Recovering from a trauma

My heart was again exploding. In the middle of night, I felt like my heart sinking in the unknowns. Any amount of thinking was leading me to a doomed state of mind. My thoughts taking me back to the nice times before it was called off. Sincerely, I had inkling before it happened, but never thought it will affect me like this. From my earlier experiences, I tried to mellow down to usurp the negativity from other side; I was least aware that dealing with a cold heart is like meeting your extreme nightmare in person. Due to constant onslaught from other areas in life, my tears have long been dried - so, weeping wasn't an option to plummet my utter sadness. Mind, by now, had become a servant to feelings and was playing through all sort of suicidal tendencies. May be unavailability of resources and my vertigo didn't let my mind completely surrender to my feelings.

Surrounded by this mental abduction, I could hardly sleep that night. Next day, I was still under the shroud of this unending trauma and I could hardly connect with the world around. So deeply engrossed I was to my mental illness that I slept for the longest duration in a day without any physical illness. Thanks to my local guardians, I could eat in-between, which I did with my brain failing to recognize the taste of the food. Some pep talk from a good friend also sprinkled momentary booster to my spirit. The feeling was still not dying away and I still felt like “God, why me?”. To take control of the situation, the following day, I went to a local bar and sloshed myself with intoxicated drinks. This was followed by some more drinks at a friend’s place. I just wished that intoxication to flush out my grey feelings once and for all. Sure – I felt lighter, and in 3 days had the best sleep. Mind is stronger than any external factor, when it wants to, and unfortunately so when it shouldn't; it brought back those suspended feelings back into the driver seat. This time, though, I gave a friendly cry to the mind and tried getting the better of my psyche. I had to; otherwise, I would have gone into an addiction mode for intoxication, which my logical mind never found suitable.

I messaged this person, with a last attempt to explain this sudden and insincere conduct, and as expected, received an abusing response. Boom! My sadness and my soft core converted into deep angst and a rough textured core, heated by this cold, cruel and unfair conduct. Must be in my guts that, whenever I see fairness in deficit and presented in an ugly manner, I always go against it, no matter who and what. This trick had my wits swung back into action and flung a message back to show my anger and humility at the same time. I tried to bury my utter sadness with that one stroke; however, anger is no one's friend, not even Lord Shiva's.

Though I was angry, but my mind reeled back in those lovely moments of retrospection, again and again. The feeling of losing a loved one was swirling over my mind. Upon this, I consulted one of my teachers, after a week of retrospection and introspection. Meditation and deep inhale/exhale. Yoga is alive for "yugas" (ages) for no small reason. It is for reader to make out the meaning from it.

I don’t know if you would worth about sharing this incident with you all – I just wanted you to understand the effort it takes to come out of the reeling and killing effects of a broken road, that was illusive and misleading from the beginning - like a mirage. I also take a vow to keep my story-like paragraph writing alive by sharing my experiences from everyday’s life on a regular frequency.  Nice!