Wear and tear

I didn’t want to wake up. I was having a much better time asleep. And that’s really sad. It was almost like a reverse nightmare, like when you wake up from a nightmare you’re so relieved. I woke up into a nightmare.

Last week was one of the most exhausting to get through, sapping energy both internal and externally. My wish list is quite worn out, in a very much similar state as I am. I don’t think I’ve ever been this desperate demanding all my wishes to be granted. Not that any of them came through though, as much as I beg it would.
I don’t quite understand why a series of events have to happen one after another, and even, simultaneously: as if there were a main plot and a thousand other subplots in a play.

Wednesday was driving me mad, overthinking it and driving me quite mad – I was pretty certain there was a trillion thoughts running through the subconscious and I probably heard at least a hundred of ’em.

Then the call from Gemonn came, along with news about the incident that he was involved in.

Then came Friday. Despite having Lady Luck on my side, and a very patient tester, I still failed. It wasn’t supposed to end like that: I could see myself managing fine, for once. And I thought I could. I was going to, trust me. Until my carelessness got the better of me. It’s been days now since it happened, but here I am, still beating myself up for it. Truth is, there’s nobody I can blame, but myself. Was it avoidable? Yes.

Crying all the way home, and locking myself for another two hours in the room, I didn’t even bother to stifle the unmuffled whines and tears. Ouch, because my brain was burning, fuming from so much frustration within. There was noone, but myself, to be annoyed at.

In the evening I went to visit my uncle. In his unconscious state, and barely reactive, so many people wrap him in thick, thick, layers of love and care and concern. I compare myself to him – and it stings.

Someone so strong, and bright, and optimistic – in the most vulnerable state any human could possibly be in. Quite unfathomable, it was almost atrocious to see how life can be this much of a torment. I miss my uncle. And then in the shower, I could not hold back the tears, which started pouring once more: How strong am I? My uncle has always been the role model and pillar of support to his sisters. But here I am, achieving far less, and incomparable to that of his. Yet he’s pulled through the toughest, and his strength shines. My heart breaks and is crushed – I am broken, inside. Drowning. For being so incompetent and quite a disappointment. What am I, really?

Grief is perhaps an unknown territory for you. You might feel both helpless and hopeless without a sense of a ‘map’ for the journey. Confusion is the hallmark of a transition. To rebuild both your inner and outer world is a major project.

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