An Invisible, Intangible, Infuriating Agony

Oh, there you are, again. Gentle, quiet, authoritative. You’ve come without an invitation. You’ve come unannounced. You’ve brought with yourself the tools of torture. Some memories, some apprehensions, some pain, some assumptions. I see a meaningless guilt is accompanying you. And restlessness is there too.

Well, come. I don’t know how to turn you away.  Come and take charge of this life—a life not yours but still hangs at your mercy. Come. Sit. Narrate those scary stories. Flood me with loathing and disgust.

Spin my head around. Weave fears of lies. Engulf me in your painful comfort. Hug me tight. Don’t let me breathe. Teach me to bear. Fill me with this agitation. Oh, is that restlessness for me?

I will keep it, store it, treasure it. It’s here to stay, I know. I have a place for it all ready and polished. What’s that? Guilt is staying over too? Well, the more the merrier.

Would you like a cup of tea? Or perhaps 8 or 10? Can I put on some TV for you? No? You’d rather I work? Okay. Oh, you don’t want me to do that anymore? Okay. How about I read you a book? Yes? Here it goes. Oh wait. That’s not interesting? Never mind. We’ll move on to something else. Would you like to eat? Can I cook something? No? That’s too much effort? How about we sit and talk to my family? No. You’d rather I be alone. Of course.

What can I do for you, master? What’s that? You just want me to stay. Lie still. Stare into space. You just want me to listen. What am I listening to?

Alright, I have heard this one before. It’s a record from infinity ago. It talks about this pointless existence. Oh, this one is from the heartbreak. Okay, okay, I know this one. It’s the one with the fear of failure. And this is the one that says none of it matters. I remember. I remember all of them.

You want me to listen to them again? Well, okay. I am here.

I am thinking of Ending Things

The title of this post is inspired by the book of the same name by Ian Reid.

One among the many things that I related to in this book was that once this thought enters your mind; there is no escaping from it. I am thinking of ending things. 6 words that can break someone’s heart; make someone panic; send them into a frenzy of fear; or just plain destroy them. I am thinking of ending things. I love how these 6 words mean so many different things in so many different contexts.

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Mental Illness is not a Choice

I don’t remember having a conversation with my creator and picking out qualities and behaviours from a choice of many. I don’t remember asking for a mind that overthinks and a heart that feels too much. For all I know, I was born with it. Or maybe I picked them along the way—with my experiences in the world. All I know today, is that I am an empath with a mind that overthinks even the slightest of things and a heart that overflows with every emotion presented to it.

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The Opposite of Depression is not Happiness

I receive a text from an old acquaintance in another country asking me how I am doing. Since I have taken an oath to always talk honestly about my illness, and he is someone who knows I struggle with it, I tell him, “I have been depressed past couple of months. I took a sabbatical from work and everything just seems hopeless.” He sends me the rolling eye emoji and thus begins an uninvited rant. In the middle of be positives and why do you think like this, he says, “You have to learn how to live happily.” And I lose it.

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