An Excerpt from the Diary of a Nineteen Year Old Depressed

It hits you, all of it, all at once, on a normal Saturday evening, while you sip the green tea under the sky so vast and the one with the perfect concoction of blues and violets. Your world, it shatters, it crumbles under the colossal burden of your hopes, aspirations, expectations & the love you deserve but the one which never finds its way to you. The next thing you know is the world you spent your life building up, filling up with petty peeps, thinking it’ll always remain intact even if you don’t; your very own small world is falling apart so rapidly yet silently and you can’t even help it. The chaos within you is unexplainable, it’s so devastating yet the outside world seems so ‘normal’, so ‘unreal‘. You break. You suffocate. You want to breathe but you can’t. You want to live but life is so dull. You want to make something out of yourself but you don’t find the strength in you anymore so you just break down with no one to hold you. Your broken pieces, they just lie on the ground, right in front of you whilst no one comes for your rescue. Everybody is busy attending a party, hanging out with friends or getting ready for a sleep over and you just sit with a cup of green tea in your hand and wonder where exactly you went wrong. The same torturous questions wander through your mind. They take up the every corner. They push out the happy memories. It’s their kingdom now. You’re stuck in the realm of your unanswerable questions. Why isn’t life the same for you as it is for others; colourful, vibrant, eventful. Why do people end up doing you wrong. Why does nothing fascinates you. Why do you feel hollow from within. Every day, every moment why does the agony only increase. How do you call for help. Where are your friends. Did you even have any in the first place. Why can’t you recall the last time you were really happy. What are the things which make you happy. Why are you stuck. Where are you stuck. You wonder and wonder until you can’t anymore. A white invisible cloud of sadness overwhelms your whole being. Everything’s hazy. The whole world seems murky. You seem nonexistent, insignificant and all the things people don’t aspire to be. You seem worthless. You’re tired. There’s no point in going on. There’s no point in fighting for this life, for yourself, for ‘your people’ anymore. Everyone is happy in their respective world. You couldn’t give yourself the happiness you deserve so you give up. You give up because there’s nothing else you can do. You want to end the misery. The sadness is killing you, but for all you know, you won’t let it. In your heart of hearts you know, you’ll kill yourself before anything else can kill you…

It’s high time we talk about depression and put an end to the stigma associated with it in our society. Believe me, when I say depression is as real as your existence. We’ve lost so many peeps to depression and it’s really time we accept depression as it is i.e: a mental illness. HAVING SUICIDAL THOUGHTS IS NO JOKE; NO DRAMA. Brown societies need to realise that this is very real & very destructive. Please watch out for the ones you care about. Depression is such a toxic illness; you won’t even realise when your dear ones are suffering from it but it’ll eat them up from inside. If you’re someone or you know someone who suffers from depression, I urge you to seek professional help. DON’T HESITATE PLEASE. DEPRESSION IS NOT OKAY AND YOU CAN’T JUST SNAP OUT OF IT. I repeat, DEPRESSION IS AS REAL AS OUR EXISTENCE.
It’s okay to seek help if you think you’re depressed. No one deserves to have suicidal thoughts and if you do have, you’re not mad; ‘depression is an illness just like Diabetes or Asthma’ and yes, everyone deserves to be treated.

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Of Unicorns and Miracles

Surviving and being alive are two different things; the sooner you realize this, the better.

Only fools believe in unicorns
I’m a fool I believe
But God,
Let me believe in miracles
And unicorns
And mermaids
Let me be happy with my beliefs
Just this once
Let me be hopeful
Let me believe that people still fall in love
With places and books and caf├ęs and humans
Let me believe love exists
In smiles and texts and hugs and cuddles
Let me believe loved ones can live an eternity together
In moments and dreams and hopes and admist all impossibilities
Let me believe some people really stick by you
During happiness and misery alike
Let me be naive
Let me be heartbroken
But Oh God, let me be alive
Just this once
I want to be alive.

Reverie

I tell myself it’s okay
It’s okay to lose a friend I thought I’ll explore the world with
It’s okay not to be loved back
It’s okay not to feel anything sometimes
It’s okay to feel a little too much at times
It’s okay to cry myself to sleep at nights
It’s okay to wake up feeling numb most mornings
And It’s okay not to be okay all the time
A day shall rise tomorrow
The same sun yet a new day
A day if not of joy, that of less pain probably
A day of hope which is currently lost
A day of smiles even if they’re broken
A day of gaining even if I have to lose most of it afterwards
A day of less agony
A day less like a night
A day more like a day.

Being Human

I’m tired
Tired of this world
And the people who dwell here
Cladded in embellished silk
Chattering and laughing in their lofty mansions.
I’m tired of this world
And its ugliness
No, not the one you see in slums
But the kind you only see
Behind their closed gold doors
And royal gardens
And sick mentality
And punk social sertup.
I’m tired of carrying the weight
Of merely being a human
It’s so nerve wracking
It’s so stressful
And helpess too
When I see a child
Across the road
Begging for money
A wretched sight indeed
His obnoxious presence
Makes them frown
They say his vile odour
Contaminates the air
That child I can see
Is deprived of love, food and decent clothes
His torn shoes
Give me goosebumps
But I must not go near a ‘thing’
So dirty and scarred
I must keep my distance
So the ugliness keeps its distance from me
That’s what they say
So I take their word
I hand him a 10 rupee note
As if he can buy
A whole meal with that
Shaking the thoughts I go on,
Look out the window again
Only to see
Another child
Yet another one,
More of them,
Children;
So many children
Then widows,
Diseased,
And drug addicts
And then I see myself
And Wonder
If I am really different from them
I know I’m not
I’m torn like them
The only difference is
Their brokenness is visible
Mine, I keep it hidden
I must keep it this way
So that they never know
So that no one can ever know
How convergent we all fundamentally are
Yet we fake as if
We all can never be equal
Indifferent entities
Indifferent humans
Drunk on the ideas
Of superiority and pretentiousness
A pity indeed
But also
A heart-breaking spectacle
For all I know
Afterall
I’m a human too
And I’m tired of it.