New Year, Same Old Me

Do I wish I kissed the monster goodbye on New Year's Eve? Yes I do. But changing calendars don't change some stuff. Depression is one of those things. Not the monster under your bed, but the one inside your head. If you're familiar with this health disorder, you know depression attacks don't need a trigger. Neither do they need a reason. Nor a particular time. They have their own patterns, their own way about things. Quite uncontrollable most times. And definitely not fashionable. Wouldn't wish it on anyone I know, love, or even hate.

It's been with me for way too long. There are days I wake up and I can't believe how far I've come in life. Where almost everyday is a fight for survival, of proving myself over and over again, just to move from point A to point B. And trust you me, the world is a cruel place if your vulnerability is spotted. There's no dearth of people who'll behave like friends and then backstab you the next instant. So sometimes it feels like I'm a superwoman. That I've won every struggle that's come my way, or most of them. It seems almost like a miracle when I look back at life.

And then there are days when I feel there's no point to waking up at all. There's no point existing. In fact, the only logical solution seems to be to disappear from the face of the earth. I don't even know what's the point of this fight. I don't know where I'm headed. I don't know what lies at the end of it.

And then there's people. People who are not interested in your side of the story, because they already have their own version of it... but still, they'll ask. And you'll tell them. And that will be that. We're all like this.

But living with depression for so many years, I've consciously tried to go beyond my versions and really think about others. I don't talk about it much, but it takes a huge effort on my part. It's quite a bit of a pressure I put on myself, only because I understand what it feels like to not be understood. And therefore, sometimes, my breakdowns are faster in succession. What breaks my heart, is that few return the understanding to me. Quick to blame, quicker to judge, quickest to label me the one with the problem.

I'm 33 now. I've lost many close people over the years. And I'm set to lose many more in the coming years. Because I'm never going to ask you to understand me. Because I did it for you, even without being asked. I do have a miniscule number of people in my life who are unconditional. They're the ones I count on. The rest come and go, and that's alright too. Constants are hard to find.

Each one of us is struggling. None of us are perfect. If only, we lived in a world where we looked a little beyond ourselves, life would be so much easier. But we rarely do. We're all about ourselves. And nothing beyond. And people say there's nothing wrong with that. It's a selfish world, and to survive, you have to be equally selfish.

And oh, I forgot about competition. It's all about being competitive today, isn't it? We're all going, "you think you've got problems? Wait till you hear mine. Mine are so much more complex, and much much worse. How come you're the one complaining? You should be listening to me. How insensitive are you?"

Familiar, right? Part of the reason I'd rather be a listener than discuss anything with anyone. Earns me the label of "strong, independent woman" while inside I'm breaking into a thousand pieces. As a principle, I've stopped talking about my real problems.

Not competitive, not aiming to be selfish. Then maybe, I'm the misfit. But this world doesn't have enough space for misfits. Maybe, I'll disappear soon. Until then, sorry to be a bother!