A Glimpse Into The Day Of An Overthinker Living With Anxiety

By Shivani Tandel

Blackness. Breathlessness. The feeling that death is near. Then nothing. And then I am back. Another one in how many days? God it’s getting exhausting. When will I be able to escape these attacks? I release a huge, tired sigh as I look around my room. The familiar purple walls with water stains from when I towel-dried my hair. My sister got annoyed with me for that. I remember when I put forward my opinion to paint the walls of our room blue. Yes, “OUR” room. I know, I know, it is a bit difficult to understand that how can two grown girls share a room, but it is very common in a salaried Indian household. As for anxiety attacks, I think they are fairly common in any type of household anywhere around the world. For me, they started in my second year of college during the university exams. As far as I know, that was the first time I experienced an anxiety attack. It’s been seven years now and they have become more frequent and worse. Frankly, when I first got one I did not even know what it was, I just knew that something unfamiliar and different happened and for a few minutes there I felt lost and helpless, as if my body and emotions were not in my control. I wanted to shout for help but couldn’t.  My train of thought partially ends as I watch the sunlight start to streak the indigo sky. I kept the curtains open partly at night because I wanted to fall asleep watching the stars and the moon. It’s dawn now, the sun is rising and washing away the darkness of the night with its bright light. But can those rays reach inside me and chase away the darkness there? I release another deep sigh and think how another night went by with me not being able to get enough restful sleep. It’s been a month now and I am tired in every sense – mentally, physically, emotionally. I am not sure how I am even getting by the day with this routine. But somehow, I am. With that in mind, I drag my body up to get ready to battle another day. I sound too depressed right now, don’t I? I think that is the curse for some of my generation. We are all depressed in some way or another. 

I believe that’s because we became the turning point of change for society. Anyway, for me, it all began when I started to understand, really understand, what all adulthood is really about. And I realized how everyone is just pretending. Pretending to love their jobs, their spouses, their lives, their friends, their families, and even their pets. And I am tired of this pretentious nature of nearly all human beings. I am not able to accept it and I am not able to fit in. That is another thing that worries me, I do not fit in anywhere. I might seem like or pretend to really gel with people around me but nobody would know how much effort goes into me doing that, how I am dying inside bit by bit every day. Nobody would even be able to comprehend the depth of darkness inside me. I wonder how long I can uphold the facade I have been putting on for so long. With these thoughts in mind, I somehow follow my morning routine and get ready for work. And yes, by work, I really mean going to the office. I started this new job in my town a couple of months ago and let’s just say it took me a lot of time to adjust to my new surroundings. Like a LOT of time. And this was because I was working from home and cut out from the world for the better part of a year, like I had no contact with a stranger except my family. So yes, maybe it warped my perspective a bit or maybe it finally made me realize a few harsh truths about life and the world in general.

Anyway, back to the present, I pack my lunch, wash the dishes, and collect my bag to head to the office. The office is a nice place. There are all different kinds of people here with all different kinds of mentality. They are pretty nice, I think. But of course, in the back of my mind, I am thinking that they all hate me. But trust me when I say that me thinking all these things are a lot toned down now, a LOT. But the office is still a pretty good place to be. I meet people, I talk to them, there is even a guy here I have a crush on, he is so cute and nice. 

But that brings me to another point. I am afraid of commitments because of my trust issues. And I fear that the other person would think I am too sad and wouldn’t be able to live happily with me forever. So I try to stay away from them, both for their and my sake.

Anyway, I get by the day in my auto mode, come back home after spending 8-9 hours at the office. Spending because work has been light lately. Honestly, I wonder why the company even hired me. Anyway, I come back home, eat the dinner my mother cooked, do the dishes, watch some movie or series, try to read a book, and try to go to sleep, afraid of the world that appears when my eyes close. 

And there it goes again, my mind, refusing to shut down no matter how hard I try. And so I stare listlessly at the streetlight-dappled wall of my room, the dark and the light, mingling together on that purple wall and succumb to my thoughts. I wonder about how my family of four is close yet so distant. Of how I am unable to fully be open to my parents and sister about the attacks I am having. Because although technological advancements have made communicating with people easy, at the same time, it still hasn’t eradicated the possibility of misunderstandings, or maybe even increased it by some margin. So, although we talk, we don’t have real deep conversations. And maybe not everyone in this world has it, or maybe rarely people have real conversations with their loved ones. So it makes me wonder how the rest of the world is getting by without it. And I wish I was as oblivious to all of it as everyone seems to be. And that brings me to the thought of writing a book that talks about all these things. That how we all live life in pretense, all the damn time. I want my thoughts on this subject to reach people who might think the same way and to awaken the people who don’t. And that is not to say that I might be completely right but I believe that the way we live life has to be a bit genuine. Because no problem disappears or become alright after the clock strikes 00:00. That’s just what we instill in ourselves to get troubled less with the harsh realities of life. I want my book to make a difference. I have always wanted that for as far as I can remember. But instead, I am stuck in this unending loop I am unable to break free from. I feel like a lab rat running on wheels. 

I’ve also always wanted to write a book about love. Or more of a book about a love story, and if possible, my love story. But for some reason I never really got to experience it, at least every experience was a one-sided affection and those become overrated after a while. It’s been so long since I have felt empty, so long since I have felt as if I am not heard, so long since I have felt important to someone, important to them above all else. I have always, always felt like a second choice in everybody’s life. All I want is for someone to put me first, to think about me above all else. Is it that hard to achieve? I guess it is. Anyway, I don’t care about that right now. And that makes me wonder if I say and write “I don’t care” enough times, would it become true. Does that ever work? Saying and writing things you want to happen, even believing that they will happen, does that actually make it happen? I guess maybe it does for some people, but not for people like me. 

And this is how I drift off to sleep, with my trailing thoughts about life, love, people, and the world in general. But does sleep consumes me? Does it engulf me in its warm embrace? Do I finally find peace? 

By Shivani Tandel