Okay, they say writing your feelings down can be therapeutic. Let’s try it out. They also say that you should share your feelings. I usually don’t know how to express my feelings because I myself don’t understand what is it that I am feeling often times. Or, even I when I do, I fear judgment and hold things back. Not here. I’m sure most people won’t even make it this far of my writing and those who do are the ones who truly and deeply care about me. So, let’s be a little vulnerable here. Besides, how much more can you hurt me than I already am?
If you turn to the 5th page of the OPD book I’m provided by my psychatrist, there are few words scribbled there.
mood tremors? (unclear)
- Occasional alcohol intake
I’m ignoring everything else that is unreadable or just prescription meds.
From as long as I remember, I was a very unassertive kid. I didn’t know how to ask for what I wanted so I kept quiet. I was shy. All my friends are the people who came to talk to me first and there are some who would consider me a friend but I don’t feel that comfortable around. My mom says that was not how I was as a kid and was very bright. That I was a very cheerful kid and it sometimes breaks her heart to see me like this. But then every parent feels that their kid is bright.
I don’t know how it started? During 7th to 8th grade, my grades were dropping. And I’d started developing crushes on a few girls, even a female teacher. I simply didn’t have the guts to do anything about it. I felt weak and pathetic but I still had friends. Life was going on with the childhood drama we all have.
I loved trying stupid science experiments and magic tricks. I was still open to life. And, then I started getting insecure. I remember when my English teacher told me “Abhishek, you’re really lagging behind.” It really made me feel like utter crap.
And, my parents changed my school after the district level examination. My grades sucked. That’s when things started getting really downhill. I was in a place where everyone was so foreign to me. I grew up with computers and video games and in this place, nobody cared about those things. Bullying was a norm in this place. Every day, I’d get to watch some of my friends getting beaten. I just didn’t study. I didn’t care about studies. In my head, I was going to die by the next year. Then, 9th passed and then 10th passed. Don’t ask me how. All I remember is, I was up all night on facebook the whole time. So, many strangers came and went.
Most of my +2 went by being depressed. I was living with undiagnosed mental health issues and I knew that I was living through it. I had no will to do anything. I would try to study. I would open my books and stare at it for hours but turns out my mind was somewhere else. I would never make it past the first page.
A lot of short-lived relationships in between. A lot of negotiations and a lot of hurt feelings.
But then, I thought someone special came by the second semester of my college. It was as if I had never been in love before. We had a rough two years. I wish I could go back and act more mature. Become a more assertive guy, who fixes things rather than one who runs away from his problems like he always did. And I tried. My god, I tried. Ignoring the accusations, all the negotiations, and all the drama, I was properly in love.
But, that’s the thing with life. It shows you a glimpse of hope and leaves you hanging by the rope. I wish I was not this neurotic guy but rather someone who was much more mature but I tend to go back to my roots and it hurts.
I would convince people, to convince that I will change. But, will I?
Being suicidal has been a norm to me. I want the pain to end. But, I still want to hope that things will get better. I want to reach out. I don’t know how to. Inside this messy looking bearded dude, is a guy yelling on top his lungs … HELP!