Addressing my mind- One Anxiety at a Time.

Only after you’ve sat and mingled in a sea of complete strangers and tried to feel a little at place, only then will you realise that at times the most sinking, wounding and difficult question to answer is, ‘Hey, how are you?’

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Now I realise why I was thrust with the weight of blurry vision since childhood. Whoever runs the universe knew I was going to face things that’ll require me to cry. Cry frequently. Cry secretly. That’s why I was given glasses. To sob and unburden behind a thick veil of sheet. To snugly hide the swollen eyes and sit among people like nothing happened.

How I wish it also gave me fortitude to ferry past all the sorrow it so conveniently bestowed.

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Also, I have lately been brooding over the enormous burden of getting to know someone utterly new. Which thread, in a giant, tumbled heap of threads do you pick up, when they say they wish to unravel your depth. I sit tangled in a labyrinth of stories. Where do I begin?

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But with you, I wish to first gently tap on the sheet of your freezing heart. Then maybe place my palms softly, to let some warmth seep through. Then wait, for years even, to let my warmth melt your cold. Even if my hands bruise blue. To slowly allow you to be soft again. To be warm again. To love again.

Adulthood: Please Stay Far Away

Okay, I turned 18 like 6 months back, but today as I was going through one of my sudden bursts of cogitation, I realized that I hadn’t written anything about how freaked out I was when the clock struck 12:00 on the night of 10th of April. Even when I was 12 or 13, 14, 15 I freaked out every single year thinking I’m one step closer to ‘being responsible.’ I understand that no one likes to age, but my fear doesn’t lie in the fact that I’ll have wrinkles on my skin but that I’m not ready for THIS.

I DON’T WANT TO GROW UP. PERIOD. I get so terrified even on the slightest thought of taking care of a family. I can’t even take care of myself let alone a family. Ugh!
God. I want to be a kid. Forever. I want to be reckless. I want to go to school, come back, go to play, finish my homework and go to sleep. It’s funny how when I was young I couldn’t wait to grow up. It’s even funnier how now I would give anything to be 10 again.

 I KNOW, RIGHT?

I remember the night of my 18th birthday; my elder brother succeeded in making things worse and heightening my paranoia, “You’re 18 now, you’re an adult-YOU’RE NO MORE A KID. Muaahahahahahah”

Whenever I catch myself thinking about what I’d do and where I will be in 5-10 years, I take that picture off my head and throw it as far away as possible, but it still remains in the far corner of my mind like a ghost hovering above me, ready to swallow me down. I don’t mean to be rude. But unfortunately, I’m not counted in the “OMG, I can’t want to get married” kind of girls. Of course everyone has their own sweet choices. But as for me, nothing scares me more than my future (and a cockroach).

I think a lot. I think so much and then get so worried. It’s like this hysteria of freaking out. Whether or not I’ll get a good job, or if I’ll be able to achieve all that I aspire. I’m scared if I wont be the same person I am today. Maybe age will change me. Make me an ADULT. I won’t be able to scream out of happiness. Or maybe laugh my heart out for silly things-like the present day. What if I don’t get excited when I get a new toothbrush. (Yes, I love my toothbrush-deal with it).

I know it’s not that bad. Growing up has it’s own perks. But I don’t want to travel alone, or eat alone or go home from work .. Alone. What if I don’t get the same kind of amazing friends I have now. We’re in college and we’ve already traded our separate ways. Not that we haven’t been in touch. But ambitions have taken over the better part of us.

I want time to slow down. It’s October and in 2 months we’ll have a new year, 2015. I mean ’14 JUST started right? Does it happen with everyone? I wonder if time pranks us and moves at a faster pace after a certain age. I want someone to not tell me but assure me that it will be all right. I’ll make it through. Everybody does. *Sigh*

Anyway, I hope what I think of adulthood isn’t the reality. I can only hope.

Okay. It’s happening again. I’m freaking out.