It’s the constant gnawing and confusion that’s hard to explain. Something has started to eat me inside and I am not able to point it out. What is this heaviness in my head? This is not a headache. I must be sick Is it an impending fever? No, it’s not. I know it will stay with me for a while. I’m afraid? I’m trying to acknowledge its existence. I have been told that the sheer understanding of this is the cure.
There is this melancholy that sinks in and persists everywhere. It’s like everything around has turned gray and black. There is no other color. There is no need for any other color. Why do I feel like crying all the time? There is no apparent reason to cry! Yet that’s how it feels. The tears need to come out. Suddenly, the fatigue becomes overwhelming. Every ounce of energy is being drained. My limbs are getting weak and there is an urgent need for sleep. I sleep like there is no tomorrow, not wanting to wake up because I no longer want to see the world. My bed has become my savior.
What has happened to my hobbies and the activities I loved? I’m losing interest in everything. All the events happening around me feel like a movie running from a distance.
Fatigue has become an important part of my life. How do you explain this to someone? Is there a noticeable change in my appetite? Eating habits have changed. I have started to isolate myself.
I feel dead. This sinking feeling won’t leave me. I’m breathless. There’s this heaviness in my heart that’s taking my breath away. I feel disappointed, with myself and with the people around me. Why do others disappoint me? It’s like I’ve become brittle like a thin piece of glass, which will break at the slightest touch. It is mid afternoon. Because I do not have hungry? I force myself to eat something that fewer people ask for. Now, I want to throw up. I no longer exist My existence has become blurred. The invisible line between life and death seems to be playing with me. I am still finding it difficult to breathe. I look around frantically, searching for someone to help me. How do I ask for help? What do I say? Do I tell them that my heart sinks, I can’t breathe and I feel eternally tired? How can anyone understand this until they feel it themselves? They will assume that I am sick or have a fever and advise me to rest. They will ask me to go out with friends. How do I tell them that social interaction is the last thing I want to do right now? I feel this numbering pain in my shoulders and neck. I’m sick?
I drink a glass of cold water. Somehow it feels right as it goes down my neck. I can feel it working its way down my throat. I look around me again. People are busy in their own worlds. I have no idea how to ask for help. I take a walk to the bathroom, lock myself in a cubicle, and the tears begin to roll. Why am I crying? I have everything possible to make my life comfortable. What are these tears for? What do I want from others? If happiness comes from within, where is it now? The questions are endless and there are no answers. My mind has become a jungle of thoughts. I hate myself. Yes.
Regardless of what has happened to me, this condition is debilitating. Will this kill me or will I kill myself? Someone had once told me that suicide is not a way out. I believe in this. What if my soul gets stuck in a spiral for thousands of years? There would be no respite from that. I have to find a way to get out of here. Medications do help. There are friends who are willing to sit down with me and listen without prejudice. How do I tell them that despite longing for a human touch, I dare not see anyone? Yes, it is a controversial situation. I want to be surrounded by people who love me and at the same time, any socialization hates me. How could anyone understand that?
Now I’m thinking about what could calm me down. A walk among the trees, breathing deeply in the fresh air and the relaxing green color, sounds like paradise. A chat over a cup of tea also seems like a good proposal to me. Good nutrition is always considered therapeutic. I must avoid alcohol. Although it would give a momentary euphoria, the consequences would be more discouraging. As I think about these things, I realize that my breathing has returned to normal. I am no longer oblivious to what is happening around me. I can hear what others around me are talking about. Yes, it’s gone for now. I also know it will be back, and I can’t imagine its tempo. I am scared. However, that is how it is. So I am special.
I am grateful that this has made me more sensitive to the emotions of others. I no longer judge people. Yes, I’m taking a deep breath now. My heart is lighter. I will continue to move on with my life for now. I remember someone said that we would only believe what our eyes can see. The invisibility of my affliction is a curse I must bear. Today, I take baby steps forward, embracing every little sparkle that comes my way.
