Just hear me out. Once. Please.
I might have an idea how it is. How you feel. I have felt like that, a little less and little worse. A little different, maybe. Or a lot.
Endless days. And countless nights. And weeks. Months. Whole life.
In bits and pieces and unguarded moments. It just creeps up. And gets you. Overpowering, overbearing. Ruthless.
What you feel, is yours. And yours only. It’s your war.
The scars, yours. The pain, yours. The hurt, yours. And yours only.
Own it. Accept it.
It is scary. Yes it is. But you need to do it once. That one step. One look in the mirror. One nod.
That’s the cue.
Your family, your friends, your psychiatrist, your Whatsapp group, your virtual friend, your ex.
They will envelop you in their words. Of warmth and compassion.
They will say ‘hush’ and ‘sush’.
They will embrace you.
Pat your back.
Lock eyes with you.
They care about you, yes.
They are concerned, yes.
They want you to heal.
But…they can’t do it for you.
You and only you can.
You have to.
And you must.
That pain in your throat is a cumbersome ball. It’s stuck. You can’t breathe. It’s alright. Let it be there.
Gulp it. Down. Slow. It has an affinity for the abyss. So, let it slide. Ever so slow. There is the phenomenal universe all around you. Even if you are in the washroom or the dark bedroom or the study or in a rundown inn; even if there is enough light or no light, when there is snot and tears bursting out and you are full of that pitiless nothingness, even when you are shaking, about to unravel,
remember: there universe is around you.
There is air. Life.
Breathe it in. Slow. Breathe it in slow heaves. Fill your cavities and pores and your caves with it.
And some more. Feel a little less heavy?
Don’t avoid the mirror. Look right at it.
The abyss will stare right back.
Weightless. Empty. Devoid. That’s how you will feel.
The trinity. They have low attention spans.
They leave real quick. Let them.
Now, you see yourself. You look nothing like yourself. You look like a wreck. A victim.
Of yourself. Yes, it’s so, because you wanted it so.
Own it. Don’t feel pity. or anger.
Simply own it.
And then, deny it. The strength.
The control it has over you.
The pills, the steel, the rope, the cliff, the window sill, the car keys. Let them be there. They don’t need you.
And, you don’t need them.
You are a veteran. A phoenix. A warrior. A hero. A human being.
Accept yourself. Accept this fact. And be proud.
Get a tattoo. Remember a song. Think of a day. A story. A moment.
Get a photograph framed. Keep it.
You feel weak. It’s alright. Do you realize how infinitesimal you are compared to everything else?
Compared to the sea you cross, the ocean you flew over last year,
the mountain you camped in. And, the stars you can’t
even see without staring. And, the sun and the moon that you hold
with your fingers in Facebook photographs.
Do you realize that?
Yes, you are small.
And small is beautiful.
Be small. Be beautiful. Be flawed.
Don’t succumb to their theories and ideas. Don’t admire their photographs and magazine covers.
Don’t hear what they say. They don’t know you, like you do.
Like I do.
And, I love you. All that submerged pain, that scary volcano.
The battle wounds that get scraped every night.
The scar tissue. The ugliness. The laments.
The darkness. The loss.
And those memories. Yes, them. And that. And that too.
All of it. The whole lot.
I see it and love it.
I do. Infinitely.
And one day, we will yank it out, make a time capsule of it and send it across space, to some unknown beyond.
Is that not romantic? We will do it. I swear.
You are not alone, never were. Know it.
Truth is, you know it already.
Hey you, breathe. Ride it.
Step over it. And,
It will be okay.
Be at it.
Like a god of war.
Wear that smile on your sleeve.
The smile of a warrior.
Scars are good.
Wars are good.
You are good.
With love. To everyone of you.