After finishing twelfth grade, I left the
comforts of home and began a new chapter of my life. It has been more than
seven years since I've been living alone. The experience has been exciting,
empowering and also quite daunting at the same time.
Moving away from home is not easy.
Forcing oneself out of one's comfort zone and barging into the world of the
unknown is difficult. Despite some lows, I would say that my experience has
been pretty good and I do not have much to complain about. However, there are
times when stress and anxieties creep in and try breaking me down. "It's
alright," I say to myself. "This too shall pass. It is only a minor
setback in the grand scheme of things. In the end, all this just won't
matter," I continue to rationalize. There are days, however, when such
reassurances do not work. In those moments, I find myself tossing and turning,
thinking and re-thinking things over and over again. Sometimes, I feel that my
head will explode because of the never-ending eruptions of my thoughts. In
those moments, I wish I could just hit my mind's 'pause' button and decide to
run the world later but, unfortunately, not all wishes come true.
It is in such moments of insecurity that
I actually feel the pinch of being alone. Not having a support system is hard because it means I have no one to lift my spirits when I am
down. It means that I have no one to remind me that I am capable of handling
whatever craziness is tossed my way.
Being independent has its perks but it
also has its fair share of disadvantages. Nowadays, I feel that I am so used to
doing things on my own that I find it almost impossible to admit before another
person that I need help. It is becoming progressively more difficult for me to
even talk to people about what is going on in my life. Still, there are days
when I brave an attempt and actually ask a friend to meet. But meeting
impromptu in a city where everyone has so many priorities isn't a piece of
cake. Most of the time, these sudden plans never work out and I
find myself sinking deeper and deeper into the marsh of insecurities. These
days, I feel I am stuck so deep inside that I don't think I can be pulled out.
I am not sure if I even want to pull myself out. The marsh of insecurities, which
earlier felt so uncomfortable, gradually ceases to bother me. It now feels so
familiar that I embrace these insecurities as if they had always been a part of
me. Sometimes, I realize that I am being unreasonable but I feel it is alright - sometimes, one can be allowed to be unreasonable.
At one point of time, I needed encouragement.
I needed someone to tell me that I am a wonderful person. I needed to be
believed in - to be told that I am brave, smart and capable of accomplishing
all the dreams that I dare to dream and much more. I no longer need these
reminders because I am no more the person I used to be.
Things that earlier meant the world to
me, today, don't really mean much. People who I was, once, very close to now
feel as good as strangers. I still have a perpetual smile on my face but it
does not reach the eyes. Today, I am in better control of my emotions and,
unlike before, I do not allow feelings of anger, exasperation or despair to
show on my face.
Perhaps, this is what it means to be truly on one's own - when
you have no one to fall back on but yourself. You can be your harshest critic
but you can also be your best friend. After all, no one can really know you
better than you know yourself. We always find it easy to notice our shortcomings, but how many of us actually pat ourselves on the back when we feel we have done a good job? People can't be around all the time but you can always be there for yourself. It is tough but I believe it is possible. I have
now embarked on the journey of becoming my own best friend. When are you taking the step
towards becoming friends with your own self?