Theres things in my mind that i have no control over, my actions, my reactions my bad habits my impulsion, the way i behave, my persona, i can’t keep myslef in check at all times and it really really bothers me. I cant control what i dream of. I’m scared of going to sleep because it means i’ll dream of Newtown again. I keep telling myself that i’m better and i’ve adapted but have i really? Am i really a new surhan? am i no longer the surhan who lived in newtown? my unconscious keeps dragging me into the past and all i can do is run. I keep running and running and i dont even realize how tired i am. how stiff my legs have gotten. or maybe i’ve gotten used to this running. i want to move away from all this thinking and dwelling. i am better and i have adapted. i am better and have adapted. it kills me to think that i can be a thousand kilometers away from a place and it can still haunt me, so deeply so vividly. i cant get rid of these thoughts. everytime i close my eyes im in newtown, i find my way there no matter how im doing in life. The house haunts me, no matter where i am, whether im happy or sad my mind keeps me in check by reminding me of my ugly childhood. its like carrying an invisible sack of potatoes on my shoulders at all times, only i can see it and sometimes even i grow blind to it. i am better and have adapted. have i really or is it something i keep telling myslef to avoid the fact that i’m actually far worse than the newtown surhan? instead of growing out of it and becoming a better person, i keep growing into it. its like a tumor that is getting bigger with me, and its grip on me keeps getting stronger. i want to stop thinking.
im so full of sadness these days if i were to drill a hole in me and drain it all out it would flood the room knee deep and there’d still be tonnes to spare
Last night I dreamt of a flood. Noah’s flood. It had engulfed the whole of earth, with only a handful of survivors. No one that i would know survived, no one from the family, none of my friends, not one familiar face. I remember waking up from my hiding place and i saw water everywhere. There were remnants of a past human existence scattered in the scenery here and there, half a broken house, a few trees, no cattle. It felt like Ranipur, if you took away all signs of life. As if civilization has been birthed again and i was chosen to be a part of it. Like God wanted me to have a second chance at life. A reincarnation. I try to help the people around me, run errands for them, fetch them food and water. Everyone seems to be recovering from a long sleep. These people weren’t exceptionally pious. They seemed conflicted by normal human dilemmas, they had a very natural response to emotions and problems, they had no wisdom, no higher understanding of the mind, like the easily mould-able proletariat. They were simple and i saw myself as one of them. It occurs to me that we all survived by staying inside inflatable balloons of sorts when the floods came. And now after staying hidden we’ve come out to clear skies and sea everywhere. It feels more like we were hiding rather than sheltering ourselves, hiding from a higher power, maybe even God? I don’t know. It seemed too easy for the all-knowing to not have noticed he missed out a few while wiping out the entire earth.
I never see the flood coming, i just wake up in the dream, inside my balloon, with no memory of the past or how long i stayed in. The mood is not chaotic either, it’s more like a purge. A cleanse of sorts. Life flourishes better now. Things are more beautiful now. The flood was a need.
Never before in my life have i felt more alone. I have more friends than i’ve ever had, i have a loving family, a successful life. I’m doing better than i have ever before, yet this constant state of sadness and loneliness is eating at me. i feel like i have no physical presence, i don’t occupy any space, as if im not matter. i am a thought, an abstract concept that ought to be forgotten. a ghost that only exists faintly in memories.
I dreamt of crossing a four way intersection road, like the ones you find on M.A. Jinnah. I was in my college clothes, it was dark, well past maghrib and i had my laptop clutched in front of my chest like a shield. my hair was half up, the way i used to make it in July. I was alone and scared and big cars kept driving past from all directions, barely missing me. i remember feeling so lost, so alone in the dream i cried. i was trying my best to get through but i felt so weak, so small. i couldn’t cross. no matter how much i walked i never made it farther than the middle of the road. There was still an acre of it left to cross. The traffic police man didn’t see me, or at least pretended not to, or didn’t care. Blur blinding lights kept speeding past me. I woke up sweaty, with that same ache in my chest.
Theres a part of me that doesnt want to die. like a cancerous growth that wants to dominate. a tiny brain that wants to escape into reality, wants to replace my thoughts and live my life for me. i have wanted to die for the longest time and suddenly i dont anymore. i dont get fantasies of shooting my brains or jumping off buildings or stabbing my stomach with a kitchen knife. i want to let it live through me. im tired and i want to let go.
I want out. An escape. Something, anything that can stop me from feeling the way i feel now. Anything to stop thinking. I want to run away from everything. to disappear and never return. i cant die. dying would be more of a burden on everyone else but me. but i dont want to live like this. i would rather walk through life like a robot, avoiding all feeling all emotion. any kind of thinking that doesnt involve studies is strictly prohibited. no emotions whatsoever sadness is allowed sparingly no more speaking unless absolutely necessary, no more you. its a combined effort from here on, autopilot mode here on. we’re on the same team.
- watch the northern lights and photograph it
- learn an instrument (other than a uke)
- have a gallery display of all my paintings and photographs
- attain inner peace, reach peak self awareness
- learn another language (korean?)
- get a tattoo
- dye hair a brighter color
- do one thing every week that is out of my comfort zone
- give up smoking
- buy my own car
- get a girlfriend
- clear plab
- open new schools
- get a small apartment of my own, and move in with said girlfriend
- paint on the seaside, on a hilltop, under the stars, in a park.
- try not to kill myself, stop self harming and starving myself
i feel liberated. almost as if i were sysiphus and the boulder has finally stopped on top of the hill, as if i were atlas and the burden of earth is has slid off my shoulders. as if i were Punho and Sassui is lying in my arms safe and sound without a scratch to her being. As if i were Umer and Marvi has successfully crossed the river, alive and well, to be mine forever. As if i were the smoke off a cigarette butt, finally released into air, freed. As if i were the sprout struggling to break away the hard seed, then the hard earth, to finally breathe the sun. Like a thought thats been stuck inside the unconscious, peeking out in reflections, never fully revealing its true self, has finally spread its wings and taken flight out of the confines of the mind, into the realms of consciousness. I feel at peace.
A part of growing up means facing your fears, rushing out of your comfort zone and taking the impact of the consequences full square in the chest. head high, arms wide step up and take the wave of chaos that your ripple created right in the face. Thats when you know youve grown up. And thats what I’m trying to learn and understand. The things you did, your past, your mistakes they ll make a part of you that will stay in the space time continuum forever. There is no going back, no turning the clock. The only way to live with them is to live without regrets. Without the ifs and buts. Fear is not the enemy, neither is shame. They are normal healthy responses and are meant to be felt and lived to the fullest. The real enemy is the need to be joyous at all times. To be in denial of your suffering. To be smiling and happy in times where your body is urging you to experience sadness for it to heal.
I’ve been so sad my entire life and I’ve been in denial of my feelings for so long, it feels like every emotion i feel, other than sadness, is fake and a mirrored response. I feel like an outsider who has adapted to live with people by mirroring them. The only true emotions i can writes essays about are hopelessness, anxiousness, emptiness, inadequacy, longing.