Wednesday 14 August 2019

Fighting the Good Fight

Sometimes I wonder what it’s like to not have to live with mental health problems. Do you know what comes under that weird bracket if you don’t associate yourself with it? Are you curious to even find out? Or is it just something you need to name when you feel like you might die and it doesn’t seem to be physical?

I’ve always envisioned my brain as two parts cut right down in the center. It may be the impression that we’ve been all given that there’s a left and right side of your brain. But I don’t think of it as whatever - creative bullshit versus knowledge. They are two different Nishita’s just sitting there and making my life fucking miserable. I guess it is some twisted version of the devil and angel on your shoulder - one says positive shit while the other tries its hardest to make sure you fuck up. My entire life has felt like a constant fight, a struggle, a war. Even though I am privileged as fuck and have faced very minor hardships in my life, every day has felt like a boxing match. Life lands some pretty heavy blows, I try to get back up as one is expected to and sometimes I succeed and some days I fail. But either way, I feel knocked around as hell - covered in bruises and bleeding all over. I stitch myself up, put a slice of meat on my wounds, take some pills and try to just fall asleep. To fight another day, right? 

It feels like a bad mob movie you know? Like Daredevil with his dad or Rocky - where I have to fight or else I die. And if I die, everyone dies. So now along with fighting fucking life in the form of Rocky, I also have to think about everyone else’s survival. Just great. Now the question is, how do I do this while also being cheerful and productive? How does one work, love and have fun while being beaten to a pulp inside your mind? I try not to dwell on the obvious fact that many people manage to do just that and seem to do it very well. But the problem right now is that it feels like I’ve lost a lot of fights recently - like a ridiculous amount, stretched over the past 6 months. I want to quit so badly. I’m obviously not very good at boxing so why am I even trying any more? Why should I keep fighting just to lose? 


The good part of my brain whispers, ‘Because of the chance, the possibility that you might win.’ I love this girl, I really do. But she’s just so fucking weak sometimes and can never seem to fight off the terrible chick. She says all these great things but then just never follows through because of the other one. Yes, there is a possibility I might win that day. It might even be possible for me to hit a winning streak next month. But are the chances worth all the falls and all the injuries? Do I like the game enough to keep playing? Do I even care if I win anymore? 

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