Here Is Where I Give Up
Tags: Isolation, Depression, Anxiety, Suicide, Sadness

Photo by Jonas Svidras on Unsplash

I usually write whatever thought pops up in my brain. I usually write a lot. Something about long paragraphs and never-ending sentences with a large pinch of commas and semi-colons scare people; they don’t read it and even on the most public platforms, my words stay obscure.

This time, for some reason, I feel self-conscious about writing. Putting barriers around my mind is not something I’m good at. Full disclosure, this may not be the most brutally honest jumble of words I’ll write.

Sadness is tiring. It is not just you who get fed up with the mess I have made of my life and my constant whining and broken sentences. It’s not a ‘little much’ just for you. I am also fed up. I have given up. It is been 7 years. I have had a long battle. I have not given up easily. At various points in my life (that is all points in my life) I have tried to make peace with this constant state of emptiness and forsakenness. It does not look like there is a way out of it.

I have nothing against people who have led fortunate lives. It just the uneasiness I feel while telling them about my life. It’s the shock and look of distaste on their face, disapproval, disbelief and finally, sympathy. It is miles apart, talking to someone who gets it and talking to someone who does not. With former, you don’t have to tell them how it felt. With latter, you are burdened with the task to make them understand the magnitude of the sadness you felt.

The best advice you will ever get regarding dealing with rejection or breakup is ‘surrounding yourself with friends.’ The worst advice your mind will give you is that you need isolation to heal. Being isolated is a trap. You get used to it, addicted even. Nothing feels as good and as ungodly. The silence becomes captivating. Bewitching.

Photo by Jonathan Borba on Unsplash

Maybe that is what depression and/or anxiety do to you. It’s constant overthinking. If I don’t overanalyze this through, overwork this enough I will lose my grip on the situation. It is easy to spiral. I am spiraling but I have gotten used to it. It’s the Stockholm Syndrome. You remain inside your head too long, it becomes a home. The screams of terror and the constant chaos become calming. Familiar.

There is solace in the state of hysteria. Panic.

And here is where I give up. Where the panic ends and there is no solace. Where friends are maxed out on consolation and words don’t do their damn job. Where Xanax does not work after day one and my caffeine addiction just goes away by itself. Where I stop needing the need to sleep and lying awake becomes second nature. Where ‘home’ just cease existing and I stop wanting really anything (نَفْس).

Have you ever curled up southwest on the bed, hair pushed away from the neck, not facing the window, eyes wide open, nothing in focus, chanting one thing and only one thing in your mind like a mantra.

Holding still.

Willing nothing to fluctuate, willing people to never leave, willing hearts to never change, willing hands to never let go, willing consistency, willing strength, willing everything to stay like this forever, willing time to freeze, willing present to stay present. Holding still.

Holding yourself still. Holding on. If you hold still enough you will stop everything from spiraling out of control.

Here is where I give up: where no matter how hard you hold yourself still, your life cease being in your control.