I have vivid memories of the summer of 2007. It was the rainiest summer I'd ever known. It rained every day and my memories of that summer are soaked in total and palpable misery. I also remember I was looking for a job in marketing/PR and nobody would give me a chance because I didn't have the relevant experience in the UK. I was so sad, I cried tears of desperation every day and didn't think the sun would ever come up again. But it did. An opportunity presented itself and I got a job through a recommendation.
The summer of 2012 reminds me a lot of the summer of 2007. I don't remember having been so sad for so long in a very long time. I think it's safe to say I suffer from controlled depression. Controlled because I know its symptoms, I see it happening to me and I watch it from an observation point inside of me. Sometimes it looks like a gremlin which walks by my side. Sometimes he's holding on to my hand and the more I struggle to free myself, the more he thrusts his claws in my skin and doesn't want to let go. Sometimes he's not there and I can almost feel myself returning to normal, thinking it was all just a bad dream and that the sun is out and everything is all good again. Until he comes back, but every time feebler and thinner than the previous time. I'm not afraid of him anymore, I just don't like how he makes me feel about things. Nothing has flavour anymore, I am struggling to enjoy the things I used to love, I go out and surround myself with people despite that all I really want to do is isolate myself from everyone and hide under the duvet, I feel lonely and apathetic to almost everything around me. I miss having a zest for life. I miss being enthusiastic and excited about things. And that's what he's been doing to me.
But as always, writing is the only thing that keeps me grounded. I write, no matter what, knowing one day the sun will have to come up. I believe my mind and my body are trying to tell me something. That something's wrong, that I've changed, that I want other things, that I have to keep moving, keep exploring, keep living, keep being curious and different and defiant. And also that sometimes to be strong means standing still and waiting for the sun to come out all by itself. Hold hands with my gremlin and allow him to become thinner and feebler until there's nothing left of him but a memory... A reminiscence of the summer of 2012. When it rained a lot and I cried a lot...
The summer of 2012 reminds me a lot of the summer of 2007. I don't remember having been so sad for so long in a very long time. I think it's safe to say I suffer from controlled depression. Controlled because I know its symptoms, I see it happening to me and I watch it from an observation point inside of me. Sometimes it looks like a gremlin which walks by my side. Sometimes he's holding on to my hand and the more I struggle to free myself, the more he thrusts his claws in my skin and doesn't want to let go. Sometimes he's not there and I can almost feel myself returning to normal, thinking it was all just a bad dream and that the sun is out and everything is all good again. Until he comes back, but every time feebler and thinner than the previous time. I'm not afraid of him anymore, I just don't like how he makes me feel about things. Nothing has flavour anymore, I am struggling to enjoy the things I used to love, I go out and surround myself with people despite that all I really want to do is isolate myself from everyone and hide under the duvet, I feel lonely and apathetic to almost everything around me. I miss having a zest for life. I miss being enthusiastic and excited about things. And that's what he's been doing to me.
But as always, writing is the only thing that keeps me grounded. I write, no matter what, knowing one day the sun will have to come up. I believe my mind and my body are trying to tell me something. That something's wrong, that I've changed, that I want other things, that I have to keep moving, keep exploring, keep living, keep being curious and different and defiant. And also that sometimes to be strong means standing still and waiting for the sun to come out all by itself. Hold hands with my gremlin and allow him to become thinner and feebler until there's nothing left of him but a memory... A reminiscence of the summer of 2012. When it rained a lot and I cried a lot...
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