I think I’ve been suffering from depression since my childhood. I don’t know the exact reason for this. Even experts in the medical field can’t always determine the reason for such depression. So, my failure in doing so is part of the norm I guess. I’ve made a few guesses though. One could be my physical problems. I’ve been obese since I was a kid and that has probably caused hormonal imbalances in my body. Another reason would probably be the sexual molestation I had to face as a kid. It was someone living on the apartment beside ours. To be more precise, he was our landlady’s brother. What he did to me might be light compared to actual penetration and rape but it was still shocking to me. I still shudder thinking about what would happen if he wasn’t caught before things progressed too far. Maybe he’d progress to vaginal penetration and if things got worse, he’d probably kill me. I think that childhood memory has damaged some part of my mind or consciousness. I’ve become a broken soul somehow. Another reason for my depression could be my characteristic traits of cowardice and escapism. Most of the time, I tend to be a ‘sissy’. Since my parents never let me face too many hardships, I’ve turned into an escapist who runs away at the slightest glimpse of trouble. So these reasons could be working together to cause depression in me. I wonder how I should break away from this clingy disease.
I think I’ve reached my limit already. Life has somehow become unbearable. I always knew that I was a weakling, but I never thought that I was THIS weak. I’m completely vulnerable and fragile in my mind. Even small setbacks make me feel like I’ll topple over the edge. It’s suffocating. I’m not sure why and for what I’m living. I have no goals, no passion. Any sort of passion I had has been quashed as time went by. It’s not that I don’t have ambitions. It’s just that I feel too lazy to work for those ambitions. What happens when you can’t find your raison d’être? Does that mean you’re already dead inside?
You’ve broken up with her. Or rather, she broke up with you. I don’t know how to console you. I thought that being the shoulder you cried on would make me weak again. So I avoided your sister’s wedding so that I won’t meet you. I know that you were upset with me, but I’ve always been selfish.
A few months have gone by. I guess you’re quite reckless now. I’m a coward, so I never tried to take the empty space that she left behind. No, I couldn’t bear to be HER replacement. But I guess that was stupid of me. I should’ve tried. I heard from T that you’re now hooking up with your first crush. Even though SHE is still in your mind, your first crush, A, will soon take her place. T was right, I could never be as crazy about you as A. She’s been in love with you for so long and she has the courage to face you in a straightforward way. While I cowered from the fear, she shoved away the fears and ran after you recklessly. I guess you two would make a nice match.
I can only feel regret…feel angry at myself for not running to you while I had the chance. I realize that you won’t be mine, ever. Still, I want to tell you someday that I was too afraid to get rejected again. And I was afraid that this time, I won’t get over the heartache. I was afraid that if things went wrong this time, I would lose you as a friend as well. I don’t want that. Like I said, I’m selfish and I’m a coward. So, I can’t let you go from my life, even if it means that I’ll be just a friend.
I thought I’d be okay with this, with you being with someone else. But I’m not. I thought I won’t be hurt if I don’t invest emotions again. I guess I was wrong. I’d stopped crying recently. In the past year, I probably hadn’t cried except for the time when one my colleagues had died. And yet, here I am- crying again because I can’t have you. I guess that’s good in a way. I’d probably get over the emotions if we really started dating. Excuses come by pretty easily. I don’t have any other choice other than giving excuses. Regrets can only be made lighter with excuses.
I called your phone today but heard the “busy” tone. I didn’t call a second time. Or should I say, I painfully refrained from calling you a second time…
I love you. I wish I could say this to you a million times. I also know that my feelings are merely limerence and they’ll probably evaporate when(if!) I have a fulfilling, mature relationship with someone. I know that my feelings have always been one-sided and that you’ve kept your distance from me – maintaining the perfect balance between a friend and crush. You can never let go of her, after all, yours is (was?) a concrete relationship where you’ve faced ups and downs together. She knows your all, while I merely know the shadows. She’s been with you long enough to see your good and bad sides. I’ve known you a few months less than she has, but you’re still a mystery to me. Maybe that’s why I can’t let go. It’s been 6 years and I still can’t let go. Sometimes I wish I could just cry and beg you to be mine. I know you’re weak to tears. And yet there’s a part of me that fears your pity more than your permanent rejection.
When you got to know about my feelings, you said we should just stay friends. I said “ok” and yet I couldn’t let go. I cried a lot that night, bawled on the bed, struggling to muffle the whimpers. And yet we remained “friends”. Because I couldn’t bear not seeing your smile, not listening to your voice, not smelling the tobacco when I’m around you. And I guess I remained a “friend” you could trust- one that would shamelessly follow you around. It’s not like you ever took advantage of it. In fact, I think you hurt me sometimes just to show that you and I are never going to be anything more than friends. And yet I couldn’t let go. You’re the first person I think of when I feel stiffed with the realities of life. Honestly, I feel happy if I see your face or hear your voice even for a few minutes. I like watching you when eat or when you’re making weird faces. I like your happy smile when you’re smoking. I like it when you talk about your future dreams. I liked how happy you were after you’d bought the bike. It was funny how you were pouting because you couldn’t buy a better one. I like how you talk about philosophy sometimes or about bitter truths of life. I like when you act drunk. Your silence pains me though, because I know that your silences are for her. I hate how you held her hands in front of me. It’s funny though- I guess you rarely brought her in front of me after you got to know that I love you. I both love and hate this side of you. You should’ve been harsher to me. The small tokens of kindness you gave to me as a friend made waves in my mind. And so, I couldn’t let go.
But today I’ve decided that I’ll finally let go. I’ll let go of these toxic emotions and these reckless impulses. I’ll let go of the flutterings and jealousy and insecurities about you. I’ll forget the “I” that I love more than a friend and only remember my friend “I”. All I can say now is “thank you”. I bid thee adieu.
From the moment human beings start using their intellect, they have to go through the excruciating process of making choices. It’s quite strange: intellect is supposed to give you the rationale for making the right decisions, but at one point you realize that intelligence actually makes decision-making more difficult. If you go with your gut-feeling, you usually end up choosing something pretty easily. Intelligence just makes you weigh every option for multiple times. And that’s not even the end! Because of having reason and intellect, you mull over the choices you had made in the past and you are never happy! Should I have chosen the red shirt rather than the green one? Was it right to move away from my old home? Was it the right decision to eat that extra slice of pizza? 😜😜 Life is a never ending barrage of choices that you could or already have screwed up. Only the degree of the screw-up differs!
I’ve heard the expression “history repeats itself” for a million times. I know that some things might get repeated in life but that doesn’t mean I can accept it gratefully. Being stuck in a never ending limbo of depression, lethargy and passiveness is suffocating me. I’m really stuck in a limbo- one that won’t allow me to do anything productive As I lay around in bed for hours, doing nothing remotely useful, I contemplate over the most depressing issues. I can never figure out the reason for this never ending disease, this shadow-like clingy ailment that is DEPRESSION. It’s not like I’m leading an unhappy life. It’s just that I don’t find the joy in living anymore. I wonder if everyone facing depression goes through the same thing? I feel insane at times. It’s like I’m stuck inside the script of Waiting for Godot…always waiting for some nonexistent thing to come and drop buckets of motivation on me. Waiting without a sense of time or place, completely oblivious to the rest of the world. How long can I live like this? Maybe I can’t…