I’ve felt a lot of things, numb has to be the worst of them all.

I’ve felt a lot of things, numb has to be the worst of them all.

I had a dream the other night, I was assisting death – not in the way that it sounds though. I was experiencing the impending death of another through myself – but also, it was my own death. I woke up to what felt like a continuation of the nightmare, my eyes stayed shut, all bodily movement had left me. I could not scream, even though it felt like my soul was leaving through my mouth, it too remained shut. I don’t know how long I remained that way, physically paralysed by my worst, most currently awaited fear.

It may sound odd, it does to me too, but I feel like I’m anticipating the reality of this death. I do not take pleasure in pain, but I sure do like the world to revolve around me sometimes and right now, this sense of numbness and dread that weighs down upon me has become too much, I don’t think I can handle much more – I guess if my fear manifests itself soon enough, I may be relieved somewhat because then I can grieve and I can feel, now I’m numb, tired and in over my head – this is far worse, I think, I wouldn’t know.

What makes me feel far less selfish, is sitting in that hospital room, listening to pleas for God to take her back. Maybe my acceptance of her impending death is only to let her go and finally be free. Do not get me wrong, I don’t want her gone, I really don’t – I love her with everything in me but to see her suffer breaks me. I can’t bear to close my eyes because all I see is the reality of the bleak future that might be.

I guess I am weak because I don’t know how to carry on anymore, it is just too much.

Sometimes we have to say goodbye.

Have you ever found yourself at a point in your life where you truly believed that death was the best option whether it was for you or for someone else? 

I’ve been suicidal before, but I don’t think I ever truly thought that death was the best option even during those trying times but now I’m reconsidering it.

Two years ago, my mum’s mum suffered a severe stroke – it came as a shock to most of our family, the matriarch of our family was no more, well not in the sense that we viewed her as. 

Today, she’s suffering, no longer the woman that she was, but a mere shadow of her former self. I think I said goodbye to her on that very day she suffered her stroke, but now seeing her everyday, praying to God in repetitive slurs for comfort – I hope she receives it. It’s more than difficult for me to hear these childlike pleas for God to ease her pain – both physical and mental, sometimes I feel like we’re holding her captive, my mum’s family needs her, she’s our cornerstone – but sometimes I wonder if our need for her presence in our lives is only prolonging her suffering.

Scared + Stuck

This post was first written in ink. 

So maybe it’s time to write, it really does feel like ages since the last time I picked up a pen and saw the contents of my head come to life, in a neat checkerboard of black and white. 

It feels amazing, I know I haven’t said a word, well strictly speaking, written a word about the troubles that walk within my mind. But there’s a sense of satisfaction to the clean cut nature of writing, an almost opposing image to the chaos in my head.

I thought this, university, was a new beginning. But I’m still the same as I was a few months ago – ridden with insecurities about not being normal enough, sociable enough, there enough – really it’s just a fear and perhaps a knowledge that I’m not enough. Physically I’d say I’m okay, but that’s where it stops, I’ve never quite mastered the art of acting perfectly confident, jovial and all round normal despite hours of quietly observing friends around me. Fake it till you make it, they all said – I’m just not quite sure when it is that I’ll make it. 

My expectations for now, this period of my life, that I’ve always viewed as the impending yet unattainable future we’re so grand – they didn’t involve old habits, there was no not initiating plans, no pining after things that don’t want to be caught. They involved rather, adventure – well really anything that isn’t this routine mundanity I’ve allowed myself to settle into. 

I used to view myself as somewhat of a leader, but for the life of me I want someone else to grab the reigns – to create my own adventure for me – so that all I have to do is experience in accordance with my expectations. 

However, I think I’m not warranted to feel this way, given my lack of drive to resolve my current state of emotional dystopia. I’m scared though, I’m not sure of what, but I’m so scared it’s paralysing – I really don’t know what to do. I’m scared and stuck.