Change

(This write-up is something I wrote 3 months back but dropped the idea of posting it, just posting it now!)

With the thoughts like swirling winds, here I’m with another write-up. I’m very well aware of the fact that I’m writing after a very long time.

Last few months have been exhausting, very exhausting actually, mentally, physically as well as emotionally. The series of events happened in the last few months have left me flabbergasted, shaking the very core of my existence, my beliefs and my identity.

Everything has changed, from the people to the equations I used to share with them. People say I too have changed but then change is the only constant and inevitable thing in the world. Honestly speaking, I’m perplexed, perplexed out of my own wits for I don’t know if my deluded heart is ready for the change. Accepting the truth is one thing, not that I haven’t accepted the truth but a part of me still wants to seek refuge in the familiar, though I’m unsure about the extent of the familiarity of the familiar. What an absurd thought, isn’t it? Or maybe I’ve reached a point where I know I can’t get rid of the skeleton lying in my closet, no matter how hard I try to, I think I should rather teach it to dance...

Why it become so difficult to push away those random feelings sometimes, this question has been haunting me. Few months back, I made a choice, I chose accepting the truth rather than living in denial. But now I feel like I’ve made a mistake. I should have suppressed my feelings and continued to live in denial. If nothing else, my life would have been somewhat simpler. Sometimes I feel happy, sometimes numb, sometimes depressed, sometimes just flabbergasted but more importantly I feel choked. It’s like you are trying to escape, you run, you run harder but at the end you reach the same point from where you have started. In some situations escapism just doesn’t work. At times I feel guilty, for I know my life is better than many out there and I shouldn’t be feeling this way. Not that I don’t value what I have, I feel blessed in many ways but these incidents are sucking the life out of me. I write because writing makes me feel better; penning down my deepest thoughts is more like getting rid of those dark feelings but this time even this method of escapism is not working. 

I feel trapped as if a lot of cobwebs have settled around me and I feel like there is no way of brushing them away. I just want to run away from all this, to an unknown place where I can act like the way I’m. All what I’m doing these days is pretending to be happy, faking a smile and trying to make people around me happy, which is just another way of escapism for me but now I’m tired of doing all this. It’s like walking on a dark path, not knowing where it would take me. I stand there, in the middle of nowhere, trying to figure out my way but life doesn’t really make any sense to me. Waking up every morning is like getting up and entering into another nightmare. Earlier I used to think that eventually the things will get better but with the passing time I’ve realised it’s not the things that get better, the pain eventually becomes an inseparable part of our identity. I think I should give it some time, I’ve heard time heals all the wounds but what about the scars which are left behind, do those scars disappear too? I guess I’m in search of solace...