TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of kidnapping / murder / abuse. talk about depression (?), disassociation
do you ever feel like you’re floating through life, like nothing is real and everything that is happening is simply a hazy dream? just fleeting moments you’re sitting through, on an endless loop in your mind like snapshots of a movie?
right now, I’m lying in my bed, in the dark. a glimmer of light is peeking from above the closed curtains and reflecting in the mirror, everything in my room shadowed in darkness. I’m lying here, wondering whether any of this is even real — even though I guess I know it is. but right now, in this moment…
…nothing really feels real
I don’t feel real
the only thing that seems like it is real, like it is true and 100% tangible and whole, is the way i love my parents. the way I love J. that’s all that’s real. the kind of love that can never dissipate, a flame that can never be extinguished no matter how hard the wind screams and howls, roaring against every mountain and tearing through thunder clouds.
that’s all that’s real.
but am I? is everything else real — is life even something that’s worth trying, when ultimately it’s just going to end and we’re all going to be buried beneath the soil, beneath the earth we came from? the world will continue to spin and the sun will rise and fall, stars will come in and out of existence but all of us? we won’t be here anymore.
so it’s like… is it real? and if it is, what’s the point of it anyway? there’s just so much suffering that is so unnecessary. the last few weeks, I have heard horrific, heartbreaking, tragic things that have happened — to people, to children — and I have read about a child being kidnapped, yet another woman being murdered and children being abused.
everything is so dark and twisted and people can be so so cruel and awful. and then some people can be so lovely. but the sad thing is, all the bad just outweighs the good, and when there’s just so much bad and darkness, what is the point of even trying? nothing will change. i mean for gods sake, poverty is on the rise and so is homelessness and illness and a rapid decline in mental health and everything just freakin sucks.
I don’t really know what this post is, I guess just a very long… ramble of my thoughts and they’re going to be rather incoherent I guess; as I only slept for like 4 hours last night and I’m past the point of exhaustion now. I just can’t sleep. I’m not sad. I’m fine, I guess — I just don’t feel real and nothing feels real and everything is just pointless.
but god, even love…
Love is scary. it is terrifying. when it is romantic love, I mean. it’s different to everything else. because with that love, it’s like… you build something with them, and build a life in your head and have these dreams rushing to the surface, plan your entire life and your future around this person. fit this person into every nook, crevice and cranny, every little corner and hole and hole to make everything whole, to make you and your life bloom. love is gorgeous. love is beautiful.
but love is terrifying.
because what happens when one day they are unhappy, or what if they don’t want to be with you anymore? what if they decide you’re no longer who or what they want? what if they decide you don’t satisfy them or what if they think you’re incompatible?
how do you get past that?
how do you… how do you even begin to recover from that? how do you not let it kill you, destroy you to the very core, how do you keep breathing how do you stay alive how do you keep going how do you keep trying how do you wake up without wanting to die
when the person you love no longer wants to be with you, how do you keep living?
because you want them to be happy so you let them walk away but how do you keep going?
I thought I experienced heartbreak once. but I know now that it was nothing. I look back at it now and though it hurt at the time, i realise now it will be nothing compared to
it’s weird how humans find that someone and they think ‘oh this is my person’, because life… can really ruin everything. and everything is just… pointless, so when it can all be destroyed in the blink of an eye, when you can lose everything with just a few words or by doing one thing differently, is there really any point to it at all? to anything.
even studying and working and making money and working and working and working for the rest of our lives just so we have money to be able to live is exhausting and draining and pointless. it is so unbelievably hard and I don’t want to go through it at all. I don’t want to do anything. I don’t… it just doesn’t seem real because it’s all so stupid, yet it is so wonderful. and yet, it is so tragic.
I’m so tired of overthinking and overanalysing and being scared and worried and stressed. I’m just so tired and I know I probably made like zero sense and if you’re still here, dear reader, thank you, I guess, for reading my late night thoughts of nonsense.
I hope that there is a point to everything, in the end, and I hope none of us have to lose the person we love. I hope none of us have to watch them walk away,
I hope / I pray / our love is stronger, but more than that I hope the compassion and the friendship and the trust and the honesty and the communication and comprehension lasts through everything and gets stronger with every moment and in the end I hope we can tell the story of us to the grandchildren and laugh and be happy and find the point to it all together and have everything feel real and wonderful and in the end, reunite in paradise
Things I’ve written recently:
Free eBook Promotion: THE ART OF FAKING IT
My Parents Are Making Me Feel Guilty For Loving Someone Outside My Religion
Let’s Talk About PCOS
Breathing Life Back Into Your Relationship: Keeping the Spark Alive
What Happens After The Bidaai: Unpacking Consent In Marriage
Behind The Sex: A Look Into Fucking For Validation
Erasing sex toy stigma in South Asian culture
Racism Among Immigrants Is Real, and It’s Our Generation’s Job to End It
Being a woman in this world shouldn’t mean fearing for our safety every day
I ended up in hospital after the first time I had sex
I was taught to believe solo sex is a sin — but it’s not shameful