A story : Wish For a warning

  • Amal Raju

She wishes she had a warning.

She wishes that when she woke up, someone would be there, with a slightly sad, yet encouraging smile, to tell her that today was going to be rough, that she would be questioning every single aspect of her life,

she would tread the fine lines of connection between anxiety and depression, that there would be this ugly feeling within her, desperately clawing within her to get out, to make people understand the panic inside, but all she could display was a lethargic face, of one who was too tired of trying, who just wanted to survive.

Humans are necessarily sad, dark creatures. We do not have even a streak of happiness or any other positive emotion within us. Yet, some of us manage to live past that horrible fog; they drive through and focus on the small smiles and the bright eyes and the steady steps leading them towards their goal that they’re so sure, so damn sure, of achieving.

It’s admiration, along with a side of envy; how does it look so simple, as simple as breathing, when she struggled to get out of bed even if the day was filled with sunshine and chirping birds because all she could see was darkness. It was a struggle engraved onto her veins, to do the simple daily things, to brush, to bathe, to breathe.

Sometimes, a little voice within her encourages her to not eat, just to see if lack of food could spark an emotion in her numb frame.It often fails.

How do you translate the struggle between the contrasting things that she desired for? On one hand, she adored the loneliness, loved how it seeped into her bones and left her free at moments, loved how there was no necessity of having to speak to someone, to express her thoughts that were best left a tangled mess deep within the crevices of her mind.

But sometimes, in some moments, when she stepped into a darkened room when the repetitive sounds of the rotating fan hit her ears when she saw couples or friends laughing; those times, she silently wished for somebody’s company, a quiet breathing by her side was all she asked for. Lonely and alone were two sides of the same coin, and it is with difficulty she realized that this mix of emotions would always accompany her.

How could you desperately seek love and be terribly scared of it all in one breath? How could you wish for someone to talk to who truly understands you, yet shy away from all kinds of communication or socialization?

How could you wish for someone to explore all of you when you shivered with panic at the very first touch?

Maybe it was all for the best. Maybe she didn’t need anyone to survive. Maybe she and all of these disgustingly conflictive emotions can stay squeezed and crumbled within her, reflecting the tragedy that she truly felt she was. Because this deep struggle and over-thinking and anxiety and the subsequent fall of courage she felt at the lack of success in her many endeavors were too much of effort. Was living supposed to be this hard?

She winced as she got up, placing her legs on the cold floor. The weight of her thoughts and strongly bickering emotions seemed to hang upon her, questioning her depleting reserves of mental strength. She couldn’t live like this, thinking too much about every step she was about to take, forcing herself to step out of the comfort zone she had created for herself, only to be severely disappointed every single time. A small tear rolled off. It seemed to reduce some of the burdens.

She looked up and a sardonic smirk crossed her chapped lips, the dried tear tracks constricting her motion slightly. The day had only begun.

She wished she had a warning.


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