemen, I am not starving and my hipbones are covered with at least three layers of fat. No, my suffering is of another kind-it is of the mind. And probably yours is too if you have managed to stumble upon this blog.
  I currently live in New York City and I am looking for an internship in the Finance industry. If you don't know what that is like, then you are lucky because this is ruthless. Not knowing that you are good enough, smart enough, focused enough is ruthless and painful. Not having a purpose is wearisome.
  But I must remember that this mood that I am in is like a wave- it sweeps on me from time to time, threatening to pull me under, but I have always hung on and I will strive to do so.
  Why is following my passion so tough? Why am I so resistant to it? I will find the answers one day.
  I hope I find my silence one day.