Musings

4. Phobia.

Her friends said she was strong.
In actuality, she was terrified.

She was scared beyond measure of several things. When she opened up, people even told her she took the word 'scared' for granted. Most of the things she was afraid of shouldn't have mattered to a soul who's purpose was, for a while now, to study and excel at everything. Irrespective of social relations.

She was scared of being unsatisfactory. Not good enough. She hated herself in moments where her performance was not what she wanted it to be. It didn't help that her emotions were always magnified and what began as sadness eventually lead on till absolute worthlessness and self-loathing.

This was the side of her very few knew of, let alone saw. And usually, when people saw you like this, they left you. So she was scared of losing people. She thought she was a freak when these bursts of emotions came.
She thought she was undeserving of any affection, that all her interactions with people were because of pity and that nobody ever cared.

She felt alone. She remembered all the mistakes she'd made, all the people that had left her and doubted the legitimacy of everything in her life.

She'd stare into space, thinking, crying and silently screaming. Her thoughts would drown everything out and she'd float through nothingness, void of all hope, feeling an emotional ache so intense it seemed physical.

Nothing was solace. Nothing soothed. Everything seemed traitorous. Betrayal was the flavor of the nights that she would face her demons. She was scared. So scared. She didn't know. She cried. She pulled at her hair.

She hated herself. She knew she deserved this punishment. She cared too much. She trusted too much. She felt too much. She didn't know.

Alessia would stare desperately at her hands. She'd watch them tremble. She'd laugh bitterly - "How pathetic I am..."
For her, release was either absolute rage or absolute depression. And rage stopped working when she realized she was leaving scars. She didn't want to hurt anyone.

They could never know the depth of Alesia's sadness. They'd never understand. She felt sick. She wanted pain, physical pain - to take her mind off the thoughts that raced through her head. But she never did anything.

She thought she was a coward for hanging on. She hated sentimentality. She could never give up. She knew that the universe was a hard taskmaster.

"Maybe some day...", she'd sigh.

But she knew that she could never take the plunge. She'd lose the little pride she had in herself for staying strong.

After these episodes, Alessia would smile. And then, she'd think- maybe, just maybe, she was a warrior after all.