Have not written in a long while, I know. I started my college life, last August and with that, a new chapter in my life began. An adventurous journey of highs and lows, new beginnings, budding hopes, and the thrill, of starting something new. The journey so far, however, has not been very smooth and rosy. There has been immense pressure, fear, crying and sleepless nights, after exhausting days. Roller-coaster rides could not have been more tantalising, excruciating and intriguing.
I started college, excited at the thought of entering a new phase, with an environment different from the suffocating one at school, while also apprehensive of, what if it turned out to be just as draining and saddening, as school. College life is definitely poles apart from school life, both in a positive and negative sense. I got to meet and enjoy the company of many nice mates, and have been a lot more social and talkative lately, than I was, back at school. On the downside, college is vexing and way more demanding, and had me physically and mentally exhausted, initially.
The first semester was especially hard, because it was altogether a different zone. Nevertheless, I began attending classes, high spirited and determined, to learn and do better, than before. After a couple of weeks, however, I started losing interest. I would often find myself dozing in class, with no clue about, or, enthusiasm in what was being taught. Weeks rolled by and it became increasingly difficult for me to stay focused or concentrate, and I was back to procrastinating (like I did in the final year at school).
From the day of registration and till much later, I would come home and cry my eyes out, feeling ‘trapped,’ in a pandemonium. Right from day one, I was brimming with thoughts of fleeing, burning with the urge to get out of that toxic place. My suicidal fancies returned during the very first week of college and kept blowing my mind up, like a violent storm, very frequently after that. I had not had suicidal thoughts in a long time, and had been feeling much better, ever since I was out of school.
As the semester came to a close, and examination time appeared, my anxiety was back at its peak again, and so was the crying and the desire to escape. A part of me knew I had to brace the examinations and college life, while the rest of me wanted to turn my back on it and run. I was terrified, trembling with fear, knowing that there was no way out, that I could not keep running all my life. I had to go through, to get through it. That is where, the trouble began. The more I tried to have a grip on things, the more the sands of life started slipping, out of my hands.
I was not quite ‘prepared’ for this low phase again; it was not something I was expecting, and upliftment in my mood before joining college made me feel I had finally made it – I had conquered my inner demons. But it all gradually returned and I was devastated. There was a voice inside me screaming, “NOT AGAIN.” I did not want to feel that way ever again, I did not want to go through it all and suffer like before. It took me a lot of strength, patience and courage, to fight it and I thought I was strong enough to do it, again. But when things started getting ugly and gruesome again, I broke down like before. I cried, felt hurt and suffered, just the same.
It can be quite terrifying, experiencing a hellish nightmare, more than once. Falling down the ladder you gave every bit of your energy, to climb. A piece of me sincerely hopes, though, that I will get over it someday. I partly believe people, when they tell me it is going to be alright. But at the same time, I am also plagued by the thought that it will always keep coming back, because that is pretty much what has been happening, so far. One fights and tries to move, two steps ahead, to have the monster knock one down, again. I am tired of battling the same demons, over and over again.
I think the worst part about the whole strife is, ‘RELAPSE’. Imagine putting in all of one’s efforts, giving all of oneself to it, and after a very long time (perhaps, years), there are signs of improvement, encouraging one to push harder. But, it just takes a week or two, for it to worsen. Suddenly, one wakes up one day to realise, one is back to square one – and all of one’s time and energy seem to have gone in vain. The progress is lost and so is motivation. It is not a very good feeling; it is suffocating, gut wrenching and heart-breaking.
Now, consider this: one had made it out of that black-hole once, which should be a reason good enough for one to believe in oneself and that, one can do it again, even if it seems tougher next time. With every journey downhill, one is equipped with more knowledge and experience, to add to one’s weapons. Every time, one may feel that one might not make it this time around, a reminder needs to go out that one had traversed the path before and that one knows the way out of it. With every obstacle or downfall, one’s confidence grows and the hope for a better tomorrow strengthens, urging one, to keep going.
Towards the end of the first semester, I had become almost emotionless. From feeling pained and woeful for months, to feeling nothing at all. I kind of liked it that way and started willingly suppressing my emotions. I am in my second semester and doing better, now. Things have started looking up, again. My mood is merrier, days sunnier and I have started paying attention in class. Not sure if this is the calm before the storm, but I am hopeful that this time, I might just make it. As clichés go, am keeping my fingers crossed.
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