Rant #2


The Open Manuscripts

The weight of disappointment is not something everyone is designed to carry. Some do it. Some can’t. I’m somewhere in the middle. I’m carrying more weight than I can. More disappointment that I can. I’m moving along. But the weight is making me slower. My fear is not slowing down. My fear is not being able to move further. When a third person looks at me, I look happy. I look like I have everything anyone would ever need. The perfect family. The perfect girlfriend. Gifts in terms of talents. Goals in the form of big dreams. And the ability to achieve them. And yet, I have that sinking feeling. I feel the weight. The burden of expectations. And I’ll given everyone back is disappointment. I’m a failure. Interestingly, in a literal and metaphorical way. Wanna know what my life is right now?

I flunked college. My family is trying to hide its face from the “chaar log”. My girlfriend is not happy with me. I’m struggling to look into the mirror. And none of this is anyone’s fault but mine. My family is supporting me but is not able to accept my state. My girlfriend is doing everything she can but I successfully push her just that little further away everyday. And me? Hahaha. Trust me. If I wasn’t this big a loser, I would’ve stabbed myself to death by now. But I don’t even have the courage to do that. I’m battling depression. Or am almost depressed. Or showing symptoms. I don’t know. But what I know is that dying on the inside every single day. My emotions are taking over me. They’re becoming my demons. That haunt me. Hurt me. Play with me. They make me laugh for no reason. They make me cry the moment I’m alone. They make me push everyone away while hoping that someone would hold me tight and tell me to not give up.
Again, not that my family and my girlfriend aren’t trying. They’re just not doing enough. Maybe what I’m not able to do for myself, I expect from them. It keeps piling on. One small incident here and there and I’m back to thinking of ways to hurt myself more. I don’t shout. I don’t rant. I don’t hurt anyone physically. I go into my shell. Where I’m protected from others. But you know what I forget? I hate myself. Who will save me from myself? Even now when I’m writing this I’m smiling. Not because it’s giving me the release I need. It’s because the demon in me is happy to see how much it’s destroyed me. It’s proud. It’s having a good time.
And it’s not like I haven’t tried to be better. I’ve done a lot to help myself. But sometimes the writing on the wall is clear. It does not want you to get out of this mess.
If you’re thinking that I’m that guy on the street who’s evidently having issues in life, you’re wrong. I’m that guy who smiles the whole day, makes everyone around him happy and cheerful. I’m that guy who never lets anyone know what he’s feeling. Because he puts his loved ones first. Loved ones? I mean family. Yes. Girlfriend is family.
Thank You
Anonymous 2

One Comment Add yours

  1. Arryika96 says:

    Reblogged this on wintermalaise and commented:
    This Blog is reaching the hearts of people.

    To rant, mail at

    or simply comment on

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s