🐼 Here's a confession from a lazy writer.

Blowing up the rather successful cover-up today.

Heyaa,

I have been a lazy writer for the last five years now. And I haven’t written much about myself in the real world. I haven’t talked about myself much outside of my profession. In fact, I don’t have much of the real world.

My world revolves around my laptop, mobile, Kindle, iPad and ever-changing earphones.

So, what’s different today? Why am I blowing up the cover-up?

Nothing. It’s just that I talked about it last year. About my physical challenges… a part of it, actually, on Unbinary Life.

For me, it didn’t come out well. It was my first time doing so, and my thoughts aren't best expressed talking.

So, I wanted to write.

Write as much as I can… today. And it’s going to be a long story.

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OK, back to my story…

Actually, I’ve always been a special kid, pampered and protected.

I get bruised easily. I get deep cuts, sometimes mystical because I didn’t even feel the pain. And I’ve fallen quite often when I lose my balance.

In 2006, I broke a knee. That ended my regular school classes.

In 2008, I fell off a stair or two. Hit my waist and head enough for a 3-month-long bedside sojourn. My adventure outside the house further reduced. Almost the whole of my college education was completed at home.

A little mishap in 2009 and a few more later sealed my fate. To be under the active watch of someone at all times.

So, I've been spending much of my time at home, keeping my thoughts to myself. No events, get-togethers, or trips unless a family member is along. And those moments are few.

It doesn't matter much. I don’t like venturing out anyway. Being an introvert helps.

Whatever little adventures I have outside have been with my family. And those have been great as far as I could handle. My parents and siblings provided support wherever needed, keeping their calm.

So, I do what I had been doing. I be lazy. I spend my day sitting.

That’s why I’m “lazy” writer. It’s a cover-up I created on Twitter some 8-9 years ago. No one knew me there. No one sympathised with me anymore. All they saw were my thoughts. It was liberating. So, I continued being lazy when I started freelancing.

I haven’t talked about these openly because talking doesn't make it any better.

When people know about these, most express sympathy, and all I can do is put up a smiling face. A BIG, FAKE GRIN.

Sympathy doesn’t make me feel any better. It makes me feel I’m at some disadvantage, that I’m lacking something.

Yes, that’s what I feel when anyone says they’re sorry for me; in any language I know. And that’s why I don’t talk about it.

I don't want sympathy. I don’t want people to feel sorry for me. So, I kept things hidden online.

But now, it doesn't bother me much. Keeping my emotions under control kept me sane. 

I started focusing on the positive side... as much as possible. That worked! I can even put up a big smile.

I’ve noticed many things have been in my favour since always, in some way or the other.

So, I started keeping a check on my thoughts. The moment I caught myself thinking negatively, I switched. I toggled my thoughts to the other side. Being grateful for what I have and not what I could have.

Slowly, I began losing the feeling of pain. I was becoming happier, or let's just say, normal. Living in the moment, worrying about nothing.

And somewhere there, I also lost the enthusiasm for being happy. My sadness is momentary, and so is happiness.

Whether anyone sympathises, praises or hurts, nothing matters now.

It has continued to help me survive. And again.

I survived the fall, mentally, when my knee dislocated in 2020. Ligaments were torn. Surgery wasn’t an option. I bleed a lot, and wounds don’t heal as quickly as others.

Spent the next three months entirely at home.

Now, I walk with knee braces on and a walker for support. Losing balance again would be catastrophic. And unless the ligaments find a way to regenerate and connect themselves, there’s a little chance I will be walking normally again.

But now, I’m used to being “lazy.” Since I can’t move around much, I have more time to myself.

So, I keep myself busy, reading, freelancing for clients and trying my hands at different projects. I find things to keep myself busy.

I can’t stop thinking about work. I can’t take a break. I can’t stop the chain of thoughts. The moment I do, it reminds me of reality.

And no, I don’t feel bad about myself. Nothing at all. Zero, zilch, zip! Except for a few occasions.

In the Unbinary Life podcast, I mentioned I am happy with whoever I am. 

If I was well, if I didn't have this (suspected) Ehlers-Danlos syndrome that directed each of my physical incidents, I might have been in a better position. Doing something else.

But then, I couldn’t have been this lazy writer, probably.

That’s all about me. Wrote these so I no longer have to worry about revealing my weakness(es) accidentally.

Signing off for the day!

Bidding adieu.

Live long and prosper.

See you next week, with another story.