Why Did I Think I Could Be A Part Of Something?

Twenty-fifth of September. The year is 2022. Times are scary. The world is a perpetual whirlwind. You never know if that person asking for directions is ready to snatch your purse. Or, that another person asking to make a phone call will steal your identity. After years of university, in my final year, I chose to be a part of a group. And, I ended up stepping on my toes. It is horrid and on the edge. Why did I think I could be part of something? Something where people gather and organize something. Walking around a sticky web. My foot getting stuck. Head lost in a knot of anxiety and fear. And, despite all of this, my dire desperation to be a part of something. To feel like I am contributing to something. To feel like I am a social animal. Led me to a vain path of unwanted troubles and unwished-for emotions. Cries I would have never shed or struggles I would have never picked instead.

 

I come back to my cot. I think about these things. And, ruminate. How do people function so well? Mesh beautifully with each other. Even if, they don't like each other. When I enter their mesh, I feel like I disrupt the entire network. And, I feel tedious and I feel the need, the need to flee. I get irritable or jittery whenever I’m in places with a lot of people. Even someone sitting alone at a table next to mine in a cafe irritates me. I don’t want to have friends anymore. I don’t need them. I feel uneasy in bed, I feel uneasy around people. "Why can’t I laugh happily like other people? Why am I sad all the time? Why am I always nervous? Why is everything so boring?" are my only constant thoughts. No matter where I live, I think I would have been the same. I’d be living the same mundane life and no one would ever be interested in me. I felt like if I lived like this for too long, I’d shrivel up and die. “Why am I feeling sad? Why am I sad?” I’ve never felt real joy, pleasure, or excitement in my life. I’m hungry but there’s nothing I want to eat. Every time I leave my cot, it feels as if I am walking out of my own grave. Hopeless and grey. I don’t know where I’m trapped but I feel trapped. There’s nothing in my life that relaxes me. I feel cramped and stifled. I’ve been so impatient lately. I just want to die already. After years and years, my life is the same, the meetings are the same, and the people are the same. I curse and get mad the same way. It’s all the same endless repetition. This comes and goes in cycles. Three days of the week are so tiring, the other three are just barely manageable, and I don’t even know how the last day goes. It feels like I’m stuck but I don’t know how to get out. That’s probably why I hope everything ends all at once. I didn’t exist before a few years ago and I won’t exist in the next many years, but I feel like I existed before that and will still exist after that. The feeling that I’ll exist forever. I’ve been frustrated by that feeling and I’ve never, in my heart, ever, felt settled. Out of the 24 hours in a day, I only feel okay for about a couple. And it’s not like I even feel good, I just feel okay. I just try to get through the rest. I wish I was genuinely happy and able to say things like ‘Yes, this is life,’ ‘This is what life is all about. I’m not unhappy but I’m not happy either. I am tired of pretending to be happy. I am tired of pretending to be unhappy. I just want to be honest. Everyone is on their way to their graves, so why is everyone so happy and excited? Does anyone live without pretending? Can, anyone? Please do not give any advice. Please do not try to comfort me. But, do you think I will be a different person once the winter comes?

 

- Oizys.