Tag Archives: anxiety

Fumbling Valiance!

Has it ever happened?

That you feel trapped?

You consider yourself quite brave,

But in all honesty, you are scared.

You thought that you forgot that feeling.

With so much constantly happening.

But one fine day,

You find yourself to pray.

Your fingers are crossed,

And you find yourself so much engrossed.

Fumbling, fidgeting,

Anxious; petrified; feeling alarming.

Has it ever happened to you?

That something so important knocks the door,

That your knees go weak,

And valiance seems like yore.

 

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Please, please just let me be…

Please don’t come again.

I am good, if not at best, without you.

Please just go away.

Please, just let me be.

 

It was really difficult

To disentangle from your black chains,

It was claustrophobic

To always be in your embrace.

 

When you are around

I am not happy,

I am not myself,

I am someone I never want to be.

 

Even your shadows are too dark.

When you are around,

I can barely see straight,

It is all just a maddening gaze.

 

When you are around

Every single thing is black,

Every thing is not beautiful,

Every single thing is not acceptable.

 

Even the smallest thing disturbs me,

Every petty thing gets on me.

I cry and crib over every insignificant thing,

I try and trip over every attempt of smiling.

 

When you are around

My friends turn to enemies,

And I try to find solace in those frenemies,

Failing at the attempt of even breathing.

 

I just can’t see through anything.

My vision blurs

And it is difficult even breathing

I drown and drown absolutely giving in.

 

I have told you,

Please don’t come back

My vision blurs

And I see only black.

 

It is very difficult

To disentangle from your black embrace.

It is always choking

To be tied to your steely embrace.

 

Please, please don’t come back

I am good, if not at best without you.

Please just go away,

Please, please just let me be.

 

PS: Before anyone asks, this is not dedicated to anyone. So the ‘you’ in the above poem is not a person, if it can be called a poem at all.

Depression Is A Drug!

This is no revelation now that we live in a hypocritical society. We have come very far now to even question this fact. So when it comes to the topic of depression we are no different. And when I say we, I mean every one of us. There is no exception!

We give so much importance to this word, and try and spread so much awareness about it that we only talk about it. We talk and talk but what exactly do we do about it? We know that someone is depressed, that someone wants to talk about it, but what we do is, we simply smile at him or her and ask him or her to hold up. We give them our own selfish philosophy that in this world every one has come alone, and has to deal with his problems alone, no one is going to come rescue you. If it is a woman, she is told that there is no knight who will come to rescue her, and if it is a man, he is told to man up. We shower upon them all our human tendencies and tell them how our world is run. We ask them to forget about it all, and just move one. Talking about it is a no-no because talking reminds you of your problems, crying over it is an absolute no too, because that will make you more miserable. A person who says is depressed, is also told to just lighten up the mood, why take everything so seriously, “these days people call any low phase in their life as depression; it’s taken too much for granted.”

But honestly, one doesn’t understand until one wears those shoes. And once you say these words to someone, that someone is sure to show you his true colors. If by any chance the person is genuine and knows how painful all of it is, then you get lucky and a pair of ears who will listen to you, but if the person belongs to the typical swarm then what you get is a long lecture to your drumming ears to be a little more brave, to hold up, and to stop fussing over your own problems, because there are other people in the world who have bigger issues than yours.

I guess these people don’t just get what exactly depression is. It is not something, which someone is proud to go through. It is not something that people like to have lived. Depression is not a choice!! And no one in my opinion will ever want to have any loved one go through it, let alone go through himself.

Depression is not a choice!!

No one wants it.

Depression is a state of mind so dark, so murky, that it wraps itself around you so strongly that you will need every ounce of your and your loved one’s energy to bring you back to sanity. It is a state of utter senselessness where you know what’s happening, where you hate what’s happening, you want to do so much to change things and yet all you can do is shut yourself in. All you can do is to grip your hair from the roots and scream into nothingness.

And yet, I feel that it is a drug. Sure, a druggist when drugged, might feel like he is flying in the air, but deep down he is doing it only to numb his pain, either pain from life, or the pain of his addiction. In the same way a depressed person wants only one thing, to numb his pain. He is never in the seventh sky, but he is constantly at the same place, away from the earth, his own world, and knows not his belongings. Depression is almost an addiction, because try as much as you want, you don’t get out of it easily. You know it’s not doing you any good, but you become so comfortable with that state of life, that it becomes a toxic addiction. I am not saying that the person does not want to come out of the state, no, far from it; the person is dying to come out of that helplessness. But the problem lies in the fact that that depression is not only inside his mind, but outside too. People make it difficult for him to do so. At first he is scared of opening up and being judged, then if he finally musters the energy to discuss his problems, then he is in reality being judged, and given solutions, which he already knew. “Talk to people” is what is said so easily, but when someone does it, you take it so lightly that you break the person’s trust permanently; you break his beliefs from the roots.

I am not saying that it is the fault of other people that someone is depressed, all I am saying is it is sometimes far more comfortable to not talk and instead be in that comfort zone of depression.

It is a drug to which one takes again and again, despite all restrictions. Elizabeth Gilbert speaks in Eat Pray love of how her Guru talks about breaking down becoming a habit. The more you tend to break down; the more it becomes a habit. Every time one feels that something is wrong, breaking down and shattering won’t help. So you gather your own remains and rise from the ashes just like a phoenix. But all of it sounds irrelevant when going through bouts of depression. Sometimes you want to come out of these chains, but don’t have the energy to, and the other times, you simply don’t want to come out for fears unsaid.

What troubles me most is people tend to take depression so flippantly, sometimes the person going through it too. It is not a state where someone stays drunk all the time, and lies about simply doing nothing. It is not only when someone has thoughts of killing himself. Sure, these are signs too, of extreme depressions, but there are people who go about their lives just as usual but deep down there are signs of the said drug. These people start cocooning in their shells, distancing themselves from people. It is not that they don’t smile; it’s just that their smiles are painful too. I won’t say that depressed people stop going to offices, and louse around all day long, they go to their office all the same, but they just lose the vigor to work. They are simply dragging themselves around life, devoid of certain feelings within them.

Again, I think people tend to think that depression is caused only due to certain trauma. Our perception of the word is so wrong; that we think a person is allowed to be depressed only when he is going through something volcanic in his life. We tend to not even take it into consideration that little things have been piling up in his already over burdened heart, and all of it is going to burst soon. He might just not want to live with it anymore, but he is denied of this title being given to him, for the lack of a tragedy. Tragedy or not, a person can be depressed; period!

There are so many different phases of depression that we have taken only the darkest side into consideration, all thanks to cliché movies, and our societal belief that you simply cannot be depressed, because being depressed is a sign of being lunatic, and you simply can’t let that happen. What will the people say?? SIGH!!

A person suffering may not be crying 24*7 all year long; that is not depression!! It is not when one is crying his eyes out, with blood red eyes, a drunk head, a ruined liver, lungs full of smoke, a crying heart, and a murky mind. Yes, this could be it. But this is not it!! It is not that the one who is depressed does not smile. He does. He does feel happy sometimes, he does feel that everything will be all right soon, a pinch of positivity does rise from the ashes sometimes, but it evaporates too soon to be carrying him above it. That negativity envelops him too severely, too stringently.

But all of this does not mean that there is no solution, there certainly is. But the first step towards it, is accepting the fact that you are depressed. You cannot live in denial. I am not saying that you can’t avoid your problems for a while, well according to me that helps, because living with certain things constantly may not help, so avoiding it for a while is okay. But accept it, accept that you have a problem, and avoid it. Say, you admit that you are depressed, but then you avoid the said depression. Sounds, okay? Fine, I agree, easier said that done.

But now that you have accepted it, you know what the problem is. Believe me, people aren’t going to help, unless you have an understanding family, and a set of very close and loving friends. If so, then it becomes so much easier for you. Talk to them, not once, again and again, with all kinds of words and emotions, with all kinds of slangs and love. Talk!! Talk till you wear their ears out and then just leave it behind. Divert your mind, do things you haven’t done. Learning new things might keep you more occupied, since you have no prior knowledge of it. Do things you love, and then slowly think of real problems, and how you want to go about it. Take your time!! You might take from days to years, but it is your problem and you deal with it at your pace.

But if you are in a fix, and you don’t think that people are going to understand, then write it down. Write all different thoughts jumbled up, write till your ink wears down, and then deal with it yourself. But never in a fit of desperation go to someone who you think will not understand a word of it. This will simply disarray your mind up, and will send you to such extreme levels of low, which was yet unknown. You cannot feel dejected, useless, and broken at this point. You might start thinking that you were there for someone, and in return you got plain misery from him, but this is not the time, to cry over someone else. He abandoned you in times of need, and now you don’t need to go back to him. That’s truth, and you don’t even have to accept it now, you simply have to try and deal with yourself one step at a time.

Accept- write-divert-learn-deal-take your time.

I am no depression or counseling guru, but this topic has bothered me so much, our callousness sometimes gets into my nerves, and I cannot help but think how casually we take these important issues. We can share suicide prevention causes and messages, for all we want, but it makes no differences until we actually do something about it. On the one hand we say that suicide is a crime, you should not even think about it, and on the other hand we are simply mean and so selfish that we don’t even care to think of others. And it’s not only in the society, but online too. People, sometimes act so, so inconsiderately and are so nasty and unkind that I fail to understand the hypocrisy of the society that we live in. I fail to bring out the words that I have in my mind for such people. No one wants to end his life willingly, unless he thinks that he cannot deal with his problems anymore, alone. No one wants that!! One goes to such extremes only when he thinks that he can take no more. But we keep giving them some more.

There is a lot here which I might have missed out, or which I might have portrayed wrong, and I apologize for that. I have no intention of hurting anyone’s feelings. But at the same time, I take the liberty to say that instead of becoming the cool and classy people that society so much accepts, why not show some love and humanity in general. Sometimes I sincerely wish if honesty and kindness was in trend, I think our world would be lot more better then.

 

 

Just Like Me!

My niece just spent a good long week at my place and it was nothing but wonderful. (The same niece who presented me a little souvenir when I was at her place) Yes, there were times when I was losing it completely trying to keep a nine year old occupied and entertained all day long but I never took it out on her. Well, I tried my best, as best as I could despite not being a fan of the kids. (In my defence, I don’t hate them either.)

But this kid, is really special to me, has always been. I have never met a kid like her. You will see what I mean.

When she was here, I could not help but notice that what my brother and his wife used to tell me was nothing short of true, “She is just like you.” Earlier, when they used to tell me this, I tried ignoring the fact assuming it as their fondness for me. (Yeah, I know I give myself too much of importance 😉 )
But the more I stayed with her, I realised that they weren’t kidding. She is precisely, unerringly like me.

And you know what my first thought used to be? “Oh, my!!! Another mess like me? What is to happen of her?”

She brought the exact replica of my childhood in front of me. It was as if I was looking at a flashback in mirror, only she was a little more cuter and sweeter and the adjectives can go on.

She loves all the same things which I used to love; she reacts the very same way that I used to do. She is fond of colours, loves to sing despite the fact that we are no singers, her tantrums, her habits, her behaviour, the list goes on.

I use ‘Used to” for myself above, because reality hit me hard a few years back and it changed me. Well, it wasn’t a shock to me, because I had been dealing with it for years, only I did not want to accept it. But then I question again and again what will happen of this lovely kid?

I don’t want her to turn like me. I know reality cannot be overlooked or evaded and one day even she will have to grow out of the fantasy land. But, only I don’t want her to be troubled and moved like me.

I use ‘like me’ a lot today which reminds me what I am like. “I am just like her” which again I don’t want to be. So if I am like her and my niece is like me, it is like the genes are flowing down and we will keep creating messes like us. (We should just stop marrying, you know 😉 )

Coming back to my niece, I knew she would grow beyond her age, considering our long known family drama, and the fact that no one cares in our family to keep the kids away from the things which they needn’t know. But I did not see that coming so soon. This was precisely the reason why she was at our place; to avoid the family scenes.

But I don’t think that made any difference.

I know for a fact that when her mother is not around she takes care of her younger brother. She does small things like bringing him food, asking him if he wants milk, looking after his homework- as if she were a teacher. She doesn’t do all of this to enact a mother or a teacher, which most other children would do at her age, she does all of it because she cares, because she knows that she needs to do it. I know it, I know this because I have seen her performing the caring one, I know this because I have done it myself.

So when she came to my place I was happy and relieved that at least she would avoid a little of the drama and could have a week of saneness and being a carefree child.

But something happened after she left, which is still boggling my mind.

This is what happened and this is the reason why I say that I have never met a kid like her.

Her parents did not have the time to come pick her up, neither were we free to go and drop her at her place which would require at least a day’s break. So her father asked her to send her with an uncle that we know and was travelling the same way. I don’t exactly know what is the right age for a kid to be left alone at home; or to let her travel alone for a journey of four hours? But it just doesn’t feel right for a nine year old to be left alone. Though I do remember very well being left alone at home, and so is she left alone most of the times.

So we all thought that she left with the so called uncle and reached safe home, when she called me from home in the night.

I kept checking on her while she was travelling and so did her father.

(Since she has a phone which her dad gave her only since she was alone here. We weren’t supportive of it at all, but since she had it only for the time being, we thought it was okay.)

But today, we got to know the real story, the story that she wasn’t giving away yesterday, the story which was kept from everyone but her father.

In the midst of the four hour journey the said ‘Uncle’ needed to buy a pack of cookies on a railway station for which he got down alone….

And yes, if you were guessing, you might have guessed it right; because he did miss the train leaving that poor little child alone.

After the train moved the panic must have begun in her, but before anything happened her dad called her and warned her off any kind of people. (I cannot begin to think what her state of mind would have been then)

She was left alone for two hours in a journey; she kept playing games, and talking to her father, her mother and me. But she didn’t give away anything. I called her like four times but all she said was I am playing and I will call you as soon as I reach.

Her father reached the station even before the train would arrive and picked her up. Only then must have he breathed a sigh of relief, I am pretty sure about that. But apart from those two people no one new anything.

When they reached home her mother was briefed about what happened, and she scolded her for not telling her anything. My niece’s reply broke my heart-

“Mom, I know you have high diabetes and blood pressure and if I would have told you this then you would have got tensed and then you might have fallen sick, I know you already have a lot of problems going on so I didn’t tell you!”

And when I got to know this, I asked her too, why didn’t you tell me?

And she retorted, “I know you’d have done the same thing. And I am just like you!”

And this broke me completely.

Here, I was trying to keep her away from everything, but I just didn’t realise that she was already captivated in all of it. She was already beyond her years.

I know most people would say that these kinds of experiences make you strong, bold and practical; they give you the strength to deal with life. They sure do, but most importantly you lose a lot too in all of this. It sure makes us strong and resilient, but it also, makes you too practical and feeling-less. By the time you grow up you are hollow inside, and all that is left is a concrete body. You are referred to as pessimistic, gloomy and heartless.

But the fact is we aren’t heartless, we do have a heart, just ours is shielded with facts and truths. It is not that we don’t love ourselves, we do, with all our might we do. But when it comes to our loved ones, we go even a step further than we could, or we should and love them with borrowed might.

And this is what I didn’t want her to go through. I didn’t want her to grow beyond her years, but she already has and I can do nothing about it.

I am just like ‘her’, and she is just like me…

 

PS: I attach the two links here that I refer to from my previous posts.

https://aestheticmiradh.com/2017/06/12/just-like-her/

https://aestheticmiradh.com/2017/11/01/a-souvenir/

Dreams!!

 

Do dreams come true?

Before you say yes, let me make it clear that I am not talking about those dreams which we see through our eyes open, the dream of becoming someone, something, the dream of being with someone, of achieving something, the dream of going to some place. No, I am not talking about that.

I am talking about the dreams which come to you, unwanted, absolutely undesirable, and haunt you in the middle of the night, the kind of dream which leave you panting, breathless not with passionate excitement but with downright disgust and pain, the dream which makes you perspire like you have run a thousand miles only to discover that you are yet to reach your finfish line, and there are tons of people ahead of you.

I am not running, actually, I am just sitting on the bed, gasping for air, trying to breathe in that clammy air, but all I can do is clutch through the sheets and make myself believe that this was just a dream.

But then sometimes even dreams come true, I have heard. Even my dreams have come true at some point in my life. So what assurance do I have that this dream won’t come true? What if? And this what if kills me every single second.

I am not even considering the fact that this dream might come true. No, I don’t have that much courage in me. I will live in denial!!!!!

But the mere thought stabs my heart.

Then comes the theory that we dream what our mind thinks for most part of the day. I accept I have such disturbing thoughts throughout the day, try as I might, they won’t go. My mind is just not under my control. And so they control my days and even nights.

Just when I think that these thoughts are finally, under my control they come back with a different attire and style only to depress me. Just when I think that these dreams are beyond me, they return with an updated version. So for how long will they bounce back? How many years more will they keep coming back to me? Aren’t they tired of me? I sure am.

And so I lay there wondering, struggling for air, wanting someone, something, anything beside me to hold onto, to just make me believe that I am being irrational, that it is only a dream. But all I do instead is to struggle to even breathe and ask myself, ‘Do dreams come true?’

And if the good ones do then so can the dreadful ones, and if they do, then what?

What Do You Do?

What do you do when something occupies too much of your time, too much of the space in your already overthinking mind?

What do you do when things that happen are absolutely out of your control?

What do you do when there are only negative thoughts, and more destructive thoughts making home in your heart and mind?

Needless to say the first suggestion would be to talk things out, to share your woes and doubts with people who care about you.

You pray and hope, and calm your mind but those little evil people are trapped within you.

Then comes the idea of writing your feelings down, word by word. Writers often tend to this technique to cure the ache.

But you see, when desperation kicks in, you go as far as writing your frame of mind and even burning the sheet down to mere ashes; repeatedly!

What do you do when despite all the efforts, those thoughts and feelings stick with you?

What do you do when your thoughts are absolutely out of control? When those thoughts, pains you like a piercing needle, slowly seeping blood out?

What do you do when you can take no more?

What do you do when nothing helps, and even the thoughts (the fact that it is not happening in reality, it is only a thought and a feeling in my head is significant here) shatter you to the core?

What do you when you can’t face the consequences of those thoughts?