December 27. Four days before we celebrate the onset of a new year. And I already feel hopeless.
This year started off well with me telling myself that I was positively over a friend of five years, putting a full-stop to all the hurt and disbelief that consumed me in the previous year, in the first month itself. That was turning point number one because I felt like I could actually control my life.
But only a few months after, my relationship came to a halt. I was fine, I told myself. Listless, yes. But doing okay. Then there was a lull for a few months, and then I found myself in a black hole again. Crying for no reason, losing interest in everything, insecure, vulnerable, and just plain sad.
I needed to do something about it. I knew I could do better. I applied for internships for I was in want of a change of surroundings; of new faces around me. Luckily, I found one that was perfect for me then. Turning point number two.
I lived in another city for two months among new, warm people. I found my voice again. I made new friends, replenished my confidence. When the two months ended, I came back home sad but glowing. I was sad to see it ending but I was happy that it happened. It was what I needed to pull myself back up. Had the internship not happened, I don’t know where I would have been today.
Now it has been five months since I moved back in. And the gloom is upon me again. Turning point number three. I don’t know what is going wrong, what I am doing wrong. But I have lost interest again. I am not writing, I am not reading, I am not studying when I absolutely should be. There is no excuse. But I just don’t want to do anything. I just want to curl up in my blanket and not face anyone.
When I think about it, I really don’t have anything to complain about. It’s not like I have tangible problems that prevent me from achieving heights that I know I am capable of achieving. It’s all in my head. And it has a strong hold on me.
I can’t help but sound sad and pathetic all the time. Be it my tweets, my conversations, or as you can see, my blog. I just can’t help it. I tell my friends not to let their problems consume them, but as it turns out, I am a classic case of preach, don’t practice.
My sister will probably comment on how depressing I am coming across with this post. But really, what is wrong with that? It is the truth, is it not?
I have hardly five days before I take a very crucial exam; an exam capable of being a positive turning point in my life. And I haven’t touched my books. I am wasting days upon days, fully conscious of the passing time, but I am doing nothing.
Really. What have I done to myself? I miss the old me. I was happy back then. I was capable of cracking jokes, making conversations. I was capable of approaching new people with confidence, of expressing myself.
And what am I now? …
I know this is not a fitting post when happiness and festivities infect the air. And I’m not even sure if I should publish it. But I couldn’t help posting it anyway. Because all that joy seems superficial to me, out of my reach. I am smiling, but I am numb.
With this post I’m hoping I will leave my troubles behind and walk into the next year with a grin on my face. But as I type this, it sounds way too ambitious.
Well. Here’s hoping.