Writing in retrospective mode isn’t an easy task. You have to rack up your brain to time-travel to the period you want to pen down about and muster up all your courage to remember and experience the emotionally not-so-great times all over again. At the same time you need to be cautious not to alter/mix your present views about the subject as that will leave behind a forged reality than the actuality.
Let us just say mid 2014-mid 2015 were not the best of days for me. Fresh into my second year of my MBA programme, I had landed a decent job-offer with an IT Consultancy and had made few promising friends for life. I stayed at home during my entire course and nothing could come close to the happiness that dosing off on your mother’s lap while watching television provided.
But somewhere between all the lectures and parties; friends and family; heartaches and heartbreaks; campus and home, I could feel that something was definitely off.
Towards the end of the year I did not want to attend lectures and started bunking those finding new excuses daily. On those occasional days when I used to be in campus, merely being around people used to be a task. I wanted to run away from everything and everyone, back within the walls of my room and plop myself on my bed. I swear the mood-swings were getting unbearable because I used to tear up for anything and everything, alone and in public as well.
I kept telling myself that I was probably going through the five stages of grieving the end of a relationship, albeit in a haphazard transitioning between the stages and that it will soon be better. And at one point, I was wondering whether it was the anxiety of having to start a professional life away from home (~ 6 hours away to be precise) after having stayed at home for 3 years. Or the apprehensions of having to make new friends and find meaning to life outside campus. Or whether I was doing what I really wanted to do with my life at all.
There used to be days when I used to wake up with this sinking feeling in my stomach, feeling dreadful, frightened and totally directionless about my life. It was as if something had taken over my mind and I had no control over my thoughts nor the strength to fight the miserable ones. I used to start my day weeping and cry myself to self to sleep due to all the above mentioned adverse feelings. There used to be no motivation whatsoever to wake up and feel good or excited about anything. I had my family and friends with me; I was at home but there was this distinct feeling of emptiness that I used to feel which would lead back to the sinking feeling and the emotional cycle would continue. I was literally going through my personal hell and I really couldn’t get myself to explain it to anyone.
You would feel that having family around helps during these times and I could not agree more. I knew they were available (round the clock) for me to reach out to and always had my back, no matter what. But my mind was torn between those thousand and one unrelated thoughts. Or probably deep down I never wanted to them know that I could be anything but strong and resilient. That I could be weak and vulnerable. Maybe I just did not have the guts to speak to my parents about it. Moreover it was all so muddled up in my head that I was sure that there was no way I could explain the situation to them at all.
But mothers are mothers after all and mine is the best one I could have asked for (as is the case with you too :)). So one fine Saturday morning when my mother is reading the newspaper and I am comfortably plopped up next to her reading the supplements, she casually asks in Odia, “Is everything alright? I can hear crying sounds at night from your room almost daily now. Is there something that you want to speak about?”
Oops! Busted.
A window to try and explain my feelings to my family had opened up by itself. And to this date, I regret not having taken that opportunity to express. As anxious as I was at that moment, I realized that my behavior was unusual enough to be noticed by someone else than self. I shrugged it off casually saying that she probably heard few street dogs and that she was not sleeping well enough.
About a week or two later, my dad came in to my room and gave me a newspaper clipping to read. Yeah, my dad meticulously saves the neatly cut out articles and passes it to family (most of the times I am the recipient) to read. The article in my hand was Deepika Padukone’s article about her battle with depression. When I looked up to thank my Dad he was already smiling back at me genially. So he too had noticed. At that moment I understood that he has got my back, always.
Surprisingly the very next day one of my closest friend sent the whole interview video to me on Whatsapp. And another one sent some clippings of the same. I could relate to most of the symptoms and I was wondering why it never struck me before. That I could be Clinically Depressed. Or was I? Maybe not. Nonetheless, I had to get out of this caustic rut.
Now that I understood what soup I was in and the knowledge that I had my favorite people supporting me I knew I had to make some changes. To get back to normalcy and then to be ready to take on the world! Just kidding. I would have settled for lifetime of boredom at that point!
But I had to take baby steps first.
- Getting back in shape. For this I needed to exercise more. No wait, I had to exercise in some form or other to ward off my two years’ worth laziness. Thank god our body remembers past flexibility. I found solace in yoga and the warm (read:mostly hot) morning sunshine felt good. Plus, when I requested my mom to serve me healthy meals and snacks and cut off any unhealthy indulgences I might have, she was more than happy to oblige!
- Getting back to reading. I needed to get myself some new quality reads. Literature is something that not only keeps your mind off unhealthy thoughts but is always enriching. I eliminated the fiction, self-help, drama and romance genres. I chose the classics. They always help.
- Getting out of the home-campus-home claustrophobia. To be honest, it was doing no good to me and my morale. I was just 24 and ought to be out there having fun and meeting new people. The best solution was to plan a trip with my friends. This would probably give me a chance to reconnect with them better. I will never regret the trip the five of us took to arrive back right in time for our Graduation. The Featured Image for this post is one I took en-route Gangtok.
My Graduation day marked my last day as a student in my campus and I had to join my work the immediate next day. I had to bid adieu to few of my favorite people because we all were setting out in different paths unsure of what life had in store for us. Fortunately I met new and interesting people at my new workplace and made some friends as well.
Life had taken a drastic 180 degree turn in a matter of 2 months and I found myself in a new environment among new faces. I got busy every passing day and thankfully found lesser time to ponder over useless thoughts. The minute I decided to let go of that toxic relationship for good I instantly felt lighter. Finally a break-up that feels glorious! I missed home terribly and the fact that it was only 6 hours away did not do any good. But I had to fight the urge to run home every weekend and to run away from my gloomy thoughts as well. I understood that it would not happen overnight and would take its own sweet time but I should never again let it get the better of me. Fortunately, things did look better and days -brighter post few months.
Looking back, I had to agree that a change of environment was probably the best thing to have happened to me then. I came to terms with my own capability and strength; both of which had taken a backseat all this while. I also realized that it is important to have reasonable expectations from people and life; both tend to let us down more than often. The next time I reached home I found my mom and dad waiting for me near the door and my baby sister and my cousin near my room. At that moment I was surrounded by my favorite people in the world who were happy to see me and loved me unconditionally. It was true; I had been to hell and back in those few months but coming back home to these people made it all worth the staggered resilience.
The Unbuzzed Musings 