Somehow, when I was on my last shred of hope and the clouds of despair grew pretty heavy, the rain stopped. Even if it wasn’t sunshine or rainbows, it wasn’t as dreary as it was before. I assumed that’s how life will be. I trained myself to look at the sunny side up.
You must be thinking how this little anecdote is related to the title… so for those of you impatient brats, wait. Wisdom shall be bestowed on those who persevere and as for the rest of you let’s continue.
Now as you can imagine, life isn’t always peaches and roses, and sadly for me,
I grew up, I grew up cynical. As you can well imagine, life happened to little Ms. Cheery Happy me. Nowadays it takes me days to even get over a rude remark I overhear from someone. And I replay my mistakes and moments of embarrassment over and over in my head. It is like a broken record of “I am not good enough” starring ME. It sucks really.
All I wanna do is cuddle myself into a fetal position and sleep for an eternity, skipping all future awkward encounters. But then the rational side of me (believe me, I DO have one, but she’s more of a sleeping partner) reminds me that there are better ways to deal with it. Bottle it up and shove it down. Nobody cares about a depressed person. And so I go on with my life, laughing a bit too loudly, too conscious about everything, always on guard. Jahan kisi ne kuch bola wahen phadda shuru.
Bearing the weight of feelings
Then my dead conscience wakes up and I remind my sullen self that I am cheating my way through life if I don’t let myself bear the full weight of my feelings. And so I let them come back into my mind, one by one. They often don’t follow my rules and come crashing in all at once. It often leaves me covered in sweat and tears and broken memories and this nauseating feel of incompetence.
My mind constantly throws insults at me. “I am not good enough”. “I am not worth being loved or cared for”. “I am making others suffer because of my attitude”. “BAD DAUGHTER”. “BAD SISTER”.”BAD FRIEND”. “BAD DOCTOR”. “BAD GIRLFRIEND”. This isn’t the end. Self-hate is the only thing that makes you realize what hatred truly means. It is exhausting. It leaves you clutching at your sides at 4 am, gasping for air. I would slap you if you tell me this at that time, but this feeling does pass. Slowly but gradually, the clouds do break. And that’s all we need, that little chink in the armor.
Everyone thinks that people who suffer from depression are too “sensitive”. In fact, they are the bravest among us. They know how to fight against themselves because they have learned the art of sleeping with the enemy.
Pheww! That was heavy… Anyhow… The moral of this story is, be kind to people because you don’t know what they are going through. And I know it all sounds like a bullshit cliche but remind yourself to “imagine others complexly”. Put it on a post-it and stick it to your bathroom mirror. Remind yourself every day, that before you open your mouth you should weigh your words because they can have a serious impact on others. And you can call them a wuss or whatever. You won’t be a decent human being if you don’t try to empathize with others.
Credit for the featured image goes to Muhammad Danish Khan. To see more of Danish’s photography, visit his Instagram @iamkhandanish