Why do Humans Hate?

Hate is a strong word. Why hate, when you can love? You should be a better human. I thought you are happy in life. You are a strong person. Why do you have to be like this? Hate means you still think about them, why give them space in your life?
and the list goes on and on. My last post was a hate post, where I openly hated on people from a phase of my life. It was not the darkest phase, but yes, close enough. So why do I choose to hate rather than be a better human and forgive?



Urm..Apparently for the same reason, To be a better human. When Pandora opened the box releasing all the evils, hatred became a part of the worldly life. I hate broccoli, I hate that music or maybe something intense, like, I hate you.

I'll share an excerpt from a story here. Read on.

"She knew she couldn't cry. She couldn't show her tears to anyone. Too many questions. She felt her breathing hasten. It was getting harder to breathe. She couldn't understand how anything could affect her breathing. 'I expected this much. I swear, I did. Miracles have never happened in love for me. Why did I expect one now?', she said trying to breath deep to calm herself down. She looked into the mirror, straight into her eyes. She knew what had to be done. In a second, she could feel herself in control again. Back at her desk, she was the person everyone knew her to be, again. The rest of the day went by, with her controlling herself well enough. She was much better at it from practise. Apart from her dysfunctional tear glands that seem to betray her and her facade from time to time. But mostly, she was successful. On her way back home from work, she would usually get the bus. Tonight was especially windy.  A strange weather, topped with the most beautiful moon. A beautiful stormy night. The paradoxical night made her feel sick. Everything felt wrong, from the way the leaves rustled to the way that there was no one on the streets. She didn't like the fact that the moon shone so bright. It would have been better if it was darker. As she made her way to the bus stop, she found herself struggling with the strong winds. But really, she was struggling with something else. She was trying hard to find those emotions she buried during lunch.
She felt the urgent need to cry. She felt the tinges of pain, but sadness was nowhere to be found. Instead she felt weaker. She felt lost. Waiting for her bus in the windy night, she could feel the war raging inside of her just as the winds were raging outside. 'Where did I hide the pain? Why am I not able to find it?', she thought to herself.  Her eyes were flooded with tears, yet she couldn't feel the pain. It felt wrong. She felt drained. She felt betrayed. Sadness and tears, though looked down upon, are miracles to the life of humans. They let you heal, they let you feel. But from her constant exercise of suppressing those feelings, she felt like she had broken herself a bit. She remembered her conversation with a friend from a while back,".....You know when it hurts so much, that you can't breath. It hurts here in the chest like someone stabbed a knife and dragged it around. It literally feels like that. And it hurts so much that you feel you can't live with it anymore. It feels like you would die. And then when you can't bear it anymore, suddenly, it vanishes. Suddenly all your pain vanishes. But not in a good way. It's as if you turn off the switch to your emotions. But only, you not only stop feeling pain and sadness, you stop feeling everything. It feels like living in a void. It doesn't feel human. Like a machine set to work, you carry on with your life, without feeling anything.....". Just then she saw her bus coming from a distance. She knew she couldn't face other humans. She just had to deal with herself on her own. Without thinking twice, she started walking in the direction of her house, missing the last bus. The winds still raging strong, were ironically, the perfect representation of the feelings stirring inside her. The memories started flooding from a place she had chosen to forget about. It brought hatred, pure hatred raging through her blood........."


Now, one might think that the person in this story succumbed to her hatred making her less human. But actually, hatred saved her. It was the key. It saved her from losing herself. I believe that the range of emotions that humans can feel support each other. Happiness and sadness support each other. Similarly, love and hatred also support each other. You can't always be happy or always feel love. That is something that makes us so unique. The unique set of things we like and dislike. The unique set of things that bring us joy and pain. For a long time, I suppressed my feelings of pain. I suppressed my feelings of hatred.

I always sought to understand. I always sought to be happy. But it doesn't work that way. You feel all or you feel nothing. And that understanding of myself has empowered me to be a better human being. And I don't mean that in a nobel peace prize laureate way. Humans are designed to feel a myriad of emotions. Acknowledging some emotions while suppressing others doesn't work.

Although I mean to perpetuate hatred, in no way I support hate crime. Please know the difference. It's not hard to understand. It's a simple concept. I hate broccoli. But that doesn't mean I spend my eternal life destroying every piece of broccoli I find. I just stay away from it and I let the people who enjoy it enjoy it. If I hate certain music, I'll not listen to it. It doesn't mean I'll in any way abuse the person who makes that music.

If I hate you ( the people from a certain dark phase of my life, the fucker set of three roomies I had, the love I had faith in, and people I trusted as friends who ended up disrespecting our friendship just because I didn't reciprocate their feelings of love), I really hate you.  My eternal goal in life would be to stay away from you. Stay away from me because If I meet you, I would eat pills of indigestion just to barf and shit all over you. I would do that without an ounce of remorse, I would.

It's funny in a way. I have a few people in my life who hate me. I know they hate me to the core (mostly because I didn't reciprocate their feelings of love). It's hardly ever any other reason. I'm a very lovable person, believe me. I could never understand why they hated me so much. Maybe because I never acknowledged the power of the emotion, that is Hatred. I always thought, 'Why do they hate when they can love?'. It was a lesson ingrained deep inside of me. '...you should not hate. You should love everything and everyone. Spread love, not hatred...'

But I'm here to tell you, you have been taught wrong. We have been taught wrong. You should hate so you can love. You should hate because it's what makes you unique. You should hate because it's what makes you more human.

Having said that, it's a simple case. If you hate broccoli, you wouldn't go about destroying the very existence of broccoli. Because there's a myriad of other things to be eaten, explored, tasted. People often say 'Don't waste your time on hate', when instead they should say, ' Don't waste your time acting on your hate'.

When you know what you hate, you can start from there to find what you love. You hating something or someone doesn't make you any less human or a weak human. If anything, it makes you more human. It forces you to accept and acknowledge those feelings, move on and find the things you really love. What does make you less of a human, is if you let the feeling of hatred sweep all over you and hurt someone in the process. But hatred is not be blamed here. It's the same with love. If you love something or someone too much and obsess about them, love can be more harmful than hatred.

I hope this lesson on hatred would help my readers in some way. It's easy to ignore the importance of hatred when you haven't felt its need. You will eventually understand what I say here, if you don't already. For all people out there who care for me, I'm just a human. A flawed one at that. And I take pride in acknowledging that for a fact. Please don't tell me to feel more of a certain emotion and less of others. It doesn't work that way. For everyone out there who hates me, urm well, I have just validated your feelings. So believe me when I say, I will stay away from your life. For all the people I personally hate, like I said in my previous post, fuck off!!! Unless you wish to be buried in barf and shit.

Peace not out.
Ruhie

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Empath Exploding!

(P.S.: Viewer discretion advised)

I’M AN EMPATH AND I HATE IT

Life of an empath is a roller coaster ride. I hate feeling what others are feeling. I hate connecting to what others are feeling. I hate not being able to discern my feelings with that of others. Some days, I feel great being a healer, being someone who is such an amazing listener, being someone people inevitably fall in love with, being someone who understands varied people and situations. But most days, I hate it. I hate it to the core. I wish I could stop feeling so much of everyone's emotions. I wish I could stop understanding people so much. I wish I could just feel my pain alone instead of a mixture of everyone’s feelings.




Today I hate each and every person I ever healed. I hate each and every person I ever understood. I feel so wronged to the point where I believe justice and Karma do not exist.

If we ever were friends and if ever you felt like I healed you, understood you, meant something very important to you. If you ever felt that I understood your words and your silence. And if because of that, if because of those precious moments, if you confessed to me your undying love. Fuck you. I hate you. If I was ever The One to you because of how nice I was to you, fuck you!!!!!!!! If you ever felt like I loved you just because we spent time together and I trusted you as a friend, fuck you. Die . Burn in the pits of hell and fucking die.

If you ever cursed me the whole night, while I tried hard to remind you of your real self while asking if you were alright and apologizing incessantly to you even though it wasn’t my fault ( you know it). Fuck me, I hate myself for being this human being who feels others pain more than I feel my own. And fuck you, fuck off.

If this seems like a hate post, it might just be. Because I’ve had enough. I’ve been bullied. My personal things searched without my permission and my personal life gossiped and laughed at by my bullies. But fuck me, when those bullies were ill, I cried for them and their pain. I ran to the store to get them medicines. I made them home medicines in the mid of the night when there was no one to tend to them. Yes fuck myself for crying. For feeling their pain. I hate myself for feeling others pain. And you fucking bitches, do you think you’re all that and more, just because you’re stubborn? I didn’t say a word. Except my tears, you didn’t see anything, because fucking that’s what I could do. Because guess what I could understand your need to bully me!! I understood how low you felt of your already tiny persona that you had to resort to such shit. You have no idea how it feels. Being an empath is constantly fighting myself from kicking your ass to inevitably understanding your ugly soul.

I lost everything important to empathy. I did. Today I lost my faith and fuck you if you’re gonna tell me oh don’t lose faith. Because I realized for some people, feelings are portable. Apply to you today, to someone else tomorrow. So fuck your principles and your tattoos. Where was I the last three years? I don’t know. Hmm let me think. Maybe the first year, I was depressed. I wanted you so bad. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I weighed 38 kg and I slept less than 2 hours every day. And I didn’t make my way to you, because fuck I thought about the guy I trusted as a friend and his feelings. Because fuck , I thought I wasn't good enough for you. Because fuck I felt everyone’s feelings but my own. All I felt was empty and hollow. Oh then what about the next year? Fuck you, who already found someone else ….And now you ask me, it has already been 3 years. Yes fuck you. It has already been three years. Fuck you and fuck her!!! The one thing I’m going to do is break her nose and her few teeth. Because fuck myself for understanding everyone’s feelings.

If you’re a hot shot. Be whoever the fuck you want to be. Why am I responsible for your feelings? Is a clear No not enough. Fuck you if you think you deserve more, just because you scored more in an exam that tests nothing more than knowledge of a few books read by millions or gave away money to people in charity. Fuck you if you think you came all the way to another country for your love. Well fucker, remember how you told me you were coming for yourself. After dealing with my personal depression, why do I need to deal with your fucking feelings as well? Well, fuck you dammit. You might be a genius angel for someone, for me you're just a fucker.

And for the biggest kind of fucker I ever met on Earth who deserves nothing less than the worst treatment of hell. I trusted you. You knew that. I trusted you, so I protected you, our friendship and your feelings. You knew how much love I had for the person in my life. Yet you had the guts to destroy all my happiness. I’ve had enough of understanding your feelings, because all I really felt was betrayed. You never even apologized for the fucking mess you made of my life. And yet me, my stupid self, felt bad for you for the longest time, even though it was me who lost the most precious thing to me in life.

This is a letter to all fuckers out there, Fuck you for thinking you’re the most important thing in the world. Fuck me for making you think that way. This is a letter to all empaths, fuck such people. Kick them out before they become the poison to your existence. You don’t have to apologize for anyone.

If any of my reader (not part of the above list) feels sympathetic for my pain, don’t. I’m an empath. I was born to take people’s shit. I was made strong enough to take the worst shit that comes in my life, but fragile enough to cry for others pain. I have cried all night, eaten next to nothing, felt nothing but pain and yet I’ve made my way to work. I’ve smiled to people who needed my smile. I’ve helped my friends and enemies alike. I’m not what you thought I was. I’m everything you never thought I was.

For all you fuckers reading this post, fuck off and never ever come back to my life. And for any fucker who thinks I might be The One, the love of their life, fuck off already. Like I said, I’ve lost FAITH in anything close to love or justice.

P.S.: Just fuck off already!!!!



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逆夢 (Sakayume) : Searching for reality (Part 4: Most Beautiful Man)

...Continued from Part 3...

'No, but really what were you up to? I'm always  curious as to how you spend your days on Earth', Doctor quizzed Yukie.

She sighed, thinking to herself, 'There he goes again'.

'Well nothing much. I'm living an average life there. A 9 to 5 job, a few interests to keep me busy, family and some friends', she replied hoping to answer in a way that wouldn't raise more questions.

'Ohh. That sounds good. But let me ask you something please?', he continued hinting an oncoming question.

'Always a question', she thought to herself. 'Yes please, do ask', she replied resigning to the fact that there was no escaping the Doctor and his questions.

'What about love? I heard humans are really into finding a fellow human and calling it love. Are you not, in human terms, 'seeing' someone?, he asked her.

That was a hard question for her. Living in two worlds was something she could cope with, but relations, not really. In fact, most of her relations happened in a time zap where she had been zapping unintentionally. It was almost impossible for her to be in a relation due to her past traumas. As a defense, her body put her in a timed zap without her realizing it.

She would almost always feel this urge, that something wasn't going right, that she wasn't herself. She would suggest breaking off. She would always find reasons to break off. For her, it was the only way to feel like herself again. And when the relations finally ended, the timed zap would end as well. She would feel like herself again.

Unfortunately, she ended up making a few enemies and bitter exes on the way. She never understood why they hated her so much. They never understood how she could forget all those precious memories of them being together and in love.

'There is someone', she replied.

' Oh, Brilliant. Is he tall and handsome?', the Doctor probed deeper.



'He is....just himself. You know when sometimes you meet someone gorgeous and then you actually talk to them and five minutes later they're as dull as a brick?

Then there's other people, and you meet them and you think, "Not bad. They're okay." And then, you get to know them and their face just sort of becomes them. Like their personality is written all over it. And they just, they turn into something so beautiful. Nezumi is the most beautiful man I ever met', she said with eyes that spoke volumes of the depth of her love.

'Beautiful words', the Doctor said sensing Yukie's emotions. 'So you are "seeing someone"', the Doctor added teasingly.

'No, I'm not', Yukie replied sounding dead as a wall.

'I thought you just described him', the Doctor added looking puzzled.

'I did, indeed. You see it's complicated. I was dating him when I didn't knew anything about timed zapping and this alternative world and the interface and dream walking. I didn't understand myself. I didn't understand anything I did. He didn't understand anything I did', frustration peeking her voice. She stopped for a second to cool off. The Doctor tried hard not to worsen the awkward silence.

'It was always miscommunication. I hurt him real bad and now..he is with someone else. And he is happy', she added in a lost voice.

'And are you happy?', asked the Doctor sensing the strain in Yukie's eyes to resist the tears.

She turned her face to control her emotions, took a deep breath and controlled herself, before turning back and replying with a smile.

'You know what, it doesn't matter?', she replied trying to forget the pang tugging at her heart.

'Why does it not matter? Why does his happiness matter while yours doesn't?', the Doctor asked her looking straight in her eyes.

'Because it isn't love if it's not both sided'.

'Now what does that mean?', the Doctor asked looking more puzzled than before.

'Well...Love is an emotion felt in unison by two people. It's never about one person alone. If it's just one person, then it's just infatuation or in extreme cases obsession. I don't believe that only one person can create love. Just like you need two hands to clap, you need two hearts to make and sustain love', Yukie explained with an air of wisdom in her voice.

'Hmm..Interesting!', half smiling, the Doctor replied.

'Ok, What is it? Why are you smiling now?'

'Erm..No..I just realized from your description of the person that you are obsessed about him, given that he doesn't love you anymore', the doctor said teasingly giving a devilish smile.

'No, I'm not!!! That description is from when we were in love! Both of us!!!', she shouted unknowingly.

'Hahaha..so she says', the doctor replied looking amused at Yukie's sudden burst of anger before getting busy with the Coronal Intergalactic Interface.

'No. I'm seriously not', she shouted to the back of the busy Doctor.

Hands crossed to her chest, she felt herself take a sharp breath, a thought flashing her mind, ' Maybe I am. Am I?' She gulped hard, before wondering, 'Where do I belong? Who do I belong to?'

Noone chose to be a Dream Walker. They were born this way.


(To be Continued...)
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逆夢 (Sakayume) : Searching for reality (Part 3: The First Encounter)

...Continued from Part 2...

A year later...

Yukie found herself waking up to the humming sound of machines. It was hard to open her eyes to the blinding white surroundings. She noticed something move near the corner of her eye. Her brain managed to decipher the image receptors of her eyes and for once she knew it was a familiar face.

'Ahh. Wakey wakey! Someone's finally up!'

She tried to move herself up to the friendly voice of the Doctor. Her head still feeling the buzz. Like woken up from a bad hangover, she tried to settle her head by applying pressure and blinking her eyes.

'Ah! Why do all humans do this? I know your head is buzzing from the zap but squeezing your head and blinking your eyes hard wouldn't really help, you know. It's all your perception, like when you try to turn off the volume of your music in the car when you're trying to see the directions.', the rusty voice said once more.

'We're going already?', she asked looking a bit confused.

' Well, yes my dear. Unless you were doing something interesting back on Earth! Which I'm sure you weren't because you were sleeping.', he added with no ounce of sarcasm hidden.

She half smiled at him acknowledging the legitness of the comment before bringing herself from the couch cum her personal bed, these days. She had her first encounter with the Doctor when she was a teenager. For most teenagers, breakup gone wrong wouldn't mean much more than few weeks of crying and moving on. But it was different for her. It was like fuel added to her dark past. Something that she had chosen to bury long back. It ate her every night.

Add to the ordeal, her parent's pressure to get good grades! Oh, the world puts too much importance on things that are of no use at all. She knew now. The grades were nothing but a bunch of papers from her past that held no importance in the worlds she frequented now.

But she didn't know back then. Unfortunately, none of the kids know that. They just believe what they are told. Living a world that the society wants them to live. Never really learning, never really growing, never really living.

In all of this, Yukie found her respite in meditation. She would meditate for hours. It started off as an interlude that brought her peace and focus. But somewhere, the sessions became longer. She ended up in such cogitative state for days on end with no memory of what happened in between in her surrounding, like working on auto-pilot. She knew she was doing what she was supposed to do, going where she was supposed to go, but not knowing how.  She always found it strange that she could never remember things. Her family and friends would scold her, get angry at her for forgetting things big and small. But she never did that on purpose.

She just had no idea of what they were talking about. Sometimes, some things they said clicked and she did recall. But on most days, she just nodded yes to avoid an awkward conversation about her memory, or the lack of it.

But it really got worse, when she unknowingly started slipping into these meditative states during her sleep. She remembered clearly, that fateful night.

She was in a room that looked very much like hers, but felt different. Her table, her wardrobe, her mirror...For a second, she lost her breath. There was no reflection. She was right there in front of the mirror! It felt like the worst nightmare.

'Maybe the mirror was faulty...maybe it's not a mirror..maybe its a drea...', before she could finish her train of thoughts, she saw herself. She finally saw herself. She was lying on the bed, just the way she remembered she fell asleep a few hours back.

'How can I see myself? It's a dream...it's a dream....it's a dream.....it has got to be a dream', she shouted inside her brain to calm herself. She looked down to her feet and forced herself to think that it was just a dream.

'I need to wake up...Everything will be fine, then...I need to wake up!', she thought to herself. She loved it when her brain worked on critical moments such as this. She clenched her fists closed and her eyes shut.

'Wake up...wake up....wake up', she tried to force herself. But just when she thought she would wake up from this dream that was nothing short of a nightmare, she felt something.

It's nothing short of a miracle, the 'Human Instincts'. It's an aid to the gift of life bestowed to humans, strongest when that gift of life is in danger. And that moment, all her instincts told her something very dangerous was right in front of her.



She opened her eyes to a monstrous dark figure standing near the windows. Just like a ghost from a movie she saw, it came inside her room without the need for a door. It looked dark, gaseous and spine chilling. She took a sharp breath and looked down at her body on the bed sandwiched between the dark figure and herself.

'This can't be right!, she thought to herself, tears welling her fear-filled eyes. She stood their frozen, not knowing what to do, with hands over her mouth. This whole situation was nothing but a math equation she didn't knew how to solve. At 18, how was she supposed to make sense of something like this?

'Well, it could be a dream. This could all be a dream. Just a nightmare. I knew I was pushing it by watching all the horror movies. I'm pretty sure it's just my brain.', her thoughts ramming each other inside her brain.She wanted to feel that it was a dream, but for some strange reason, it felt so real, painfully real.

The dark figure took a look at her and then moved towards her body lying on the bed. Out came a scythe from the dark figures body. It moved the scythe over Yukie's sleeping body and her body started to writhe in pain.

Yukie watched all this happen in utter horror. 'So this is what it looks like to watch yourself die. It's painful...It's painful...It's painful', she cried hard. The scythe moved over her body from head to her toe. As it reached her heart, she felt something. She saw every moment of her life rewind in front of her eyes. It took less than a few seconds to see the entirety of life she had led.

She stood frozen. Back in the moment, she saw the scythe move down.

'This feels too true to be a dream. This can't be...This can't be a dream. Does that mean I'm dying?' she thought to herself confused. She saw the picture of her parents and family hung on the wall of her room.

She felt herself sinking to the ground. She couldn't stand anymore. She could feel her end. And there was nothing she could do or she could think of doing.

She did what all humans are programmed to do, ask for help.


Ask and it will be given to you
Seek and you will find
Knock and the door will be opened to you 
(Matthew 7:7)


(To be Continued...)
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逆夢 (Sakayume) : Searching for reality (Part 2: The Stains Within)

(Fictional story series based on depression. Reader discretion advised)

...Continued from Part 1...

It was time for her last resort. Yukie took off all her clothes in a hurry and headed towards the bathroom for a hot shower. She had known from experience that it always helped. She would put on her favorite music and stand for hours under the hot shower. Her family often wondered what took her so long to take a bath. It wasn't her body she was washing, but her heart. It wasn't dirt that she was trying to get rid of, but her pain. And it took time.



It was almost a ritual. Choose the song playlist for the day, while the water heated up. On some days, it was the happy playlist, on others, the sassy, and yet on other days such as today, she needed the saddest songs to let her emotions make way out of herself. She was so good at hiding her feelings that it was almost bad for her. Her feelings and emotions ended up being bottled up inside, before bursting out as a volcano or making her very sick. She knew she had to let it out. She stepped into the shower with the speaker playing the saddest of melodies. 

It didn't took her long to burst into tears and cry as if it was the last day of her life. After minutes of crying her heart out, she felt better. Not entirely, but it was better than how she started. That was enough for today's shower. 

She was a roller coaster of emotions. Pure excitement and joy at one moment, darkness and sadness the other. It was hard for others to understand her. Even people she trusted the most often failed to understand her. She stopped expecting anyone to understand her after sometime. She just lived her life alone. 

'If I walk alone, I wouldn't confuse anyone. If I walk alone, I wouldn't hurt anyone', she told herself. She never let anyone inside the walls that guarded her heart.

Or maybe she did. Yes, she did. She let him in. Of course, just like others he chose to walk away. It was hard for him to understand her. It was painful for him to understand her. She knew it. So she let go. Although he was all that she wanted, all that she dreamed, all that she loved. She let him go.

She knew a day would come when he would let go. But she never knew that a day when she could let him go would never come. She loved him with all her heart and her broken bits and pieces put together.

"There's no such thing as a sadness that lasts forever and there's no such thing as a love that lasts forever either.

I think there is.

Which one though, sadness or love?

A sad love"


Every night, she debated if she should beg him to be back in her life. Every night she rewinded all the memories that they shared. Every night she decided that she was too complicated to ever be able to give him happiness.Every night she cried herself to sleep with this thought of resignation.

She was great at forgetting memories that hurt. Something she picked up when she was a kid in her bid to forget the demons that haunted her. Yet she was never able to wipe him off her memories. And every night it hurt and hurt and hurt and hurt and hurt. 

With the feel of metal in her mouth and a heart heavy as a rock, she lulled herself to sleep again. The only relief that by morning she will forget everything. It will be another bright day. People around her will only see her smile and hustle. She will do great until it's night again.

Days bright as the Sun, nights dark as coal. She was God's greatest irony - living and breathing.


(To be Continued...)
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逆夢 (Sakayume) : Searching for reality (Part 1: Winter that lasted forever)

(Fictional story series based on depression. Reader discretion advised)

As she made her way back home. Rain pouring gently over her head, she felt queasy. She couldn't put a finger on the reason. Was it the cold rain? Or a stomach bug she caught from work? Or the hurt that had it's place in her heart?



On most days, it was hard to point the reason for her happiness, her sadness, even her existence. Looking up to the cloudy sky, she stopped for a minute to let the cold rain cover up her tears. She didn't want anyone in her apartment to know she was crying. It was always hard for her to explain to others.

Reaching the apartment door, she tried to take her keys out of her hand bag. The cold had her hands freezing. It hurt to skin her hands while taking out the keys from the hard leather bag. She didn't want to do it. She wished for the ground to eat her up, or the sky to swallow her.

'It would be so much easier to stop existing. I'm sure it would hurt less', she thought to herself for a second. Like a lightening bolt, the face of her favorite singer flashed her mind. He was the same age as her and was her inspiration. Through many of his songs, he had comforted her. On nights filled with tears, his songs had always served as a source of solace.



"Famous young singer commits suicide in his apartment. Last words, 'It has been very tough'."


She wondered if he felt better now. Her hands finally traced the apartment keys from her bag. 'No, don't think about such things. Like the counsellor said, 'One step after another, I need to keep living. I can do this. Fighting!', she convinced herself.

Over the years, her counsellor had embedded these words inside her brain. It didn't hurt any less, but counselling did help her recognize and understand herself better and also gave her the power to not think of anything extreme.

She opened the doors of her apartment to meet the familiar odor of cigarettes and Max, her roommate's dog. She hated this smell. She loved everything about this apartment and her roommate Mia,  except the fact that Mia smoked inside the house. She adored Max, but it didn't help that his odor mixed with the cigarette smoke created a smell which had to be her least favorite.

Opening the door to the living room, she realized the house was empty. 'She must have gone for Christmas shopping', Yukie thought to herself. She didn't like that the feeling of being alone in the house. It seemed so much bigger when she was alone. The queasy feeling in her chest started growing again.

The mirror on the stairs that led to her room greeted her as usual. In the mornings, she found it useful to touch up her lipstick. But on most evenings and nights, she avoided the mirror. 

"If you look into the mirror for long enough when alone, you could see your inner self."

She stole a glance to see how bad it was. She looked nothing like herself. Her skin was dark, her eyes had a strange sense of loss and sadness. The rain drops wouldn't have helped. Anyone who saw her at that moment could tell that she wasn't doing well. As she made her way up the stairs, she felt a strange weight take all over her body. It wasn't the bag she was holding. It was the weight of her heavy heart that she carried with her.' One step after another...One step after another...', she kept repeating to herself.

She reached her room to find her familiar haven. The one place where she could be herself with all her smiles and tears. She threw the bag to a corner and herself on to the bed. Staring at the ceiling, she hoped that lying on her bed would somehow take away the nauseous feeling. Tiredness could be the reason, after all.

It would be better if it's the stomach bug', she thought to herself when even minutes of lying on her bed didn't help. Because if it wasn't, then it was probably going to be a long night for her. 

Depression can take many forms. The worst form is that of helplessness. You can almost taste metal in your mouth. As if your heart made its way from your chest to your mouth. The feeling of helplessness takes over your existence with every option of an escape shutting itself on you.


(To be Continued...)
Pic Courtesy: 2

Letters to Love: Time and Band Aids

Which helps heal first? Time or Band-Aids?

I got a cut on my finger. I was told that a band aid could help in healing it. My heart was hurt by someone. I was told that time would heal my wounds. But both those statements were proven wrong! Neither did the band aid help with the cut nor time with the hurt.