The One Who Is Barely Holding On.




Understand. And love.

We’re here. And we care.


How are you supposed to wake up and get on with stuff normal people do when you feel suicidal?

How do you fill your stomach with food when your soul feels empty?

How do you laugh when you don’t feel happy?

How do you cry when you don’t feel pain anymore? When you’re not sad anymore?

How do you give love when you’re so empty to the point that you’ve nothing left to give for yourself, let alone anyone else?

How do you wake up every morning thinking, “Today things might be different” when it has been just the same for years?

How can you be hopeful when you don’t have anything or anyone to hope for, and all you’ve faced so far in your life is disappointment and discontent, a lack of anything and everything?

I put on a happy smile for my parents because I know I’ve hurt them enough. I’ve done enough harm and pain to two individuals who have given me nothing but care and love. Who wanted nothing but the best for me.

I’m alive today because I do not want to put them through the loss of a child, their first one. I swallow everything and I hold it in.

I try to bury it so deep that not an inch of it shows on my face or in front of anyone else. I sometimes tend to forget though that this is the case. But who the fuck am I kidding here three people already know what I go through in a week. And a bunch of others elsewhere but they’re at a place that doesn’t really matter anymore. I’ll try and get through this for my parents, for my siblings because I don’t want them to have an elder brother who chickened out and did not want to live.

I’ll cut myself just to cover it up and I’ll eat something to make myself believe that it fills me. I’ll laugh to try and project that I’m happy. I’ll be sad to prove that I can still feel and I’ll get up and go to college in the morning to make them feel and think that everything’s okay.

That I’m just like them.

That I’m a human who can feel and isn’t empty and numb inside.

Maybe someday I’ll believe that myself. Weirdly, I do not know whether I dread that day or I’ll glad because fucking hell, I’ve started to like this dark hole I’m falling into…deeper and deeper.




Author: Aitijya Sarkar

You know that bright little star next to the moon? The one you've never really noticed for some reason. That's me.

One thought on “The One Who Is Barely Holding On.”

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