The Happy Days

Everybody talks about the bad days. They tell each other that everybody has them, that it’s okay to feel terrible, its okay to be angry sometimes. The days where nothing goes right are the days people are allowed to be sad. The general advice is :
•wear your favourite clothes
•eat ice cream
•cry
•dont go on social media
•watch your favourite movies
•read your favourite books etc.

The lists for how to survive bad days are uncountable, but how come nobody warns you about the happy days? The days where everything went right, but at the end of the day you still felt terrible. The happy days you couldn’t sleep . The happy days- when you’re supposed to be happy and you try your best but there’s this hollow pit in your stomach. The happy days when you just want to cry.

Nobody warns you that sadness is irrational. Nobody tells you how to take care of yourself when you come back from an amazing party where you enjoyed yourself, but the moment you’re alone there is a lump in your throats.
So these are for the happy days that still are terrible :
•wear your favourite clothes
•eat ice cream
•cry
•dont go on social media
•watch your favourite movies
•read your favourite books

Know that you’re allowed to feel sad for no reason. Know that sometimes, you can have days which had amazing moments but still made you feel like shit. Sadness is sometimes irrational. It’s alright to be sad. Just survive.

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This Is Not My Voice

Lately, my voice has
not been my own, my
inadequacy has been
the one speaking, and
there always seems
to be a lump in my
throat, I am choking.
Choking on air,
choking on life,
choking on me.

But I guess this is
how it works, right?
People move on,
people leave, people
don’t care, like you,
who doesn’t care
about my words.

So I guess this is
me saying I’m
drowning, me saying
I feel like I’m shouting
myself hoarse in an
empty desert, me
saying ‘sorry. I know
you want to leave, and
you can.’ This is me
wishing I could leave
myself behind.

Lately, my voice has
not been my own
and I have felt like
crying constantly.

Lately, I’ve been thinking
about people not
caring alot. I’ve been
thinking about him alot.
I’ve been wishing
for miracles for a
while, and this mind
of mine is driving me
to ruin and I just want
to survive, I just
want to live

So lately,
when my
inadequacy speaks,
I let it.

2015

I did this activity in class the other day, which was supposed to make you introspect or something along the same lines. One of the questions we were asked was ‘what did you regret in 2015 that you would not like to repeat in 2016’ and I couldn’t think of even one major event that took place that I wouldn’t want to relive; this feeling is something that sums up the year for me-

Because 2015 was the year
where I was myself, a
bit not okay, a bit
anxious, a bit of
bad and a lot of good.
I wouldn’t take back a
single moment; whether it
was the feeling I felt when
I talked to him, or the
crying I did in my room,
every second defined me.

2015 was when I nearly
gave up, but I didn’t; when
I nearly broke down, but
I didn’t; when I nearly
became yours, but I
didn’t. And that’s okay.

2015 was me setting
boundaries, was me
opening up, was me
surviving, and
according to me
I did a damn good job.

So here’s to 2016, which doesn’t need to be a new beginning. Instead, it can be the year I continue the work I did last year.
Happy new year to every one of you. It’s been a year since I made this blog and I never expected a hundred people to like this experiment enough to follow me. Thank you. You make me feel like I’m good at something and I’m so happy every one of you exist💜

Sorry for posting this late. I couldn’t sum up what the past year had been to me enough to write about it. I hope y’all enjoyed the first week of 2016.