Dangling Conversations

The Dangling Conversation – Simon & Garfunkel

And the dangled conversation
And the superficial sighs
Are the borders of our lives

“I am a narcissistic addict”


Me: I give up on shame and embrace addiction, increasingly more these days. I am addicted to mirroring myself.  It’s a paradoxical combination, of narcissism and self hatred; each growing as a reaction to the other and each getting increasingly more intense by the day.


We are so fucking narcissistic, even in love, even in sex, even in all possible human emotions and dynamic relationships. It is almost like we are getting ourselves laid and making love to ourselves. How do we live with this human condition and yet somehow decide to live until death?


The End

“Possibility of Friendship”

Me: Question 1: (…) ?
Question 2: (…) ?
Question 3: (…) ?

He: Once sex is out of the way, it creates the possibility of a healthier friendship; the relationship becomes a lot more liberated and sincere.
Of course it doesn’t work like that always and with everyone.

The End

“मूल “

He: लग्नं नाही केलं कारण मूल व्हायची भिती वाटते.
(I chose to not marry because I fear a child’s ‘being’.

Me: ‘तू ‘ मूल व्हायची’ कि  ‘तुला ‘मूल व्हायची?
(You ‘having’ a child or you ‘becoming’ a child?)

The End

“Chickens are Decent People”

He: Why did we make life so complicated? 
I just remembered, ‘chickens are decent people’.
And we are better than chickens all of a sudden?

Me: “All of a sudden” was so well placed! 😁

He: Chickens are Decent People – George Carlin 

Me: The next video on autoplay is – List of People Who Ought to be Killed – George Carlin
Aigga! Look at my tabs! The irony of it all!

George Carlin – List of People Who Ought to be Killed

Judith Butler – Why Preserve the Life of the Other? 

He: 😁

Me: 😁

The End

“Honest to Yourself ?”

He: Helping for you means that I have to amen what you say?

He: I mean I understand you.
I’m just saying that you are not honest to yourself. And maybe you will never be. 

The End

“Is that it?”

Me:  So we stop being friends now, because you can’t handle this?
Is that it?

He: Or we can say, we stop being friends now because you don’t make any sense and you are so arrogant thinking you are the center of the universe?
Is that it?

Me: ‘Being Relevant’ – The Birdman

The End

“Keeping in touch”

She: What happened?

Me: Too much shit. Wouldn’t know where and how to begin.

She: Begin anywhere you’d like to.

Me: Nothing to hide from you. Thanks for your kindness, I know we don’t keep in touch but nothing has changed between us.

She: It wouldn’t either. Keeping in touch ‘all the time’ is actually a thing of the past! It’s mature relations that survive and being in touch is only incidental.

The End



Confessions of a Suicide

I never wanted to exist. I hate my mother’s eggs; I hate my father’s sperms; as much as I hate their fertility. As a matter of fact, I hate human fertility in general.
What have we made of ourselves? What have we become? What have we to offer to another lost generation, and the one after that, and the one after that, and the one after that? “Copy of a copy of a copy”?
In all humility, perhaps, ‘non-existence’.


Me: Life!
He: Fucking life it is.
Me: Can’t end it, can we?
He: Can’t end that which never started.


Does it have to be this way?

Louis C.K. : I don’t think life is that important. It’s just not. It is not. People get too excited about life. (…) Life is okay. I like life. I like it. I don’t need it. I’d be fine without it. I like life, though. I do. You know how much I like life? I have never killed myself. That’s how much I like it. That’s exactly how much I like it, with a razor-thin margin. I like it precisely enough to not kill myself. It’s an option, though. It’s totally an option. (…)
You are not supposed to talk about suicide, even to your shrink. (…) But you should be able to talk about it. The whole world is just made of people who didn’t kill themselves today. That’s who’s here.

Life is not that important


How do we function?

Jim Jefferies: We drink because we fucking have to. (…) We drink because life is shit and you got to do whatever you can to get through the fucking day.
Why we drink?


What makes you human?
Choice. Autonomy. Empathy. Birthing.

. . .

What would you like to be?
An automaton.

Why is that?
Emotions are exhausting. So are human interations and what they call “relationships”.

You have a choice, dont you?
Yes. I do. But at what cost? It feels like an unfair deal I made with the devil, for momentary “pleasures” that help me function, one day, after another, after another, after another.

What is the deal?
Mephistopheles and I signed a contract.

I gave him depression. He gave me medication.
I gave him inhibitions. He gave me alcohol.
I gave him intimacy. He gave me sex.
I gave him relationships. He gave me socialization.
I gave him acceptance. He gave me independence.
I gave him love. He gave me menstruation.
I gave him performativity. He gave me loneliness. 

Do you think this is worth it?
As worthy as it can get, as long as it can sustain. Until one day he eats me up and there is nothing left to bite into anymore.

What is the process like?
I am still alive, so, you know, it has kept me on the other side of the razor-thin margin, so far. Every day I get closer to the day when I won’t be myself.
I am a social construction, you see. I don’t exist.
I will either deconstruct or destruct.
And if I have any strength left – construct and reconstruct.
“Emigrate or degenerate”. Thats the human condition.

“Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep”?
“You will be required to do wrong no matter where you go. It is the basic condition of life, to be required to violate your own identity.

Quite an experience to live in fear, isn’t it? That’s what it’s like to live as a slave.
I have seen things you people wouldn’t believe. (…) All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in the rain.

Time to die.

I Can Be A Good Dog

How has your black dog been?

Its been 1 year of therapy. I haven’t learnt to manage him yet. But I have learnt to identify when he starts pulling me down. Identification makes it easier to ask for help. And help makes it easier to manage him.


What has helped?

Being regular at therapy. Being emotionally honest. Y’s love. Non judgmental attitude. Learning to accept & forgive myself.

How does it feel seeing a therapist?

Its not the therapist that scares me. Its my own self. Being emotionally naked can be tiring. Handling vulnerability is not easy. A non judgmental safe space has certainly motivated me to be more honest. Honesty is healing.


What hasn’t changed?

Social anxiety. Obsessive behavior. Anger. Indiscipline. Impatience. Feeling hopeless. Boredom. Feeling of emptiness. Lack of self confidence. Feeling vulnerable. Lack of control. Constant guilt. Unstable relationships. Impulsive behavior. Stress.


What does it make you do?

Avoid social interactions. Depend on alcohol. Sleepless nights. Cheat. Act lazy. Act self destructive.


What has changed?

Degree of self awareness. Have learnt to identify my evils. Its almost like a system reset, like laying a new foundation of self identity. Makes me question all my beliefs, morals and emotions. Most of the times it gets overwhelming. And makes me go to lengths that I have never been to.

How do you deal with it?

I talk about it, in all honesty. I am learning to let go off the shame and embarrassment. Its not easy but that is the only way that has worked for me, by talking about it.


Do you think you are making progress?

My therapist says, it gets worse before it gets better. I feel certain about my progress, slowly but surely I will get there.


What keeps you going?

I don’t think I am high on motivation. I have always been haunted by existentialist questions. Its just the fact that I am alive. I also disbelieve there is any inherent meaning to life.


(You can check out my favorite blogger Allie Brosh’s blog, Hyperbole & A Half here – http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.in/

The illustrations/ comics in this blog are done by her.

Here is the link to my previous blog on Depression – https://rutugole.wordpress.com/2015/03/12/my-black-dog-me/)

I Am You And What I See Is Me

My first memory of meeting a dog is when I am 5. A street dog has given birth to puppies and my mother takes me to meet them. I have vivid memories of how she teaches me to assure the dog mother that I don’t mean harm and how to pet the small puppies and scrub their bellies. I am excited about the experience. My parents never let me fear animals. There is no us and them. We are all one. Fear is never the word, it is always love and assurance. I forever thank them for this. My father has all sorts of pets – owl, monkey, dog, birds, rabbits. I am amazed by his trust. Love is trust.


As a child I am drawn to animals but am not allowed to have pets due to several complicated reasons. I always long to have a dog. After many years I meet these puppies. This is right after Vipasanna course and I feel this is a gift for me in store. I bring the puppies home and take care of them. Name them Gubbi and Laadu. They look so lost and delicate and vulnerable and carefree and alone. I instantly fall in love with them.

I am you and what I see is me.



Later I meet Mithoo. She is a metaphor for abandonment, abuse, pain, insecurities, fear and loneliness. The fear in her is gripping. I want to protect her, protect her from this unforgiving world and rescue her from her fears. If only she could trust me. That choice is hers to be. I hope I can earn her trust. Even before I realize I become her mother. Is rescuing love?


I explain to Y, V & k about how entangled I feel with her. There is no space between us.

But let there be spaces in your togetherness, And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.



Mithoo develops behavioral issues. I take it personally that I failed her. I lose confidence in my parenthood. I want to be by her side. I want to be able to give her time . I want to trust her to deal with her anxiety. Trust. Trust is crucial. Trusting uncertainty. The complexities of parenthood. Of wanting to give your children freedom and yet expect them to do the right thing, right thing by you. We are all selfish in our act of love and too egoistic to accept it gracefully. Love is selfishness.


Mithoo takes her own sweet time. She learns to trust the world around her. “It is alright to be scared, Mithoo! I am always here for you, my darling,” I tell her. Love is acceptance.

DSC00783 (2)

And she also learns to be aware of her choices. She learns to accept. And she learns to reject. I want to listen to her. Love is listening.


I meet Dalmatian. I see a wonderful mother in her. She knows when to be strict and when to pamper. It is a fine, delicate balance. I learn from her. I admire her because she is so real. Love is being yourself.


I meet Mili. I instantly feel a strong connection with her. I want to take her in my arms. I want to adopt her. She is so delicate and vulnerable and so infinitesimally small. Death kills her after a week. I don’t make peace with her death. I dont grieve. I obsess. I obsess for months on end. I feel addicted to a replacement. Y says, “It is unhealthy.” I say, “So be it, I want another Mili.” Mithoo is unable to understand.



I meet Tubbu. I long for the same connection. I never feel it with him. He is wonderful but he is not mine. I have lost Mili. Mili is never coming back. Mili cannot be replaced. Death is brutally honest. Love is death.


Marley & me. I am not ready to foster her. I feel angry on the inside. I hate her. She is annoyingly adorable. I now understand violence. Love is hatred.

Never tickle the dragon if you can’t bear the heat.


I meet Inoo. I have forced myself to foster her. But I have grown to feel attached to her. Inoo resembles Mili. Inoo isn’t Mili. Love is learning to love.


Love is Identifying. Love is Patience. Love is Letting Go. Love is Observing.


Love is knowing. Love is not knowing. Love is half knowing.

Present tense has its own charm. I want to explore this artistic decision of writing in the present tense. Please note : Most events in the blog are a past memory.

Thank you, dear Y for the beautiful photos!

Mithoo & Inoo know their names but dont recognize me by my name. It is literallly a nameless relation. (Pun intended!)

Take It Back

I cheat on him. I do it knowingly. I have been feeling suffocated in the relationship for too long. We have been unhappy however hard we try. We aren’t meant to be. Eventually it doesn’t work out. I am uncourageous in my act. I cheat. He finds out. We break up. I feel emotionally naked and vulnerable. I cry all the time. Every moment reminds me of him, of the good times we have had. I cannot accept how touchy I have become. I have learnt to trust and break my own trust. Every song I hear, every space I visit is a constant reminder of him. Uneasiness haunts me. I lose appetite. I feel nauseous. I lose weight and sleep. I want to be more self reliant. Love is...a house of cards I oscillate between intense emotions and a complete lack. At times I feel comfortably numb. I want to collapse. I want to destruct my own self. And be far far away from the world. I want to hide my face in the brown brown soft warm earth. It is a sinking feeling. Constant sinking feeling. It is dark and hopless. I listen to Pink Floyd. I appreciate poetry and art better. 872a0aafba69437f56be2ce51848e670 I feel nostalgic and attached to him. I am still emotionally dependent on him. I sometimes feel I should bring him back. But my mind tells me otherwise. I feel emotionally raw. I feel intense shame and guilt. I will never be able to forgive myself. I will carry this feeling onto my next relationship and the next and the next. I feel I don’t deserve forgiveness, not from myself, not from him. I want to feel hurt. I don’t deserve joy, not in my next relationship and the next and the next. love-is-kim-grove-comics-25 I write to him. I apologize. I put my heart out there. He forgives me. Very graciously. He is aloof and graceful in his act. I am lost for words. I cry, like I have never been forgiven.

Are you unforgiven too?

Take it Back – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VDH7JqF_EFg

Rethinking Infidelity – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P2AUat93a8Q

The Forbidden Fruit & Me

As my psychotherapy progresses, I am exploring more hidden parts of my unperceivable unfathomable mind. Each therapy session is a tap on another unexplored area. Sometimes it is more than I can handle. But I would rather know than not know and it takes what it takes. All these unknown doors are waiting to open.

There are things known and things unknown and in between are the Doors.

Jim Morrison, The Doors

Dominique Francon from The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand, as a character has always intrigued me. It has been ten years of thought. Only now do I understand her better. In fact I can relate to her sometimes. Not her confident, self assured self, but her choices. People often think she is a lost soul. I think she is too intelligent and unanswerable and uninhibited and undenying and free and passionate. And self destructive and depressed. No one seems to understand her pain and anguish and disappointment and hopelessness. Men are especially fascinated by her sexual being. As I study myself in therapy I can more often than not, identify with her. Brenda Chenowith from Six Feet Under is another character that I can often relate to. She is a sex addict.

  • Self destruction
  • Ego
  • Addiction
  • Falling for temptations
  • Hopelessness
  • Depression
  • Disappointment in the world & its people
  • Irony of life
  • Humour
  • Unstable relationships
  • Impulsive behaviour
  • Anger
  • Confusion
  • Issues with self identity
  • Asocial behaviour
  • Extreme Rationality
  • Idea of a Free Woman?

I believe, below their confident and free demeanor, lie these harsh truths of their personality. Yes, I can relate to it.

Borderline Personality Disorder –




The question always is a borderline,

Do we eat the Forbidden Fruit or do we not?

And the choice always is,

Do we eat the the Fruit of Temptation or the Fruit of Balance?

And the next questions always is,

Do we really have a choice?


P.S. How my kitten disapproves of my blog.



The Borderline

Once upon a time, there lived a Man of Spirit. And once upon a time, there lived a Man of Science. And once upon a time, there lived a Woman of Life. And once they fell in love. 

And the Man of Spirit said ‘Observe!’ and the Man of Science said ‘Question!’ and the Woman of Life observed and questioned and lived.

The End.

cb8604c68ec1fd6b908fa1509659f925 love-is-2010-08-201

What does love mean to me?

Can I define love?

Do I rise or fall in love?

Can I categorize love?

How many times am I capable of falling in love?

Am I capable of loving more than one person at a time?

What does commitment mean to me?

Are there limits in a relationship?

What is freedom in a relationship?

Can a relationship exist with/ without boundaries?


What does a relationship mean to me?

What does being in a relationship mean to me?

Am I in a relationship because I don’t want to be alone?

Is being alone lonely?

Do I love my partner or am I looking for validation?


What is conditional love?

What is unconditional love?

Am I a purist?

Am I liberal?

Am I capable of love?

Am I capable of life?

In the space-time fabric, will I remain myself in love?

Who am I?