How Anxiety Feels as a Teenager in India
The Manisha/Shahpura lake of Bhopal. Photo credit: Pratigya
Dear Anxiety,
If I could say three words to you, I would undoubtedly say 'please stop'. You silently laugh that I can't count but honestly I'm too tired to give a second thought to something that's been on my mind for far too long now. I've been meaning to say this for quite sometime, or maybe since the day we started and I was scared to say this until now, but I don't think this is working out.
Pratigya
I think we need to part so you might as well find another host to feed upon. You seemed nice in the beginning; you taught me things that I could not have managed learning on my own, but now I want to do this alone. And oh yeah, I do have to appreciate how you pointed out to me that enjoying one's own company is good for a change; but I see through you, you wanted to keep me all to yourself, didn't you? Funny how not too long ago I used to laugh at girls who could not see that they were clearly being used, and now life has come a full circle and I silently curse myself to have been so blind to see that ours was never a fair truce.
The Manisha/Shahpura lake, here in Bhopal. Photo credit: Pratigya
So please, dear anxiety, just stop. Stop messing with my head so much. Stop interfering in matters that have no need for you. Stop sneaking up on me on random days and whispering 'hello'. Stop dragging me down into lanes where you and your friends hang out. Stop using me like your personal ruse.
You've done more than enough, so much so that I have forgotten where the line used to be. You've succeeded in your plan and thrown me off my feet. You've pushed me into alleyways that I don't recognize. You've turned me into a being that's more of a monster and less of a human. Like a skilled puppeteer you've fooled me into destroying myself such that I'm the only one left who can be blamed and chastised.
So, tonight, not for the first time but surely for the last I order you to leave because I've finally come to accept a long known fact, that it's you and not me.
(Not) Yours (anymore),
T.Q.M.
Pratigya is a 19-year-old undergrad commerce student in Bhopal, Madhya Pradesh in India. She originally published this post on Medium.
This is where Pratigya lives.