Before you judge all the drug-addled, sorrow-driven, grief-stricken “junkies” out there, let us take a moment to analyze why they have reached the point where they are.
Some of you, most of you rather would say that they’re what society terms as “losers” because they can’t take what life throws at them and require assistance in handling themselves, leading to them experimenting with narcotics and finding a sickening solace in it, completely unjustified and horribly twisted in its conceptions.
You might attribute this to substance abuse considering the fact that they’re dependent on it to get them through the day. It’s either that, or they’re just party-ravers who’re looking for kicks.
But have you ever taken a moment to think why they do what they do? Have you ever taken a moment to think, as to what could have led to this scenery?
Society has pushed them to the limit that they can’t deal with things sober anymore. They’re so tired of being fucked over by whatever happens in their environment that all they seek is an escape from reality. Sobriety feels like a curse. Inebriation is comfort.
And as we proceed, to smoke weed, drink Henny, pop pills, snort lines, inject shit through our veins, we shall brush aside society’s expectations and its menacing presence from our daily lives.
Ignorance is bliss.
What is depression? The dictionary says that it’s a mood disorder causing a persistent feeling of sadness and loss of interest.
Depression has been a major game changer for a lot of lives. For example, let us look at Robin Williams. Hailed as one of the most hilarious comedians of all time, Mr. Williams was suffering from a severe case of depression. In fact, things were so bad for him, that he ended up committing suicide just to escape from it.
But to me, it isn’t what it is to most people. Depression is like an old friend. Kinda like Death was to Ignotus Peverell.
Once I got over the initial reluctance of getting acquainted with it, I found a beautiful solace in it. It never judged me for who I was or what I did. It never left me like those short moments of happiness did, as soon as something went wrong. It always came back, like a loving guardian, to hold me close to its chest and sing me songs that’d comfort me. The music would drown out the screams of pain and heartbreak. Serenity would prevail over my senses, in that small, peaceful space of mine.
And in that darkness, in that pitch black lonely street, I found something that I’d never thought I would. I found wings in depression. They’d let me soar up in the dark night, never letting go of me. I’d fly for hours on end, not caring what happened to me or where I went. Not caring about anything anymore.
I’d found what I truly desired. This was my identity. This was my solace. These wings would never let me drown in the Bermuda Triangle of love again. And I flew. Up, up and away.
I don’t usually do this but I feel that I’ve hit a place where I really need to vent out what I’ve had on my mind since a really long time. Why do people lie? To cover their asses? To make sure that the world doesn’t get to know what kind of a heinous monster they really are? Or is it something so fundamentally human, that no person can escape it? I’ve said my fair share of lies to people. A bit too many, actually. I’ve lost track of what I’ve said to whom. But the biggest mistake is saying that first lie. That first lie, which leads to the second, then to the third and before you know it you’re neck-deep in a pool full of lies. I just lost the person who mattered the most to me because of this habit of lying. We were supposed to complete 8 months on the 15th of July, but now, she can’t even stand the sight of me. Which is justified. She took my shit for almost 8 months, stood by me when I had no one and then some, and I fucking kept on lying to her. It’s not until you lose someone that you realize the cost of losing them. I probably just fucked up the best thing that ever fucking happened to me. I deserve it, yes. But maybe it’s better this way. Maybe, if I stay the fuck away, she’ll finally be happy. She’ll know what happiness means, and she won’t have to put up with a lying cheat to get to know that either. She’ll be happy. Even if that comes at the cost of my sanity. Because that’s all I want, really. Her happiness. Nothing else would make me happier than her happiness. But then, how am I gonna be okay? I love her, and I’m gonna change myself. But it isn’t gonna be for her. I’m gonna change for myself. I’m gonna become a better person. Maybe she’ll come back, maybe she won’t. Only time will tell. I really hope she does. This? This is gonna be my first step towards redemption. After all, it’s better to go down with a fight, right?
A beach. A pet wolf. A cottage. Sunlight. Warmth. The man laughed at these thoughts now. He laughed at his naivety. How could he have been so blind before? He woke up from his deep slumber and opened his eyes to the monstrosity of the light. You see, the thing about the light is that it isn’t permanent. It flickers. It goes off. Sometimes, you don’t find it for years on end. And when you do, it’s gone just as soon. But darkness. That is a constant.
The man was standing at the entrance to the maze again, which was mocking him for his foolishness.
“She tricked you, my child. The serenity was short-lived. Pain is how you have persevered and how you will till the end of your days. It’s the only way that anyone can maintain a stable mindset in this m.A.A.d city. Come back. Come back to your haven. Come back to your old self, the one that you so cherished.”
How could he have been so blind? The cold, fake, appealing nature of the light was what drew him out, not the sincerity of it. The maze was an old friend that wanted to put an end to his misery, that was all. The maze was the only constant which had truly stuck with him throughout his life.
But. He hesitated to go back to the maze.
Somehow, after all he had been through, after all the time that he had spent with the light, after all the times that he had indeed made mistakes and been ignorant enough to correct them, he didn’t want to go back to the maze. He wanted to redeem himself. He wanted one last shot at getting back that which was his. He wanted his serenity back, however fake it might have been. So he mustered his courage and tried to approach the light. But it was too late. She had given up on him. She couldn’t stand the sight of this pathetic creature. She abandoned him, and left him for naught.
Broken, of heart and in spirit, the man entered the maze without giving it a second thought. The darkness spoke to him with a kindness which he had long forgotten. It said, “Welcome home, my child. You’ve been away for far too long, chasing distant dreams. It’s time that you returned.”
Upon entering the maze, the man lost his footing and plunged into a deep abyss. He didn’t care anymore. He closed his eyes and thought about a poem he’d heard on the radio the other day, an eerie calmness spreading all over his face.
“I remembered you was conflicted,
Misusing your influence, sometimes I did the same;
Abusing my power, full of resentment.
Resentment that turned into a deep depression.
Found myself screamin’ in a hotel room,
I didn’t wanna self destruct, the evils of Lucy was all around me.
So I went runnin’ for answers.”
His lips curled into a smile. He was tired of running now. He’d come back home. And he wasn’t leaving anytime soon.
The darkness of the maze. That was his haven. He had been thrown there by the agents of light, cast out, defeated. In the dark he learned to live. To survive. A time came when it was all he would crave. The darkness, the pain. But there came a light source at the end of the tunnel. He reached out to it. He was fascinated by it. For some time, he even let himself enjoy it. Fill him up with happiness and joy. But this time it wasn’t the light that sent him back to the maze. It was darkness that pulled him back in. You see, light had given up on him. He constantly kept on ranting about the dark. Light abandoned him this time for good. And he went back to his old merry self, in the dark, to the pain that held out her hands like a loving mother, to self squander, to his plight from the myth of love. Because he had loved when love hurt and when he got love, he never could appreciate it. So he went back to his demons. And they took hold of him this time, never to let go.
But he was wrong. See, it was light that he craved. That he loved. That darkness was just an easy escape for him. But this time, he did it. He crawled out of that maze. He went to the light. He reached the source and he reached for it. At first, light hesitated. For he had betrayed its trust many a time. But this time around, it was different. He finally appreciated its true worth. He had been too broken before to see that love could heal all his wounds. And so, he fell into those hands again. But this time, he shunned the pain. He abandoned the maze for the warmth and the comfort of the light. And this time, light, like the lover he never had before, took him into her arms and slowly lulled him off into a deep sleep, which he didn’t want to wake up from. For this sleep brought him dreams. Dreams of a little cottage on a secluded beach, with a pet wolf and nothing but the smell of the sea, the warmth of the sun and his source of life.
He thrived off these dreams. He loved light. And light took him in her arms this time and loved him more than she ever did before, as serenity reigned supreme over their senses.
To Vulcan and beyond.