Take Action – Part 2

You know you are in trouble when you know you are in trouble and you laugh at yourself for being in trouble, again. 

Suddenly, I feel scared and shy. Shy to talk to someone and tell them that I am feeling dead because ‘nothing’ happened. Scared that they’ll laugh at me and judge me for dwelling upon something the don’t really exist. I am sure I am crazy. Not the ‘jumping from the ship in the middle of the sea to feel the water on my body’ crazy, the ‘sad for nothing’ kind of crazy. I feel stupid sometimes. I laugh at myself for being stupid and decide to stop being stupid.

“Fuck this shit. I am just going to be happy.”

I am happy. The problem is that it only lasts for around 15-20 minutes. I wake up in the morning, determined to make the best of my day, I look at myself in the mirror, brush, gargle, choose a combination of red, maroon and black to wear but as soon as I hit the shower, I melt, again. And then I start laughing, again. I come in terms with the fact that I am crazy, again. Then I become extra cheerful, extra happy, eat extra, extra blank. The problem is that I don’t know what is happening, how it all started, what triggers it and when did I end up becoming like this? I start missing being happy. Smiling for real. Seeing the child inside me through my eyes, buying balloons just to let them fly like you let birds out of a cage. I am locked up in nothing. Ugh, this nothing is turning out to be everything in my life.

One night when the pain is too much, I go to the washroom, again. But I am inspired. Inspired by a quote a read. A quote that said 

“You cut yourself, just to feel the pain that doesn’t kill you.”

For once, I am inspired and I decide to take action like they say in those motivational speeches. Take action.

I take action. 

I realise those speakers were right. Once you take action, you want to do it again because you see the results. You feel satisfied with the result. I felt satisfied and kept on taking action to see the red liquid stream down my arms and drop in the sink. Finally, something helps.

Months pass by and I learn to live with it. My new way of self-harm is to have a pathetic routine, excessive eating, and zero work. I learn to smile when required. A smile that convinces people that I am fine. I go out to party, have a lot of fun, I have a boyfriend that makes me feel good and at one point I feel like I’m probably okay. Maybe I was overreacting towards my emptiness. Maybe everyone has it but none is stupid like me to think about it so much. I still do get those phases where I cry like mad people but I blame PMS for it. I feel like my boyfriend, one person who loves me so much, is saving me and will completely get me out of it so, I give all of myself to him. He does push me. I do feel good. But at one point I realise that I am not in love. Neither is he. We both are just trying to save each other. And so, I leave him before he realises the same. I become arrogant and rudeness become my defence mechanism against my emptiness and hurt.

It all continues till one fine day, HE enters my room.

This is a fictitious piece, though yes it does depict a lot of truth about what happens with a person during depression. I love posting positive content and this is quite dark for my genre, but this, also, is the truth of many lives. Second part. Two more to come. I’m sure the entire story will have you more aware than before. To read Part 1 – Click here.
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