I Was Saved.

There are times in your life when you feel, like you are going to drown. When everything seems so hard, that you start fearing your own self. You are scared that no matter how hard you try, this thing, which you are going through right now, will eat you up. And at times like this, you start hating yourself. For no apparent reason. You just hate everyone and everything, including yourself.

And it is then that you need someone. Someone who will help you. Someone who will save you. I too was saved. By a friend. A friend who is more than a sister now. It began three years ago. I was fighting. I was struggling. I knew that if I didn’t share, what I was going through, with someone, it will eat me up. It was eating me up. Slowly, but constantly. Then I told her everything. From the start till the end. But what surprised me the most was that she didn’t run away, she stayed. She was there to help me through it. She is there. She gave me advice when I needed it. She listened to me blabber on about anything and everything.

Today we are like sisters. We share everything with each other. And in her words ‘grief connected us’. And we are more than ‘best friends forever’ we are ‘sisters for life’. Even today I have days when I want to give up. When all I am going through becomes too much to handle. But now I know that there is someone who wouldn’t want me to give up. Someone who believed in me. Someone who didn’t give up on me. And giving up now will be letting her down.

 I believe, everyone deserves to be saved. Because no one deserves to be left behind, to suffer the consequences of someone else’s action. When I can be saved, then maybe it’s not as hard as we think it is. So the next time you see someone about to give up, don’t criticize them. Help them. Maybe a gesture as small as a smile can save a dying person.

Sometimes..

Sometime when I am sad, when I am upset. When I can’t fall asleep, no matter how long I have been lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, I imagine I am never going to wake up. I imagine this was the last day I had to suffer, this was the last day I had to go through. And I came out victorious. And I will not be remembered as a coward who took her own life. ‘It’ will happen on it’s own. ‘It’ will be the perfect solution for everything.

 I start imagining what will happen the next day, how will people react. What all things have I left unfinished. How will that affect others? How many will cry, but will in their hearts be happy. How many will actually be upset. I start with my family. When will those people who live in different cities come to know of my death? Will they come right away or will they wait and come when it suits them? Who will be the one to find me dead? How will that person react? I put all my family members in that place and imagine their reactions. Then I move on to my friends. How many of them will even care? I can count on one hand those who will show up at my house to get one last glimpse of me. Then I picture people taking me away. People talking, of how I died at such a young age.

Sometimes I am not able to make it to the end, sometimes I feel terrified. Scared that no one will care. And then I stop imagining. I stop thinking that I am going to die in my sleep. And that’s the best thing, you get to stop everything, you are the one in control. But there are nights when I make it to till the end. Nights when I don’t sleep at all. Nights when I lie on my bed, and stare into space. Imagining what I will be like to die peacefully in my sleep. When the end isn’t that bad at all. Maybe it’s the kind of end I don’t deserve; maybe I will die of some terrible disease. But at times it is good to know that there is a possibility.

When does it end?

                When does it end? All of us go through difficult times; all of us have times when we feel like nothing is worth the effort. We feel like we should give up. But we are told that it will end. This feeling will go away. This thing, which we are going through right now it will end. There will be brighter days. Days, when everything will be just perfect. But does it ever end? Do we ever get over the fact that once we wished we were dead or that once someone we loved so much left us when we needed them the most? Maybe brighter days come, maybe everything is perfect once again except the fact that we still remember it all and even though it is the past now we relive it everyday.

                 How do we survive then? How do we get over the fact that the even when the wound is healed a scars will always be there to remind us of those dark days? How do we even muster up the courage to get out of bed everyday and face the day ahead?

                We don't forget that we once we were so desperate for the sadness to end that we were even ready to accept death as an escape. We don't hide our scars. We wake up everyday and look at our scars and remind ourselves that we were strong enough to endure the pain. The scar symbolizes a battle. A battle we fought and won. A battle, that is over now. We don't think of those who left us, we think of those who were there by our side. Those who loved us enough to stay. And even when the pain doesn't end we are grateful of the fact that now it doesn't hurt that much.