It’s almost 3 months since I (she) broke up with her (me). It would be an understatement to say that I struggled. It was tougher than the next five struggled I had in life combined. It’s like being unemployed, mistreated, sleeping on a wet bed with bad dreams, and then made to run, battling pain in every part of my body.
There have been some patterns to my struggles. Weird. But I want to talk about them.
First one is inertia. There have been hours I haven’t left the bathtub thinking why it happened and what’s worthwhile to do coming out of the bathtub. Let’s just stay where I am. When I sleep I don’t want to wake up. When I am awake I want to just stay put. It’s like suddenly the cost of context switching has skyrocketed.
Another weird thing is dilation. Silence has filled the conversation. Breaks have expanded to fill the work days sometime. I fear the afternoon. They seem unending. That’s the time when everyone is asleep in India, and I am as restless as I can ever be. Depleted willpower. Helpless. Just waiting for the clock to hit 5 PM, so that I can call Mom.
Finally, as an introvert, one of my favorite possessions has been taken away from me. I no longer enjoy my me-time. I fear those moments. Meditation feels like torture. Dreams often punish me. Thoughts constantly tortures me. Reflection seems a futile exercise because conclusion is always an endless loop.
But it’s not like I have given up hope.
Everything in this life transitory, and even this phase. Even life. Perfecting something that is by design impermanent isn’t a worthwhile exercise. Or at least perfecting this broken piece of my life.
In many ways, the goal of life is to be helpful — to be kind towards people around us in whatever way we can and to leave this world better than we found. Everything else good or bad, silly or serious, is just a distraction. And I’m still trying to be useful. Daily. Slowly. In steps. To the best possible level I can.
I also have learned a lot from this phase. It has made me more kind. More considerate of the pain of others. More considerate of my needs. More grateful for things I have in life. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that this experience has made me a far better human than what I was before.
If you are worried after reading this, don’t be — I have been taking professional help. I am (will be) fine (eventually). But I wanted to write and share. Perhaps, it might be useful to someone out there. Sometimes just knowing I am not the only one who faced this helps.