less of a human

All of this centers around a person, significant (obviously) in your life, that makes you feel less than everyone else that they know. 

I came across one such person when I was 21 years of age. Never in my life till then had I felt so pathetic, so insignificant, thought so less of myself. Never till then had I ever lost track of my life and was alive just because of the hearts that beat in someone else’s chest. Yes, I was crushed countless times and still couldn’t let go of the blade that cut, because a part of me knew I would find the handle soon.

Suffering from crippling depression, anxiety and terribly homesick, it was natural of me to let my emotions take precedence over all of my logic. I admit I did miss the person I was in high school: ambitious and filled with zest, as ironic as it is or may sound, getting into college killed my “vibe”

Nothing that happened since day 1 has done anything to better me as a person or as a student. All that happened has ended up with me descending further into the fury inferno that bears no exit. I got lost for what felt like forever.

It was one of the summers that I met someone who made me feel like I was the best thing in the world and nothing could ever come close. Absolutely nothing. I may not be, but I felt like the prettiest girl alive. Like my heavy body sprouted out wings and swept my feet off the ground. It was so levitating.

Alas! I had forgotten that every flight had a descent, every up; a down or perhaps, like Icarus, I flew a tad bit too close to the sun. My wings slowly fell off, feather by feather till I was left with barely enough to keep me in the air and the way down was a swift plunge into the ground to the abyss of inferno. The crash hurt as much as it might have if I was dipped in Styx but when I came out, I was not invincible. Rather vulnerable and weaker than ever. Days after that weren’t the same. 

Depression took worst of its turn, anxiety severe enough to get me bed ridden and homesickness, cannot even begin to describe how that felt. 

I never knew until then that something that could make me feel this good could break me down so badly, and what is worse is the fact that the person who made me feel that way didn’t care of it at all.  Not even to a millionth of an atom. The absolute worst part was when I found myself waiting to talk, to be with someone who left me for dead. I guess that was the day I had finally lost hold of the person I was, totally.

Nothing I did or morphed myself into was ever right. I was never okay in the way I was, ate, walked, dressed or behaved. There was never an okay on the way I posed my thoughts or the way I drew my words. Every little thing that linked to me in any way was a big “NO NO”, I was nothing but a face with a big red cross over it. I never stopped trying.

I feel to my knees, lost control of my sanity and my body was an offering that was blessed with bruises and lumps. Fell head-down to the pair of feet I never thought I would, begged for things I never knew I would and put myself out there just to be shot down a thousand times harder each time.

Why did I have to go through so much pain and hurt when I had done nothing wrong? Why was my every move black-listed and never appreciated? Why wasn’t I treated the way others were, or greeted with the same smile others received? Why was I not enough when I was claimed important, a sure to-be? 

Perhaps I was never seen as a person. Perhaps I was always less of a human.



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