Confession

By Lahari Kanadamuru

What is it that you like about an article? What is it that you crave and wish to find in one, you are willing to spend some of your precious time reading what a stranger has written? For me, it is seeking assurance that I am not alone. In our busy, “filters” filled world I wish to know someone who makes me feel okay for being who I am. Who isn’t afraid to express or stand by their vulnerable yet empathetic and compassionate nature. I am fortunate to say I have found what I was looking for.

And now I have taken upon what I have learnt and am putting it in practice. Expressing my vulnerabilities to let you know you are not alone. That just like me one day there is hope of finding what you are looking for if you wish to accept it.

To be honest I don’t know what to address. Every time I place my fingers on the keyboard it feels like an obligation I am supposed to fulfill. Imaginary people pop into my consciousness I am supposed to impress. Every one who stood by me feels like a stranger. My heart starts beating so fast and loud I don’t know if it means anything, if I should even pay it any mind or convince myself to let it pass.

I feel a void. And every time I sense it’s dominance I feel pool of tears at the back of my eyes trying to inch their way to the surface to roll down for release, for their desperate escape. Despite many attempts at trying to get better, I am where I have always been at. The struggle is still the same as it was yesterday, or the day before. I feel the same resistance from the void.

The questions I am afraid to acknowledge, the answers I should seek, the strength I wish I had, the weaknesses that had become my constant companion are what left of me. The thought that soon I will be nothing but a pile of a bones and specs of dust like everyone else doesn’t seem scary in the way it used to earlier. I am welcoming this realization, the ultimate and final truth.

Maybe it is too soon someone would say, to be thinking about all this. Another might assume I am suicidal. These are all the neon flashlights that suggest someone is contemplating about suicide. Or so I have read. In theory, maybe I do fit the description. Then how can I label the craving I have to live? Not just exist, to live.

All of this feels confusing. One moment I am talking about having found that I always wanted, the very next moment I am talking about how it has taken a downward spiral. This is how I feel though. The extreme optimism and pessimism have taken over my mind and heart, my body playing host to them doing their bidding. And I feel like I have no more resources to tip the scale to neutral.

Despite everything, all that I have said, I don’t feel depressed or lonely. I feel unique. To have someone in my life who accept me for who I am. I am grateful for all that I have more than I can ever express. It is a blessing most are not entitled to. Yet I don’t feel complete. And I feel guilty about it.

Guilty for feeling sad I am alive and happy I am not dead.

About the Author:

Lahari is a writer currently based in Bengaluru, India. A philomath by nature, she is particularly interested in the domain of mental health. She can be reached at laharikandamuru.1995@gmail.com

 

One Comment

  1. Akhil Yamannagari says:

    Pretty well articulated congratulations writer , hope you write many of such in future

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