A Recovering Date-aholic!!!

Ever heard of Alcoholic Anonymous?

Yeah, I am talking about those group meetings where those addicted to alcohol come forward and piss some steam off. Never attended one but I sort of wish there were groups dedicated to helping those addicted to not being single.

Okay, so I never take resolutions, be it for New year or whatsoever. I did this year. To stay off dating. Well, at least for some time.

When I was 12 and for the first time came to realize the full implications of a phenomenon called divorce, which I was told was rampant in West and not so rampant in India (one of my own uncles is getting divorced, by the way), I made a vow of chastity. Literally. It was like being hit with the exact realization of death that I discovered crudely from a movie when I was 6 (yeah, I used to think we are immortals overpopulating the Earth). So I rushed to the school chapel almost every day and prayed to Virgin Mary to help me save myself for the One and dedicate my body just to him,so that I could find myself a place in Heaven. By the time I turned 25 last December, I discovered that Mary went preggers outside wedlock, that I have already dated more number of men than the number of times I have prayed and that sex really was – ohhhh – “Heaven”. Hormones are mightier than God, you see!!!

So I have successfully managed to evade being single, I mean REALLY single, since I was 15. If there were not serious relationships,there were the flings; if not flings, there were the lovers; if not lovers – I am yet to have a one night stand.  So after two back to back break ups last year, I thought its really time I go for a dating detox. So no dating and no touchy-feely for some time now.

Needless to say since then I have been behaving like a crackhead without the crack. Yeah, the symptoms are all there.

I am moody, sometimes withdrawn, sometimes angry and sometimes gleeful. Last week I drank so much alcohol that for the first time I wanted to puke. I am munching on anything and everything tasty that I can lay my greedy hands on, and if there is nothing, I suck on ketchup and powdered sugar. I am reduced to reading and watching vampire series almost every day, for they are the only beings I can now date in my mind, knowing they don’t exist (living and real beings are strict no-no, lest I throw myself one day at them unable to control my urges). And yes, I am also venting my frustration here in this blog after spending an evening congratulating a horde of my acquaintances who all, it seems to my super sensitive mind, decided to get engaged or married the same week.

I even contemplated becoming a nun and shutting myself away from the world,and then remembered; I am neither a Catholic nor very unworthy of excommunication should I decide to be one. And locked away in a convent, who is to say I won’t take up with a priest or – heck – even one of the nuns. I did hear of a nun in Italy last week, who gave birth to a child. As far as my family’s religion, Hinduism, is concerned – going by our gotra, we are descendants of the school of Vatsayana, the creator of Kama-Sutra so well – you get the drift.

And now I am raping religions because I have so sweetly and idiotically denied myself of any real action. Darn!!

Now, how successful have I been so far? Honestly I have already kinda broken my vow a couple of weeks back but I intend to remain chaste at least until another 6 months pass. And its not my fault, you know. I was working and as with anyone suffering from OCD, I considered myself bethroted to work. That’s right. I worked so much that I could actually register myself being married to work and get away with it. All hell broke loose when I decided to quit sometime back so that I could focus on my studies. As with new divorcees on rebound, I just had to do something to get kicking and got er- naughty. But again, Nothing until 6 months pass from now.

More was to follow. I cried when I moved all the romantic movies in my laptop to a folder that I would never access. I cried when accidentally came across advertisements of sites betokening the underlying pornography as I surfed through the net. I cried when I saw a new shade of lip-gloss reminding me that I have no one to kiss (by the way, I don’t know why I did that since I hardly use make up) and then I cried some more because I thought it was silly of me, crying all over the place.

I am sure by now those of you who have read this blog are convinced that the authorship belongs to a madman who has lost his marbles. But honestly, this is just a recovering date-aholic chick in need of therapy, who is banging herself with all this hatred. I don’t care how stupid this sounds and how self-slandering this is but I need help. To get over attachment and to get over the pain. Any offence to religious and communal sentiments are deeply regretted – when sanity returns.

Until then…. I’ll keep banging.