I’ve been carrying around this feeling- in the pit of my stomach, the base of my neck, in the little crevices under my eyes. It is achy and wet and a pulsating mess of emotions- a slimeball of ugly, if you will. The worst colour imaginable and the most awkward texture- wrinkly, corrugated, rough to touch. This feeling is endless, like a sea. Relentless, like a storm. It persists even at my happiest.
It’s only recently that I realised that this feeling isn’t even a feeling. It’s this year taking shape within my mind. It is the realisation that the world is crumbling as I lay in bed, as I eat my eggs, as I give my dog a goodnight kiss- all too snug in my cocoon of comfort.
That being said, this year has been an absolute emotional behemoth. Two months in, I had to move back home from college. I went through an excruciatingly painful break up in the midst of isolation that left me immobile. I spent weeks marinating in my little love puddle- playing songs tainted with loss, sobbing like a petulant child and just being a general pain in the neck for my family and friends. I learned the hard way that when people show you who they really are, you must believe them. If you fall in love with potential, with the thought of someone, then the relationship is yours and yours only. It’s not a two way street, it’s a rocky downhill path at best.
Apart from that, I was also plucked from the mellow mundaneness of my life in Bangalore and dropped back in my childhood bedroom with a resounding thud. This unprecedented move has been tumultuous, to say the least. To have my wings clipped (by which I mean my bi weekly drinking plans have been nipped in the bud by my brown parents) at the cusp of womanhood like this, what a shame.
The recurring theme of this godforsaken year has been the loud voices in my head. Definitely more Donnie Darko, not at all Harley Quinn. I wasn’t prepared to face my insecurities, my fears and everything grey in my life absolutely head on. There wasn’t enough cheap rum, menthol cigarettes and loud laughter of my girlfriends to drown out the incessant drumming noises of negativity in my head. As much as I’d like to say I made it through- I didn’t. I am, at best, in the middle of the tunnel. The eerie glow of my future looms large and the memory of sunnier days are behind me- I am smack in the middle. In the dark, but unafraid.
To have finished one whole academic year in my bedroom, seems so bizarre. I didn’t think I had it in me, but as it turns out I do. If things improve, I might even leave home to pursue my Master’s. Funny how something that was a given, an obvious choice, seems like a pipe dream now.
When I think of the bigger picture and of course, the reason behind it all – the phenomenon I swore I wouldn’t name in this piece – I am overwhelmed with gratitude.
I could have had it much worse. My heart goes out to those in pain- there will be better days. My deepest condolences to anyone who’s lost anyone. I have known loss, and it wasn’t pretty.
Thank you to those who left me alone when I needed them the most and a bigger thank you to those who walked in, sat at my table, and decided to stay for dinner. You warm my heart.
P.S.: Pardon my French, but f*ck Zoom.