What’s on my mind.

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When we think of ‘commitment phobia’, what do we assume? We assume a guy who doesn’t want to settle down with the girl he’s been dating for the last fifteen years. But is it possible that there is some other version of it? What about the plans we refuse to make, the plans that we make and hope someone cancels it so we don’t have to do the tricky job of calling it off.  What about the girl who is too nervous to put work into something that is not self-satisfaction based, the girl who only wants to live a hassle-free, organized-messy life with her time left all to herself. A person to who gets a metaphorical anxiety attack when she realizes that this is going to a lot of work. Is this a commitment phobic person?  I think, yes.

I, for one, am the girl who is so nervous about every little decision I make. I don’t second-guess myself, but I fear the outcome. For someone who wants nothing more than to be a success , expending time and energy of something that may/may not have a positive outcome seems like too big a leap of faith. Anxiety is over brimming my consciousness…but what can you do? You have to do what you promised to do.

All I hope for is that I do not end up with something stagnant and futile. Anxiety and commitment phobia…a little too heady an intoxication.

A Description of the All-night Vigil.

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One word: Insomina, a beautiful lexicon which describes the torment that is habitual sleeplessness. Lying listlessly enveloped in sheets, night after night, going through a milder form of sleep deprivation; taking the longer route to neuroticism. Staring at the dark ceiling in complete wakefulness, contemplating god knows what. Constantly reasoning why we are awake, why we are tired yet unable to sleep. Wondering why our minds won’t shut down, repeating a lyric glued in our memory on a loop or enjoying the faint echo of nostalgia. Thinking up delightful yet ludicrous scenarios of impossible probabilities, preparing ingenious retorts for a fight that the future may anticipate. Worrying for our loved ones,fidgeting over vexatious thoughts tumbling in our minds. Losing sleep over what unforseen distress the morrow will bring. The pain of an insomniac is inexplicable. Engulfed in fatigue and fretfulness- still moving forward, still trying to make it through the day, in hope of slumber.

Stress and Distress.

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Hello? Is anybody out there?

Can you hear me?Please…help.

I’m stuck down here, help me!

Do you hear me? I can’t get out…

Say something! Do you see me?

Here! In the well! Anyone?

It’s dark down here and cold

And I’m scared and alone.

 

What are you doing down there?

Said a lady in grey clothing and hair.

Scowling at the girl stuck inside the well,

she asked:Why are you making such a fuss?

The well doesn’t even have that much depth.

The girl below stared hopefully at the

Woman peering at her from above.

The grey lady spoke again,

People have much greater troubles,

Some are stuck in canyons

Whilst you draw attention to your shallow well.

Get out of the well on your own.

The girl replied: But how?

I don’t see a ladder or a rope…

How do I get myself out of here?

How do I cope?

Clamber up the walls,

The other voice said.

But I don’t see walls,

I see darkness everywhere;

Why won’t you help me?!

The grey woman left her alone.

 

Alone inside the damp,dark well.

Alone with her thoughts,

Succumbing to her helplessness,

Pain throbbing in the middle of her chest,

Mucus closing down her wind pipe,

Left alone with no help,

Stuck inside a well…

Because others had canyons.


What depression, anxiety, and other similar problems feel like. Greater problems of another, don’t make your problems any less. Seek help. Don’t be The Girl In The Well.