Fear of the unknown is the greatest fear. But i chose to be different, not agreeably enough though. I fear. Yes. But of things people laugh at.
This fear in me usually takes a form of mild depression, ultimately resulting in multitudes of tears. Initially people sympathised, few empathised, but naturally no one understood the cause of this kind of, other-worldly outbursts that i had. In many instances, i called up people i thought could probably make me feel better, or least, would understand what i am going through. I spoke to people ranging from my parents, my brother, cousins, my closest friends from school, until this time i never took it seriously, and so din't they. Further more, it had kind of become a joke amongst people who knew me. I needed to talk to some one who was just completely from the other side of the world, i mean just like the anonymous traveller, who would pause from his journey and listen to me. Listen to me and do what, that i never pondered.
I think it was two years, two years of my life i ignored myself. These calls from my inner self. I know i am not one of those serious kinds. God forbid if i ever have to be one.
I randomly started sulking, for no apparant reasons. It would be the occasions that made me sulk, i soon realised. For instance, i sulked before any celebration, be it my birthday, a friend's birthday, anything. Nights made me gloomy. I began sulking at random nights. I ve had Diwali nights where i spent the biggest festival of my house, crying throughout, alone under the covers all night. Makes sense? No. Not even to me. Not even to those who spoke to me about it, trying to figure out my problem, a genuine attempt. The thing is, even after all this consoling business, who would like to stay with a cry-baby. The general psyche tells you to not be with such people. So do i. I never wanted to be such a person, like crying to the extent of supressed depressions. Trying being this for once.
Its a mess.
This fear in me usually takes a form of mild depression, ultimately resulting in multitudes of tears. Initially people sympathised, few empathised, but naturally no one understood the cause of this kind of, other-worldly outbursts that i had. In many instances, i called up people i thought could probably make me feel better, or least, would understand what i am going through. I spoke to people ranging from my parents, my brother, cousins, my closest friends from school, until this time i never took it seriously, and so din't they. Further more, it had kind of become a joke amongst people who knew me. I needed to talk to some one who was just completely from the other side of the world, i mean just like the anonymous traveller, who would pause from his journey and listen to me. Listen to me and do what, that i never pondered.
I think it was two years, two years of my life i ignored myself. These calls from my inner self. I know i am not one of those serious kinds. God forbid if i ever have to be one.
I randomly started sulking, for no apparant reasons. It would be the occasions that made me sulk, i soon realised. For instance, i sulked before any celebration, be it my birthday, a friend's birthday, anything. Nights made me gloomy. I began sulking at random nights. I ve had Diwali nights where i spent the biggest festival of my house, crying throughout, alone under the covers all night. Makes sense? No. Not even to me. Not even to those who spoke to me about it, trying to figure out my problem, a genuine attempt. The thing is, even after all this consoling business, who would like to stay with a cry-baby. The general psyche tells you to not be with such people. So do i. I never wanted to be such a person, like crying to the extent of supressed depressions. Trying being this for once.
Its a mess.
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