From the Diary

by Owaiz

What a strange world I live in. Being narrow-minded is one thing but being un-understanding is another. I mean how hard is it to understand that someone with depression goes through shit? I would never wish all of this on another just so they understand, because I know how bad this is. I hope I can return to normalcy someday. But there are times when I get tired, ready to quit, and those are times when I could really use some support. A few words of kindness, knowing someone understands, support from family, but there is none. They choose to block it out. I try to be understanding because I know what it is like when others do not understand, but then I wonder why should I understand? What’s the point of understanding when no one understands you? I’m no saint or angel and I don’t want to be the better one either. It’s not always easy being different. There are no perks, really. Like today someone said I bring this upon myself, experimenting with medicines. Do I? Do you know what it feels like? Have you been through this? Is it that whatever you go through is real and what I go through is not? I’m not suicidal but death always seems like the answer. The idea of going to sleep and never waking up again is nothing but peaceful. I did not bring this upon myself. I did not choose to be who I am and how I am. This is just how it is. It’s not my fault so it is annoying when people make it sound like it is, like I can just ignore it, shrug it off, and move on. But then the sad part is that even the ones who may be able to understand choose not to. Imagine drowning in a pool surrounded by people, expert swimmers, and none of them lends you a hand or tries to save you. Why? Because they can swim and find it easy, they just assume everyone else should know how to swim too? If that’s how people continue to think, the world is going to end up a really fucked up place. It doesn’t matter whether someone can swim or not; all that matters is that you’re all in the pool. Together, by helping each other, we can make it last.  

P.S. I really like reading diaries, when allowed to. The idea of being able to enter into someone else’s mind and knowing how they think and what they think is very appealing to me. Here, I share something from my diary. The point of this is not only to give you a moment to be someone else, but to make you realize that people with mental disorders need support. I plan to write an entry on supporting the depressed sometime soon. This entry is copied from my Tumblr.