I’m going to try not to make this post sound too much like the “Thought Catalog” articles that I have been burying my nose in these past couple of days. I guess the easiest way to avoid that is to personalize the hell out of this.
Boyy I have struggled this week.
Depression is a strong word but it felt like half-way there.
There are few things that annoy me like people self-victimizing and complaining about how good and unappreciated they are. Although their words are probably true, I detest the condescending tone that suggests that nobody else is possibly as good as they are. But one can’t help but feel like a victim sometimes (mostly times like these).
My school life had all the trademarks of a down week. For one, I was late for the bus on every.single.day. I didn’t do my hair, put on earrings or wear lip-gloss even once. I was sleeping in classes yet that was all I was doing at home. I kept falling asleep in my uniform and skipped supper. I couldn’t get myself to study, yet our final exams start in one week. Then I felt bad about not studying. I looked at and shared a larger than usual number of memes but the momentary grunt of laughter did nothing really to lift my spirits. Despite the fact that we were all doing so, I was the one caught in the act of watching YouTube videos during time for study. Because I wanted to avoid conflict and took the seat by the door which no one else was willing to. This was one of those rare weeks where I was genuinely grateful and excited for Friday. And this particular Friday marked the beginning of study leave which I couldn’t be more ready for.
On Thursday evening, I got home feeling extremely deflated. My heart hurt but I knew there was no advice that would magically heal things, and I was pretty tired of hearing cliché and unpractical things. Also, I’m pretty sure everyone in my close circle was sick of hearing about it, so I ate a donut and switched off my phone, willing the feeling away. I wasn’t aware that I had fallen asleep in my full school uniform (belt and tie and socks and everything) and I wasn’t conscious of how much time had passed, but the next thing I noticed was my favorite little niece, Jayden Rose, standing before me. She was wearing a purple princess dress and had a crown on her head. She was nudging my shoulder without saying anything and I was 99% sure I was hallucinating this. I finally got up and accepted that no, I wasn’t tripping, and indeed it was Jayden standing before me and it was her birthday. Along with my consciousness, all the negative feelings weighing my heart down returned in a gush. When my adorable nephew ran into my room a couple minutes later, I hugged him a little too tight, hoping to alleviate my inner pain. It didn’t work of course. Hugs aint drugs.
After saying their hellos, my little niece and nephew began their barrage of questions as per the usual. “Why were you sleeping?”, “Why are you unhappy?”, “Are you happy to see us?”, “Can we make cards?”, “Why is your room so dirty?”
After the last question, I looked around and realized that they were right. My niece actually had to stand on her tiptoes, because I had left the pieces from a print I had been cutting out for Art on the ground. The sight of her standing on her toes and scrunching up her fingers because the rubber pieces were piercing her feet actually snapped me back to reality and I realized I had let things spiral a bit, so much so that it was becoming a hazard to other innocent people. As I tidied up my room a little, I watched them play and recalled something my cousin had said to me a couple days back. About how kids brought out the best in people because of their innocence. So I decided to momentarily forget any feelings of sadness I had and play with them, in the selfish hope that it would make me feel better.
It wasn’t until after they had left that I realized the effect they had had on me. I had woken up, cleaned my room, acted in a kindly way. I had tried to be the person my niece and nephew think I am/ see me as. And that person was a whole lot better than the way I was acting.
On Friday evening, after taking one more painful yet probably necessary blow to my heart, I actually felt better. But trying to talk about it instead brought on a wave of hopelessness. And I lay down crying, trying to think of one single person in my life who I have placed hopes and expectations in, believed the best of them, and they haven’t been a disappointment. All the people I have poured my heart out to, shown my broken pieces, decided to throw all caution to the wind and trust…and each time I end up crying by myself.
I have to accept and understand that others are different, so it is unfair to place blame. And I have no doubt that I have been a disappointment to countless people in my lifetime. And I have to put into consideration that nobody is perfect, and it’s about whether the positives outweigh the negatives. But I can’t help but ask myself why for once…just once…someone can’t just get it right. Why can’t things just be great…and stay great? Why can’t people stay? Why can’t I have my ocean of feeling met with a mutual ocean of feeling? At times like these I strongly believe that I might never be able to find healing in this life.
Now I am able to realize that every single feeling is temporary (tattoo goals?) I know that I’m not going to feel this way next week and the pessimism is a side effect of the sadness. Or the sadness is a side effect of the pessimism.
I have to remember that I don’t deserve a lot of the good things in my life, the same way I don’t deserve a lot of the bad things.
And most importantly…I have to remember to be grateful.
Song of the week- Sermon by James Arthur
Quote of the week- “The poison leaves bit by bit, not all at once. Be patient. You are healing.”