Depression is so fucked up. Once it gets a good grip of you, it never leaves you alone. It follows you everywhere. It gets in your system. It starts eating you up from the inside, slowing sucking up the life out of you. You scream for help but it gets lost in the noise of the crowd like a shout in a void. You cannot bring yourself to speak or express yourself, you start to forget things that once made you happy, you feel unworthy and isolated, you crave human interaction but at the same time you want to be alone and slowly being alone starts to suck as well. You smile and laugh with your so called group of “friends” but deep down you know you don’t mean anything to them and the smiles and laughs reminds you more of how lonely you are and how deep is the void in your heart. It fucking hits you out of nowhere and it makes you act accordingly. A few minutes later, when you’re done doing the action, you start to realize how stupid you were to do that. You don’t easily feel happy or loved and even if you do, it vanishes in a blink. Sometimes, you wish you were hit by a truck, sometimes you want to drink the floor cleaner, sometimes you want to make a hundred cuts on your arms and bleed to death, sometimes you want to empty the bottle of the pills. Sometimes you just want to sleep away your life. You think of a thousand ways to kill yourself. You know that it’s all in your head but you cannot do anything about it. The world disgusts you but at the same time you want to be a “normal” person. You cannot see if it’ll ever get better but you try to live your life the way it is.

Love

You’re insane if you love someone more than they love you. 

You’re insane if you are looking for love at the wrong places.
You’re insane if someone loves you but you don’t appreciate it.
You’re insane if you can’t feel anyone’s love for you at all. 
You’re insane if you don’t love anyone at all. 
You’re insane if you think you can’t be loved.
You’re insane if you just love the idea of someone.
You’re insane if you can’t tell whether you really love someone or just the idea of them.
But it’s okay. Love makes us all insane.

I always speak of bad nights. How would you define a bad night? Different people define a "bad night" differently. If you're going somewhere at night and your car breaks down, it's a bad night. If you have certain plans for the night and you have to cancel it for some reason, it's a bad night. If a loved one falls sick, meets an accident or dies, it's a bad night. So a bad incident makes a night, a bad night.

For me, almost every night is a bad night. Tonight is a bad night as well. It's been a while since I had a good night. I don't even remember when did the last good night happened to me. Maybe the last good night happened 8 years ago? I don't know. I don't remember. I have been having trouble falling asleep at night and I hate that the most. I have been thinking about things. Several terrifying things one of which is losing my dad because of his sickness. I cannot tell how many days he has but I really want those days to be more than the days I've lived so far and the days that I'm going to live in the future. I don't want to see a world without him or without my mum. God, I hate growing up. Our parents grow old with us and I think that's the worst part because eventually their existence will come to an end. 

My mum thinks that I do pointless things at night when I don't sleep. She couldn't be more wrong but will she ever understand the things that have been troubling me and what's keeping me awake? Dad's sickness, unwanted responsibility, college, exams, freaking interviews that I have been failing, my own freaking personality that I hate so much. No she won't. 

I've decided that I won't chase happiness anymore because I'm not meant to be happy and loved. I wanted to be happy.. Completely happy and that hasn't happened. I have tried to laugh and smile without feeling empty but that hasn't happened. I want to be loved but that hasn't happened either. I don't think I have chased love before.. and I'm not planning to do it either. I've always loved people more than they have loved me.. so I won't be doing that anymore.

There's a knot in my stomach and a void in my heart.

A storm in my head and words stuck in my throat.

God, I hate myself. I hate my very existence. My very pointless existence. I wish I could present it in a better a way, a beautiful poetic way. I hate every bit of myself, my skin, my bones, every single drop of my blood. Every bit of me that has made me, ME. I want to stop existing because my existence seems pointless to me. I don't see myself anywhere or with anyone. I'm broken and nothing can fix me. I'm beyond repair.  And I wish I could talk about it to a person who is close to me, or who feels right but I can't because they either don't understand it or get really scared. 

If it makes you feel better..

If it makes you feel any better,

I'll keep myself from speaking of death,

and how my absence would make this place a better place.

I'll make myself smile during the long screwed up nights, 

just to keep myself sane.

I'll let my head sleep when it feels too tired to exist.

I'll let you be my happy pill that cures the sadness in me.

I'll stop painting my sleeves red.

I'll do it all, darling, if it makes you feel any better.

But just in case I failed,

I'd leave you a last note with tear and ink stains,

Just to tell you that I tried my best,

And hope you understand that this was never in my hands.

Why would you come back?

Why would you come back in her life after 
breaking her down into a thousand pieces?
Why would you want her back and tell her that you care,
if you've still kept the doors of your life shut?
Why would you do this?
She is unmendable and if you hurt her more now,
it will only burn her down to ashes;
And she will be carried away by the strong wind, 
leaving behind, no traces of her existence.
Is that what you want?
But why would you want that?
Why would you come back and hurt her again?

Oh hey, friend. Is it ok, to call you a friend? Um, let me just call you "friend" here in this post because there's something I need to tell you.

So I've been trying to be myself. I'm being myself but I've been more quiet recently and there's this weird fear and anxiety which is dwelling inside me and it's eating me up from the inside. I laugh when there's something to laugh about, I smile back when someone smiles at me. I wave "hi" and "goodbye" to my batchmates when they pass by and sometimes I even have small conversation with them. But here's the thing about small conversations. They are small and they end in a blink of an eye. 

Anyways, I know that you think that I'm "fine" and that there's nothing wrong with me but how come there are so many people who can see the sadness of my face. I'm not saying that I purposely keep a frowning face. I don't. But it's just my face that looks frowny and dull now. And let me quote something that was said to me by one of the trainers from my college. She said, "You look so dull and in pain. Is there something wrong? It feels like, like.. there's something.. some sort of burden or pain that you're carrying.. Are you alright? You are so young.. you shouldn't be this sad. Please if there's anything, please come to me and talk to me if you need someone to talk to me." 

The same thing was said to me by another co-ordinator of the TNP department of my college on the same freaking day. Woah! I must be such a good actor, no? Nothing scares me more than knowing that someone knows that I'm not okay. Sometimes, I want them to know that I'm not okay but that means I will have a hard time telling a lie and my voice will crack and I usually feel choked when people notice that I'm not okay. 

Right now I'm sick. (I wonder if it's because I haven't talked to you because usually that's what happens to me but don't worry. I will be alright. And I really hope it's not because of you) A regular/general doctor who actually delivered me almost 21 years ago.. can tell that I'm stressed and depressed and I'm standing on the edge. The way she told not to get so depressed and stressed was scary. 

I even had a few of my batchmates who asked me the same questions.. It's all so clearly visible on face and I can't even hide it anymore but you refuse to see it or believe and what have you done? You gave up on me.. After all this time, after knowing all of my secrets and past memories and feelings, this is what I get. I believe, I never should've trusted you. It's all of my fault. I can't believe I'm wasting another night writing about you.

God, I wish you knew that I wasn't being dramatic and I'm actually depressed and having a bad phase and this isn't normal. This is not a feeling or thought that can be forgotten over a night's sleep. I wake up wanting to be dead. That's how fucked up I feel but nope, it's all drama, right my dear "friend"?

"How do I tell you.."

So, it's another bad night,
But you won't understand.
The absurd thoughts of day, 
Are finally making sense.

Words are more sincere, 
When my loved ones are asleep.
I wish I could explain the way my bones ache, 
A wish to end it all is running in my veins.

How do I tell you that I can't think of anything else?
How do I tell you that I'm so tired of being overwhelmed?
How do I tell you that I'm so tired and I want to sleep?
How do I tell you that I want to sleep but I don't want to wake up?
How do I tell you that I hate having to wake up and go through this again?
How do I tell you that I hate not being able to conceal the sadness of my face?

A beautiful friend

When you're a teenager, every little crisis feels like the end of the world. You don't feel like existing anymore. Life seems so twisted and we keep making terrible decisions. It happens to everyone.

Embarrassed?

'I don't wanna live anymore.'

Fought with best friend?

'The world can stop spinning now.'

Parents don't understand?

'Why did they even brought me in this world?'

Crush has a crush on a terrible person?

'Why does it always happen to me?'

When you're a teenager, you feel like the only person who understands is your friend. I felt the same. Actually I didn't but I always had friends who cared a lot for me. Like seriously a lot. And it felt good to know that there were people who made you happy and who made you forget all your worries. I had people who'd do anything to make me feel happy again and that included cussing their crush because they hurt me and attending my birthday party even when they have a sick mum at home who had a minor operation two days ago. I was blessed to have friends like them. I know that not everyone has friends. 

Exactly five years ago, on September 18th, one of my best friends took her last breath on her death bed. She tried to kill herself, she was in hospital for around 20 days. She had major burn injuries. She was recovering but something happened and she couldn't take the pain anymore. I still remember every single detail of the day. How I got the terrible news of her suicide attempt and the day when our Chemistry teacher told us in our Morning tution that she couldn't make it. I remember wishing it was a terrible joke or rumor. I remember calling up my other friends and telling her about our dead friend. I remember trying to cry in the shower but I couldn't cry. I didn't cry until the principal started talking about her. I think I cried all day long. 

For a long time, I felt guilty for not telling her how much she meant to me. I felt guilty for not visiting her in the hospital. I felt guilty for not making it to the funeral. I was also amazed how everyone else was "normal" again. As if she never existed in our lives but I think we still did talk about her. We even saw her in our dreams sometimes and we'd talk about it the next day in school. I wonder if anyone still remembers this day. Maybe not. 

I always write about her on this day. I don't know why. I think because she was like a lucky charm for me or may be because when I found about tumor(it was a misdiagnose), she said "hey, you're going to live long. I hope God gives you all of my days". She said that a week before her suicide attempt. She had the most beautiful smile. She was strong and crazy and stupid.

I miss my beautiful friend. Her death did change me and my life. I didn't have my lucky charm and I suddenly started to lose my other friends, got more depressed, performed poorly in exams, argued with family, blamed myself for her death and what not. Like I said in the very beginning of this post, when you're a teenager, every little crisis feels like the end of the world. But this wasn't any little crisis. I lost a friend and she was never coming back. 

I try to save as many lives as I can. I know what depression is, I know what it feels like when you want to die. I want people to know that they are important and that I love them. I make sure that they know that I love them. If you read me, if you think of me, if you've ever made me smile, if you've ever helped me, I love you. Thank you for existing. Please don't kill yourself. Things will get better for you. If it didn't get better, you'll at least have enough strength to deal with it. 

You wake up every morning because you have to.

It's just one of those nights, 

where you just want to break down. 

You're so tired of the falls and failures.

You want to talk but feel too exhausted to speak.

You just want to sleep and never wake up. 

Maybe sleeping for 365 days straight would help, 

getting over this feeling? 

When was the last time you shared, 

something really personal with someone you trust? 

You stand still while your relations get covered, 

by a layer of dust.

Maybe the reason why you didn't share, 

the recent bad experience with people is because, 

you're afraid that they'd leave you as well. 

Maybe you're just sick of seeing everyone leave. 

Quite perceptible that it kills you. 

The anger burns you.

And your fears paralyse you.

Yet, you wake up every morning because you have to.

Free

I want to be free.

In the most innocent yet wildest sense,

I want to be free.

I don't want to be bound,

By complicated relationships, absurd life goals, 

Or any haunting past memories,

That does nothing but makes me more insane,

With every passing second.

I want to be free.

Like the deep oceans and the cold night wind,

I want to be free.

I want to sing, dance and feel infinity.

And as crazy as it sounds,

I want to burn my body down,

And rise again from the ground.

I want to be free.

I want to break free from this skin;

Break free from the emptiness and numbness both at once;

Break free from the pain and depression,

That controlled my life for all these years.

I want to be free.

Free like a shooting star, 

Escaping the darkness of the night.

Free like a soaring kite, 

Playing hide and seek with the clouds in the sky.

Labyrinth of suffering

The night makes her vulnerable,

And the smile refuses to fool other people.

All of her broken pieces glued together start to fall apart,

And the paralyzing pain start to stab the heart.

The secrets get ready to spill out of her eyes,

As she starts to paste a story full of sweet lies.

Some nights, she laughs too much and then starts to cry.

The fears crawl up and she questions "why?"

She'd like to live but she'd also like die for sure;

Apparently, she's not sure of what she craves more.

As this absurd thought escapes the darkest corner of her mind,

She instantly goes blind.

People who believe that she's blessed,

Certainly have no idea that she's full of self hatred.

She's struggling between the thought of wanting, 

Someone to hold her and tell her that it's alright.

And the thought of putting an end to this labyrinth of suffering,

Right here tonight.

"Every night.."

Every night the sadness, 

Overpowers the sanity in her.

She lies paralyzed in the cold bed,

As the sadness carves out a void in her chest.

She says, "Things seem better when I'm not awake."

Someone hug her tight and prove her wrong for God's sake.

After all this time of,  
Wanting to be someone, 
Who mattered, 
Or someone who made, 
A difference in people's lives, 
I've come to the realization that,
I’m not important, 
I do not matter, 
I do not make any difference, 
In anyone's life.
I am not special.

A voice is screaming in her head,

Struggling to break free, 

and get lost in the air.

It's once again, 

hard to figure out,

whether it's pain or fear.

Eyes are tired, 

of holding back the tears,

that've been trapped, 

with all the unhealthy emotions.

Overwhelmed by her own feelings,

She wishes to escape to a place,

and feel numb again.

Digging her nails,

into her own skin,

She's hoping for the physical pain, 

to overcome the emotional pain.

It's starting to get bad again,

She's falling into the darkest hole,

that's been created in her own head.

Untitled

I hope the unhealthy thoughts die, 
as soon as I type them on this paper. 
I'm really sorry, 
but I'm tempted to harm myself again tonight, 
for the things I failed to accomplish.
And I know you are going to stop me,
and tell me I'm perfect ,
but I know it's not true.
The truth is that I'm not okay. 
The truth is that I'm pretty damaged. 
The truth is that I'm easily replaceable, 
and I hate being so. 
When I raise my hand, 
they try to reach for the blades instead of pens. 
They try to paint my arms red with the razor,
when I try to pour myself out on a paper.
Being aware of all the beautiful things in the world,
I'd never choose myself over someone who is better.
But I want you to choose me.
I know that's insane,
but I really want you to choose me.

Not enough.

She is that wounded person,

who has been trying, 

to protect and fix, 

everything for everyone;

because she knows,

how it feels when everything,

falls apart.

But that's not enough.

She is being their warm, 

and safe duvet trying ,

to put everyone back to sleep; 

keeping them from, 

screaming in horror,

while the monsters of the night,

fill the room with,

chilled daunting aura.

But that's not enough.

She holds their hand when,

they decide to start all over again. 

But that's not enough. 

She has been taking, 

their cuts and scratches, 

and sucking up the poison, 

but that's not enough. 

Nothing she does is enough. 

Someone make her stop.

Life is too short to live for, 

someone who doesn't care.

She is running out strength. 

She is running out of hope.

She is running out of love. 

She is running out of air.

She can't do it anymore,

Someone do her a favor,

Give her back her smile,

and bring her back to her life.

I want to forget you.
Erase and white wash,
the darkest corner of my mind,
where you hide.

I want to stop,
writing verses that
follow the traces of
your existence.

I want the scars,
on my arms to fade soon,
so "our good times and bad times"
stop replaying itself,
over and over again.

I want to burn down,
the feelings I had for you,
when I was too foolish,
to think that you cared.

The page still remains blank

Trying to pen down the emotions,
but failing so undeniably.
Starting by capturing one thought,
and sugar coating it with ornamental words.

The page still remains blank.
The head still remains busy fighting, 
the unwanted thoughts.
Eyes get heavier and turn down,
the proposal to compose something beautiful.

Managed to scribble something like a line, 
which fall short to mean anything.
The words are scattered everywhere,
and I can't frame it together. 

The page still remains blank.
Words are sore from being used,
over and over again.
They have switched sides,
and have refused to divulge,
the premonition and apprehension.

After two hours, ten minutes, 
and twelve seconds later,
The page still remains blank.
Seems like it's time to give up the battle.

It's time to put down the pen,

and get up from the chair.

It's time to turn down the lights,

and lie on the cold matres.

It's time to close eyes and, 
let the dreams fill the void.

State of mind.

Detaching   while   seeking   attachment,

Smiling   while   hiding  the     sadness,

Suffocating while gulping down the pain,

Fidgeting while trying to move forward,

And carry on with life without any companion.

Another night with worthless thoughts.

Another lie     coated   with bitter truth.

Another insomniac with horrifying past and unpleasant present.

Another   page   of      unwritten  words,

Stating   the   state   of   mind.

Things   are   not   exactly   okay,

Even   though   they   look   like it.

Morbid fascination with self destruction,

Never     helped    the    undying,

Nauseous     feeling.

Anxiety

It's one of those nights 

where it all crumbles 

down to the ground. 

It starts from 
one corner of the mind 

and slowly makes it way 

to the heart.

It rumbles in the stomach 

and finally reaches

 to the tip of my toes. 

The anxiety mixes 

with the blood 

and runs in the veins. 

I feel cold 
in 35 degrees.
I feel filthy 
in my own skin

I can't help but think 

of all the wrongs 

I've done. 

I can't get up but 

lie like a corpse

in the pile of my own 

failures. 

I can't make it go away.
Is it okay to feel this way?
What's wrong with me?
Why is it all that I see?