angelicidiotsworld

[angelicidiotsworld]

My Musings

do you ever wonder what you think matters? we think what we think but do you contemplate...do my thoughts really matter? do they bring value?

[angelicidiotsworld]

Void

I have always wondered about the hollow feeling I get now and then. On a random Tuesday, a lucky night, an afterthought after I enjoy myself. The sense of having a void in my chest. When the whole world seems to stop, it becomes hard to breathe. How long have I been experiencing this? It's quite hard to tell, but I know it has been long enough. It starts slowly and gradually shows its depth; it's like a pit of void, getting inserted in the center of my chest and slowly eating me away. Waiting for me to give up so it can conquer the flesh of my body, the soul deep in me. 

I quickly try to hide it, avert my gaze, sound normal, look normal. But it stays on the surface, waiting for me to scratch it and unleash the demise settling on me. But it never does; it just stays on the surface. Sometimes, it seems like an empty warning, something eerie made up in my imagination. But sometimes, it feels so real; nothing else exists in that moment. That void seeks something urgently. I wonder what it is that it seeks. Satisfaction, company, isolation, change. It intrigues me, but my curious nature can not deny it harms me too. Even when it stops and I can not hear it, it is there, its presence heavily noted. In each step I take, at every corner of my shadow, every time my gaze falls to the mirror. It is there. 

Is it loneliness, the craving to have someone? or a fantasy made in me to satisfy whenever things go wrong? Do I need help to get over it, or is it nothing? All these questions plague my thoughts, and at that moment, it returns. It never stops. It is an unending cycle.

But it is not a new feeling at all. It is something I have experienced since I remember this world. Always there that unsettling feeling when something goes wrong, when everything is fine. It stays. But as you grow older, you get better at masking it. Talking about it to people seems so…burdensome. 

Especially when you are like me, always cheerful and bubbly, people tend to disregard you, feeling miserable. How can you feel so out of place when you shine bright in the room? Some people care, they ask, you tell, but it seems so….pathetic. Describing it, basically screaming through your words, “No, I am not as happy as I look. I am not that much of a sunshine. Honestly, I feel like I am standing naked in a thunderstorm, waiting for the lightning to strike me and end my misery once and for all.” But it never comes out like that; all that comes out is a dismissive laugh,  a reassuring “I am fine,” and sooner or later, people give up. Why shouldn’t they? You beg for them to drop it, yet you seek help. The problem with this whole concept is that everyone wants to urge you to be better instantly when all you want to do is let that feeling sink in. Let it drown all of you, to sit in it and feel. To feel it all, to breathe. Breathe in and breathe out; it becomes so hard to do that. At that moment, you do not want to get out of the pit; you just wish to breathe. All that person seeks in that moment is to live. But, the panic rush of getting up and outside the void makes you forget to breathe, and you fall deeper and deeper. It never ends. I wonder if it ever stops: one day if it randomly goes away, the parasite will not find you suitable anymore. But will its effects persist all your life? 

I am well aware I am not the only one miserable; I am well aware someone out there will find this written for them. Sometimes, you do not want to hear the tips to get better; all you need to know is that someone feels the same; they are coping, and so am I. You get so comfortable in the sadness you expect it, always. And when someone is willing to share that sadness with you, it feels like you will finally get better. But that turns out to be an illusion, too. So many people could be willing to help you, yet you will not feel better. You feel guilty for letting them down and disappointed in yourself. But, Oh God, what must you do? You are barely surviving yourself. You are barely surviving yourself.  I’d say cut yourself some slack, but it's easier said than done. All I can tell you is, just…be. Be you. I am unsure if it will ever end, but hopefully, you will shine bright and feel that way, too. For you are the child of the cosmos, a magical soul.

-arru  

[angelicidiotsworld]

And sometimes I have kept my feelings to myself, because I could find no language to decribe them in.

Jane Austen

[angelicidiotsworld]

I felt my lungs inflate with the onruse of scenery-air, mountains, trees, people. I thought "this is what it is to be happy"

Sylvia path, The Bell Jar