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“Hey there, long time no see!” she says.
“Hey! Been forever since I saw you!” I replied.
“How are you Diya?” she inquired.
Well, I am not doing too great. I feel extremely exhausted for no reason. I think it’s because of the lack of sleep or maybe the overload in work. I feel a bit empty too, even though I am surrounded by the ones I love but I can’t feel their warmth per se. My mind is constantly blank, I cannot work out simple things anymore. My memory well- better not go there. I don’t remember the names of things I constantly used to be exposed to, it takes a while to get the rusty brain working, I guess.
Food I used to like now I hate. A person who used to live to eat has now become someone who eats to live. Chocolates and Ice Cream are the only things I look forward to now. The rest of it doesn’t provide me with the short-term feel-good effect anymore. Sleep I struggle with, the dreams I dream about keep me awake, the thoughts I think about keep me awake, the what-ifs keep me awake, the constant negative statements keep me awake. I keep myself awake, but at the same time, I try my best to sleep. Because when I sleep the reality pains me no more.
I have soo much work to complete but soo little energy. It’s not like I tire myself every day but still, I cannot pick myself up and get work done. I don’t know why I feel this way or when I started losing myself to become this person I don’t know. Well, I think I know what lead me here, but I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to come to terms with it. I cry myself to sleep most days, but people don’t know that. I like it that way. If they know they will call me weak. Think of me weak. But little do they know how strong I am, to continue with all this pain and try to get myself through this. When I heard of a friend cutting herself, I couldn’t understand why. Why would you hurt yourself on purpose? But now I understand.
People still don’t notice that my old self disappeared or maybe it’s because I don’t want them to notice. I smile, while deep inside I am paining. I smile while deep inside I am fighting demons they don’t know of. I smile while fighting myself to live. I smile while trying to be happy again.
“I am doing fine! How are you and your family?” I ask while smiling.
I am fine is all I say. Because they won’t understand me, and nor would they believe me. It’s too much of feeling to explain.
“Oh, I am doing better than ever. Mama, papa and mo are doing all fine.” She exclaimed.
All I could wonder is if she was being honest with me. Is she actually fine?
I would like to end by asking you, how are you?