Have you wondered how it feels to be someone who suffers from mild depression but the symptoms aren’t that deadly so nobody gives a shit?
Hold on, this isn’t any comparison or whatsoever. Every type of depression is equal and should be treated with utmost care and respect. This is NOT a competition.
I have good days and bad. Mostly good days, but the bad ones are bad enough to overshadow the good ones by a long shot. I live a pretty, good privileged life and I should be thankful for it (which I am) but that’s not the point. I don’t cry my eyes out or have trouble breathing at random, but I still “feel” like shit most of the time. A minor inconvenience fucks up my entire thought process and creates indescribable disruption. I fall into pieces which only I can assemble back. I hear everyone say, “I’m here for you if you want to talk.” ; so where do I begin? How do I explain a lifetime of battling with anxiety and “mild” depression? How do I possibly put aside the fear of getting judged while narrating my sob story to a society which constantly disappoints and puts down every human being? Be it shaming a 3 year old for what her mother made her wear or a global female icon for getting shot and making something out of her misery. And mind you, it’s not just my gender that throws me further into the deep, dark pit of depression. It’s much bigger than that.
I love how these supportive messages begin to pop up at the death of one famous entity. As soon as that fades away, so does the empathy for the dead person. It breaks my heart that people like me who are struggling every day, sometimes just to wake up and gather the energy to live a single day without overthinking, or without having to indulge in small talk, will have to keep on handling themselves because no matter what, nobody else can understand your pain like you do, nodbody gives a shit about you like you do. It’s borderline cynical but if you put some wise thoughts to it only you can save yourself, be your own best friend. The people around you, are all good just for casual encounters.
I just read about this Brit man, Graham Hughes, the first person to visit all 201 countries in the world. Without. Using. A. Plane.
It took him 1426 days and all this on a shoestring budget.
Oh. My. God. I’m. Too. Inspired.
People who follow me on Twitter might know of my constant rants and ramblings of how I’m eager to travel throughout India, so it got me all excited and thinking (but of course!) How awesome would my life be if I saved up some money, said bye bye to my wonderful family and friends and took off for a few months to travel around India, to go to every state. Like seriously, how fucking awesome would that be!
Imagine all the places I’ll get to see, the people I’ll get to meet from all walks of life, all the languages I’ll hear, all the train journeys, the yummy and not so yummy local food I’ll get to eat, all the scary, terrible situations I might have to tackle, all the fights I’ll get into, all the pictures I’ll get to take, all the stories I’ll hear and all the stories I’ll tell, all the knowledge I’ll gain. Imagine the same night sky viewed from different cities, towns and villages. What a truly beautiful experience it will be. There’ll be so much love to give and so much more to take.
I know I always say so many, many things and do nothing about it really but I hope I will make this happen someday. Soonly. ❤
Remember the story of the ugly duckling? Maybe they all don’t become swans. But what they all do turn into makes for a more exciting, lovely story called life.
When I was growing up, I was absurdly thin, I had terribly funny teeth and went on to have painfully dark skin. I had these God awful shabby fringes that did not suit my face. I wore absolutely unflattering clothes. I was laughed at for being so tall. I looked way older than my age. My posture got worse every time I felt ugly. Social gatherings and small talk scared me. I wanted to be in the library or the park every evening. I wanted to sit like a boy. Didn’t matter to anyone that I was intelligent or had big dreams. No!
This girl once said “oh, you look nice today…from behind”. Another girl said “Let’s put some make up on you so you can look pretty”. I ruined every photograph. I made parties boring. I wore my skirt too high. I was eating too much. No boy had a crush on me or wanted to write me silly love letters. I wasn’t pretty but my exam results made everyone happy.
This went on for years together. I stopped caring. I stopped giving a fuck. And gradually something changed. Funny teeth made for a big, happy smile. Thinness gave way to curves. Hair pins and conditioner made for good hair days. Clothes meant for curves were found. Sense of humor and love for people led to great conversations. Men at bars were offering to buy drinks (Oh, the joy of politely declining!) Compliments were growing in number. Standing tall became sexy!
I’m so grateful that I had it in me to laugh it all off. That I had enough sense to know looks do not matter. I still can’t take a compliment without making an awkward situation out of it. I still cannot look straight into the camera without cringing a little. But today, I can show you my “not pretty” pictures from the past and we can laugh together at my rabbit teeth. Today I will compliment at least one person. Today I can travel, make friends, fall madly in love, laugh, help people, eat enormous pizzas and live the way I want to. None of the things I love doing involves looking pretty and God am I happy!