By Plaksha Srivastava
I sleep everyday thinking tomorrow will be better. That when I wake up, the melancholic cloud around my head will evaporate and I will be happy and there will at least be a potential for happiness.
But when I wake up, that cloud is still there, heavier than ever. But I don't have time to think about it because you have college and job and other things that you are supposed to do without knowing why you do it and there is this daily routine you have to follow because it's a race and you have to keep running even when, in reality, you can just barely limp but you have to fake it till you make it. So, you keep going, keeping your emotions aside and putting your feelings in a trash.
And then, it happens. The trigger point. Someone saying your biggest insecurity out loud, something so petty, so irrelevant, something you would laugh off on a usual day but not today. The trigger, that goddamn trigger, something as tiny as not being able to find your pen or not being able to ask for help and you breakdown and wail. Because you were running with your emotions switched off and that trigger makes you feel things again. A reminder that you are and will always be 'I care, I fucking care a lot' girlie instead of 'idgaf' girlie. A reminder that you are under constant scrutiny and whatever you say is not enough and whatever you do is not enough. Oh, that bloody trigger that reminds you that you are not immune from others' opinions but you are fucking capable of proving them wrong.
But why would you even try to prove them wrong. You don't, it's not worth it. You keep that opinion in a trash but take out all other feelings from it. The feelings that make you human because you are in fact human (yeah, sure about that?) and you are allowed to feel.
In that moment, in that trigger point, you realise that life is too short to give importance to people and things who don't matter. I mean yes, you cry too, hysterically, sometimes for hours, days (weeks?) but that's just a byproduct. That trigger makes you realise that life maybe a race and you may be running but that running can be sprinting, limping, galloping, jogging or even frog hopping. You realise that life is a race but you are allowed to customise the race and set the pace according to your own needs, perspectives and experiences. And these epiphanies lead you to sleep again, hoping tomorrow will be better.
By Plaksha Srivastava
Comments