An Uneffective Cure
Today marks an anniversary of something that I thought was going to cure all my problems. It is something that I have not talked a lot about with anyone. As I talked about in my post , I got a seat in what was one of the most prestigious colleges in India, Bangalore Medical College & Research Institute. It was located in a big city and was well respected. The teachers were friendly and so were the seniors. It was a place I believed would cure my problems once I settled into it. My previous experience at PGI, Rohtak had been traumatic and I believed that if I just changed my city, I might get better.
I have talked previously about how I was very embarrassed of myself for having to skip a year and be what others would call a ‘dropper’. I had trained myself to consider this word such a shame that all my focus was on getting a college in my first attempt. I had to now make peace with the fact that I was in fact a dropper and it was such a big shame for me that I didn’t even tell anyone that I was shifting to Bangalore. I just wished to ghost away from everyone I knew and start afresh. I believed this was going to be my chance to do so. I updated my facebook status to remind myself of when I had started this new journey but I also set its privacy setting to an only me level, so only I could see and constantly remind myself of how much I had failed. I was really hard on myself then, I justified it to myself as well but it really was something that would be harsh for anyone.
As I went to Bangalore, I was surprised by how different the teachers here were from my previous college; how different my classmates were etc. It was basically a big surprise but I still struggled to settle in despite everything being the way I wanted it to be. Something seemed like it was jammed in my break and wouldn’t let go. I had no motivation to attend classes; no motivation to talk to someone new and basically no motivation to even live. I couldn’t understand any of it; why it was happening, what was wrong or basically any query anyone might have had. I was just carrying too much baggage and refused to let go of it, even when I wanted to. I visited psychiatrists, therapists and psychologists there but I still didn’t get any better. I won’t go in a lot of detail about what it was like, but it was tough, much tougher than anyone else could probably imagine. Eventually, I had to leave that college as well and I ended up doing what I did. Things could have gone very differently but they turned out this way and I am not going to judge whether it was better or worse.
Today I struggle with a sense of belonging; I don’t know really know where I am morally or ideologically. I struggle sometimes when I have to face the fact that I am just using some jokes as a mask and I have no idea what I am going to do when the mask slips off. All that in mind, I am much better than I was. I wish to talk to new people, make new friends and just get to know more people in general. I don’t really know how to do that though so that presents a different challenge in itself but maybe I will learn to. There are days that are tough, when the flashbacks strike back, I will need time to get better and well let us just say that things have changed a lot in the year since that day. Talking to new people doesn’t give me a lot of help, but it does help me keep my mind off of things. So the more new people I meet, the better it will be for me. I will probably need a few bridge-like people to reach them though, that’s where you can come in, in case you wish to help.