Whoever said that there’s light at the end of the tunnel
must have been on some weird form of crack. I’ve been waiting for that light
for the longest time and there has been nothing, not even a struck matchstick.
Now before you all start calling me up as most of my good friends are wont to
do. Relax, I’m not whining again. I’m not even going back to the really dark
place I was at some weeks back. All I’m going to say is that I’m adjusting to
the dark. And there are some beautiful designs right here.
Being in a bad place is awful. What’s worse has to put up a
front for the world to see. Because ain’t nobody got time to deal with your
depressed ass. And there are people who have it worse!!! So you really have no right to mope around
like a half decapitated corpse. Thus you self medicate- Trying to remember
positive things, giving yourself little goals like getting through a whole day,
trying to live like a little hippie, giving yourself funny little slogans. Then
you keep yourself really busy. Busy enough to not think. Thinking hurts.
Thinking leads to dark alleys. We all know my perpetual fear of alleys.
Thinking leads to heavy hearts and weak bodies.
Have you ever flogged a dead horse? Me neither, that’s
animal cruelty. Animal necro-cruelty (cause they’re dead). It felt something
close to it though. Have you ever met someone so bloody positive it makes you
want to punch them? Just so you could remove that stupid grin and that aura of
positivity from their essence? Then we can both be miserable together- the
perfect ambience. Telling yourself half-hearted positive shit ends up being
just that- a big bowl of shit. I would get so angry sometimes it would be
overwhelming. The night ending wasn’t helping either, because it would mean
human contact again. So much human contact, when all you want to do is curl in
bed and not move for a really long time. I kept wishing I could freeze time;
everything at a standstill; then I could scream for eternity and walk away.
I hate disappointing people, including myself. However the
past few months have been a whole big dollop of disappointments culminating to
the big cry out in the ward. I refuse to be ashamed of it though and everyone
should cut me some slack about. Restrained stress always ends up in a dramatic
release, and with Diana Abuodha, theatrics are never far behind. You can’t
please everyone I know, but that doesn’t stop me from trying. It gets worse
where leadership is involved. After the amount of critics I had post-high
school, inclusive of a former friend, I always strive to be a more ‘democratic’
leader. What I learnt, is that the fourth form captain and the paediatric
representative is that they both had their own set of challenges, and both did
have their own depressed moments. However the paediatric one has been more
emotionally challenged which is weird because of the expected age- maturity
status and has literally been on the verge of a mental breakdown. This has been
due to the progressively high output failure that I’d been courting for weeks.
I mean how do you read so much and the output not reflect it? It has caused
anxiety attacks in many a moment these few months. The fall into oblivion has
been slowly inevitable without much awareness.
It’s hard to do that when you have the most amazing friends
around you, who would go through any lengths to help you. If you just ask. I
couldn’t. Everyone had so much to deal with and in reality dealing with both
that and me would have been out of their depth. I loved them too much to burden
them with what seemed to me at the time to be a kaleidoscope of worries, fears
and attacks on my psyche. It’s no wonder my immune system was so vulnerable.
The only time I felt some relief is when I developed some form of apathy to
life. I didn’t want to live anymore. I don’t mean seriously offing myself,
though I can’t fully rule it out, I mean I didn’t want to participate anymore.
I didn’t marvel at life anymore and laugh at its inside jokes. From the moment
my eyes opened all I looked forward to was closing them again. I just maintained a routine. It was expected.
Anything out of the ordinary would have raised eyebrows, leading to questions.
Lord knows I hate probing questions. I thus allowed myself to die internally
whilst maintaining an outward appearance. Dying is really a simple business
once you decide to just embrace it. It’s kind of scary how happily I adapted to
this form of life, how little scenarios of quaint deaths filled my mind at
times. I still had that little obstinate bulb of optimism that things would get
better, given that one element-time.
Time is all I have these days. It’s the one thing you’re
granted and yet easily taken away from you. Weird, right? As I said earlier,
I’m still in a dark place, but it’s not so bad anymore. There are some
beautiful designs playing out right here I’d never paid attention to.
