lost & found

I am the youngest in the family. There’s a decade of an age gap between my siblings and I. My brother and sister born two years apart. Basically they are friends by birth. I had always been trying to fit between them, but every time I fell flat on my face. Hallelujah, birth of self-esteem issues. And, I am from a family where no one bothers unless you are physically ill.

Like my other two siblings, my parents got me admitted into the most posh school in the city at that time. I found the girls funny always talking about dolls and dresses and the boys fighting over nothing. They used to have cliques at the age of 5 which seems hilarious now. As you can guess, I obviously couldn’t make any friends. I used to walk around alone during tiffin break and get bullied by a senior. I still have no idea what her problem was with me. Clearly we had never met before but she used to stand in my way and abuse me without any logical reason.

My class was very competitive and I wasn’t a bad student. I used to secure my place within the top 10. However, that ever going contest started to seem funny to me after a while. And, I gave up after a few years. You can ask how an 8 year old thinks of all these? Truth is I don’t know the answer yet but I clearly remember how I felt or how the weather was. With having no friends, there was only little I could do. I struggled to make new friends and eventually, I had become the class clown. Everyone used to make fun of me and my curly hair. After 5th grade, it became mostly about how rich you were. Money never had the pull on me even though I come from a middle class family. My parents didn’t spend on anything else except for studies. In their words, we three siblings were their wealth for which they got rewards; my other two siblings are in very good stages in their careers. And me? I don’t know where life takes me. After all, I am still 21. As I was saying, I used to face bullying every day. I cried when no one watched while praying it to be over. You have no clue how much words can hurt. That unbearable pain in chest because you cannot share your pain with anyone.

Two years before high school, I had to change school. I just couldn’t take it anymore. In the new school, people seemed to welcome me with open arms. It was a breath of fresh air. There was little competition, but the “how rich are you?” contest were nowhere to be seen. I learned how to connect to people; understand their words if not spoken out loud. I had my first relationship. Everything seemed just perfect. I became one of those popular people; everyone chanted my name everywhere. I seemed to enjoy that for a while. Then I realized that I was an introvert person and all those popularity hurt my privacy. So, I didn’t stay there to complete my high school. After finishing high school, I faced the first breakup. I couldn’t breathe. My whole world started shaking beneath me. I learned how anxiety could be a bitch. Either it was nagging anxiety or not feeling anything at all. In order to go on, I let the pain motivate me. The more pain I’d get, the more I’d get motivated. What I didn’t realize was, I was drowning myself slowly. I had tried to kill myself twice. It’s safe to say I’m struggling with depression and bullying for the most of my life. And, I didn’t get help when I needed it the most.

Finally, I had this eureka moment after 20 years. I decided to change the way my life was going. I started writing. I know I’m no J.K. Rowling, but I found it rather refreshing and therapeutic. I also started meditating which helped a great deal. I learned to let go of the bad things and finally allowed myself to be happy. I had this great self esteem issue. I used to shy away from meeting new people in fear of rejection. Now, I’m not afraid of rejections. All I’m saying is, those celebrity books about depression won’t help you unless you allow yourself to change; to be happy. Depression is a curse. It doesn’t completely go away. But it’s your demon; it’s up to you if you give it the power to ruin your life.


Big girls don’t cry

I tell myself that I am a big girl in this big world and I can face any curve ball that life throws in my way. But here I am.. Sitting with my notebook and pen. One of my acquaintances took her life a couple of days ago. Well, I won’t lie, a part of me understands her reason. For once, she thought only about herself. Though I wish she had taken help for her depression. You don’t need it in writing to know if someone’s is suffering from depression. I suffer from it too from time to time. It got severe a few times. But as I don’t believe in the afterlife, I thought I would never get another shot in life. This is not a game where you get several lives. So I decided to help myself. That’s a story for another time. As I was saying a part of me understood her reason; the other part of me was completely heartbroken. We weren’t close but it took a few days to process. I know we live in a big bad world and to some this is all nothing but a complete nonsense. But I get completely shattered every time I hear a news like this. It’s like  part of me has died with the deceased. A few days ago, I was sitting in the emergency ward in a hospital. People were dying like fleas and I didn’t even flinch. My friend commented that I was dead from the inside. But only I knew what was going inside of me. I was completely shattered. It’s hard to express my feelings. Or I just don’t want people to see what’s going inside of me. I even crack jokes when I’m tensed. When I was 10, I almost lost my brother. The whole ground was shaking beneath me. I would give anything not to feel like that again. But since then it has been easier to connect with the pain of others. It feels like a curse. I don’t even know why my heart does its crushing drama when I hear about something like that. I know in order to survive in this world, I should always put my strong face on and choke out my emotions. But emotions.. Would I be a human without them?