The Anatomy Of My Depression:

Should anyone, out of absurd mercy or with angelic sense of need, offer me death, I shall
accept it right this moment with little to no hesitation. And my offer shall stay until tomorrow and
the next day, next week, maybe the next month and then I don't know for how long.

That 'I don't know' is one of the major part of this seemingly huge mess that I've created. I say
seemingly because even I would know that it's my head playing on me, but I also say created
because I've lived with it too long, known it too consciously, and seen it too vividly for it be just a
lie. However, the uncertainty around when it'd end, if it'd end at all, or how it even began to get
so huge, if it's even that huge, is both frustrating and highly uncomfortable.

From what I can say or think out of my terribly tangled thoughts or thinking process, it's that it's
like a half bubble that shapes around my upper brain. It's light at the sides, but it frowns my
forehead and intensifies in the middle. Some three fingers above my ears, on both sides, this
sort of shield creates and remains there as I get more and more anxious and frustrated. It's hard
to think out of it both literally and figuratively. I can't think of anything else because I'm too
messed up in it and I'm blocked; I can't then have normal thoughts because I feel the headache.

Currently, I'm ashamed of myself in regards of making such a huge mess this time around. Why
couldn't I just pass it off like last time, unannouncedly? I've worried people, way more than I did
last time - and we've reached nowhere yet and to get somewhere I'm getting highly impatient;
I've been too cowardly, way more than last time and thus I've lost the self confidence and
esteem that I had for me; I've been too much cared for, way more than last time and it's made
more dependable, given my mind more room to play sick and to worsen things further.

Thinking about it from anyone's view, which sharply hits my mind and ego from time to time, to
skip studies because of loneliness, homesickness and to have depression where no particular
reason seems valid enough and suffering and making others suffer because of it - is just awfully
absurd and punishably unacceptable. Any sane person wouldn't have it - most of all myself. It's
me who is under constant torture and scorn of myself. My mind allows not even a single glimpse
of kindness, love or escape from such punishable, irreversible acts I've done. This stubbornly
allows no way for improvement, for getting out of the mess I've created, or for giving myself a
chance to try, to live again even when I've performed the worst under recent circumstances.

Then comes the part where my abilities of identification goes off completely and instead sets the
fear of being a total fake. Am I faking it? Have I been faking it all this long? Never did I have a
clue that it'd get so much worse when I'd get to Islamabad again, then how come it got so? Did
my mind, in the process of wanting to get out of the environment, university, hostel, loneliness,
made up this huge drama because it wasn't man enough to decide to leave for itself? Although it
knew all the time that something, something unfavorable, had to happen as a result of such
chaos it was involved into making, it nevertheless continued, not caring about Ejaz or what he'd
go through in the start, in the middle which is now, and in the future, that is to come.
But even if it was an evil trick played by the mind, why is not satisfied now that a crisis has
fallen, my semester is to be freezed and I'm no longer in Islamabad? Why does peace still seem
so lost, so un-born and unavailable? Maybe my mind, or let's call it the evil side of me (tesom)
didn't want a specific thing as freezing my semester of getting me out of Islamabad and near to
my brother in Karachi; tesom had something worse in mind, something it can never kill until I'm
under its control - it wants chaos, stomach-aching uneasiness, repetitive indecisiveness,
self-loathe and zero self-esteem, and for things to get worse even when it seems the worst has
happened. Because tesom has been supported by its fellows: loneliness, negative thoughts,
ungratefulness, hate, pride and low self-esteem, it grew stronger, got control because it was
heard to every time and made itself the most evident, powerful and decisive part of me; it made
my perspectives, controlled how I acted and disabled me of any good that I was.

But somewhere underneath, probably buried by now, there is a hurt, broken, defeated, unheard,
silent, yet nevertheless alive normal side me of, or let's call it the good side of me (tgsom). It is
and was aware of Ejaz's all shortcomings and of his different than most personality traits as
well, but the effects of it never got so bitter that it called for depression or anxiety or panic
attacks. They were normal just like they should be, just like it is for everyone else. They didn't
suddenly grow to become the gigantic Gilaeth as told by Dickinson, nor did they shrink Ejaz as
timid as David, and so unkindly that he was to be constantly overwhelmed and overpowered by
them. Actually, tgsom mostly kept them in the background, making peace with some, while
unactively working on some to be eliminated, and targeted all focus and energy of the positive
things, things that kept a balance, brought inner peace, and kept lasting company. Though we
got sad, tgsom and I, by little number of achievement, by the lack of delicacies while talking,
attractiveness and warmth, though pretendful, ways of meeting people, by being mostly sad
than happy, by finding us mostly lonely and misunderstood - but tgsom managed to remind me
of the brighter sides, of a better future, of hopeful dreams and of the things that made me
genuinely happy and peaceful.

Tesom and tgsom are both me which says that I am capable of living both the lifestyles. But as I
fight, whatever this is, a state of mind, depression, anxiety, some real disease, a call for therapy
and understanding myself, a call for someone else to understand me and assure me, a fear for
tomorrow in tiniest details, or regrets from past with mental tortures, or being confused and living
confused of what I've messed up and how is this all going to fall back to its place; and even if I
get back to normal, the fear that people near me now would start mocking me, reminding me of
my silly mistakes, or perhaps a habitual state of being out of which I can't think of start living -
I'm not happy, I'm not at peace. And all I ask is peace and a normal state of living. Yet under
these circumstances, my mind under the depression bubble, can't imagine how it would get
normal. But the logic says it would, however the fear says it might continue forever. Where am I
amongst these? Where is tgsom? I don't know. But I might know this...

Death is no doubt a sudden, quick, and ultimate solution to not just depression, or whatever I'm
being through, but to all problems in the world. But I can't know for sure if anyone else would
like to die to get away from their problems. However, I will. I damn will. Give me cancer, heart
attack, accident, death in my sleep, or any quick, not too painful death, and in return, you could
take my health or whatever. I'm talking as if such bargains are made - but life for me, a 21 year
old with nothing, no wife, no children, a worried family, probably nothing that could stop me to
accept death or hesitate even. But I might well know that it wouldn't end this way, or would it?
Or maybe I'm so keen about it ending that it may never actually end all that suddenly.