Chapter 57 - Dear life, when will this end?

Dear life,

PTSD- Post-traumatic stress disorder, the term may simple, but the one, who suffers from it, is the only person who knows what and how bad it is. Every year, there are around 10 million cases of people suffering from PTSD in India, and yet, there is quite a handful of them who are aware.

Going through the trauma is itself torturous, and as if that is not enough, one has to carry forward the scars throughout their life in the form of panic attacks, flashbacks, nightmares, painful episodes, trust issues, communication problems, and whatnot. The severity and intensity of it can't be worded easily. It is tough, extremely tough. 

A child who didn't know the harsh ways of the world, who should have been enjoying her childhood without any worries, was subjected to something she shouldn't have. The age where one is hopping around happily, learning about new things, new places, was forced to spend her days in fear. Had I asked for that kind of life? Had I asked for a father, who never saw me as his daughter? For him, I was just bad luck. 

Growing up, the incident that had happened back then left a huge impact on me. I couldn't trust people easily. I couldn't believe anyone. I chose to stay quiet. I learned to hide my fears, but that doesn't mean I have overcome them. No, I haven't. My fears have also grown up with me. That's why I didn't want to marry. Nothing would have happened had I stuck to that. 

I should have explained Eshan about this in our first meeting. Maybe, I should have given him little idea about my problems. In my defense, I was shocked. I had never thought I would have any relationship in my life, least I had expected the marriage proposal. Yet, I agreed even though I should not have. Eshan had every right to know.

However, was I at fault for not being able to open up?

I don't know.

I tried. I shared things. Things that I never shared with anyone apart from my family on the second day of our marriage. I confided him with my fears, irrespective of being brief about them.

My mother's marriage went disastrous, and we both suffered the brunt of it. Still, she recovered. Maybe, because she was not subjected to the ill-treatment of another woman in her husband's life.

I often question myself. What was my fault?

I was the only child, a girl child. Was it that?

Was it because Grandpa made me the sole heir of his property after I was born?

I don't know.

Agreed, Eshan has been patient with me. He gave me enough time, and never pressurized me for anything. However, the secrets I kept hidden in my heart for more than eleven years needed more time to reveal themselves. Barely four months of knowing him, how could I share that period of my life?

If he had not been acting strange and secretive lately, the whole situation could have been avoided. 

He was hospitalized, and one who admitted him was his friend I have never met, I ignored. I found him in the flower shop with another girl, I ignored. I received his call, and that woman hung up after hearing my voice, I ignored. He came late and left early, I ignored. He behaved strangely, I ignored.

Just because I ignored that doesn't mean I didn't think about it. For more than one month, things kept piling up. My mind kept linking things with the past. Everything just added to my fears. I tried. I tried very hard to not let my fears control my thinking. I wanted to trust Eshan. I wanted to give him a chance to explain. I waited and I kept waiting until that day.

Had I not found them in each other's arms, it could have gone a different way. That scene rubbed me in the wrong way. It reminded me of how my father had held another woman who wasn't my mother in his arms, professing his love. I lost my composure. I lost my rationality.  

I know, I am the one to be blamed for the pain I caused to myself, Eshan, and Arjun. I am ashamed of my behavior, and I would do anything to rectify my doings, only if I knew where he is...

Is he not returning because he doesn't want to see me anymore? If that is the case, then I shall grant him this. I must leave this house and him. I don't know what to do. I don't want to leave him. If anything, I want to spend the rest of my life with him. In the short span of four months, the level of comfort he provided to me was something I never had with the opposite gender. 

He made me feel happy. He made me feel normal. He made me feel comfortable. But, I don't feel that anymore, all I feel is never-ending sadness.

I am tired of this. I feel depressed, and I am not sure how long I will be able to bear this pain. My heart aches for him, so do my soul.

Dear life, when will this end?

I'm tired.

I want to give up.

I want this pain to go away.

I want to feel peaceful, again.

But, I don't know if I deserve it.

-

Innaya

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Drops of water falling on the paper made ink on the paper turn blurry and spread in a circle. I wiped my tears away with the back of my palm. 

Unlike other times, I didn't burn this paper. Burning it would have made me feel emotionally lighter according to my experience, but I knew it wouldn't work this time. 

I closed the diary. Bringing my knees close to my chest, I kept my head on them. 

My eyes, greedily roamed around our bedroom that soon wouldn't be mine anymore. I made my decision while writing. I realized that Eshan's return was linked to my presence in his life. As long as I stayed here, he wouldn't be back.

What right I had to hinder him from his home? Only when I left from his life and Mumbai, he would return to his family and friends.

This was my last night, in the house which I had come to think of mine, but not anymore. The next day, I would take my leave and return to Bangalore.