Deeper reason for suicide

Suicide:years long process

Here’s a story on suicide which you have heard, i have heard and all have heard before.Let’s go a bit deeper,let’s hear them a bit carefully.

He is about 7 years old:just starting to understand things.He is average in study but with a sibling who is extraordinarily talented(in study).He has been hearing that he is poor in academics(he is not poor but average)and needs to follow his sibling.He is habituated to get compared to others who are better than him. Upps…!I forgot to mention that he is a very good painter(he plays so good with colors that it adds life to every image he paints).

Since he has been listening about his fake failure stories(which is not true),he believes that he really is not good and that belief takes a blink to turn into reality.The first line of anxiety was drawn by his parents (followed by relatives)when they blamed him when he could not score better than someone else’s child(his friend).That small line was ignored in that small age.

He always wanted to become a painter.After he passed SLC he was admitted to a science college(which was never his priority).He wanted to take arts but that was unacceptable by his parents who wanted to make him a doctor.The textbooks and notes and exams reduced half his weight,sucked half his happiness.He passed it anyway.Another line was drawn then,a bit bold this time.It was again ignored.

He loved how his friends were with him through thick and thins.But with the passage of time they changed,he was isolated again.He lost trust in friendship.Another line was added here which was ignored as before.

Now he believed that he was good for nothing.He joined a medical college.There he fell in love with a girl.They broke up due to some unreasonable reasons.Heartbreak created another line ,deeper this time.He spent days and nights in the dark room,isolated himself from the society.He smoked in :the pain,he drank it with alcohol.He lost his smile.They knew he was depressed but it seemed shameful to take him to doctor.He needed doctor,all they gave was consolation.

Now he’s a medical student.A one with broken heart and broken smile.He lastly attempted suicide.They said that it was because of a girl and study pressure which is true but not true.His lines are not the marks made by just a single incidence,it is a lifelong trademark of his experiences.So let’s not judge his mental condition in a glance.Let’s not tell him to stop overthinking or stop being pessimistic.Honestly we are not doctors.If you really want to help that boy then take him to the doctor,the professionals.They will medicate him.Your sharp words that always reminds him that he is depressed might be growing his line of anxiety instead of healing him.

Actually he looks normal.He jokes,he laughs,he has ambitions,he is active socially.But deep down his line still exists.The line are only hidden by his fame and success stories but not erased at all.So when the cover is tore he will explode again.It is such a shame how easily we judge anyone or make a joke on them.Next time if you see him :don’t tell him to stop overthinking.No that’s not the way you heal people like him.Treat him with love and take him to professionals if you think he’s depressed.If not then do not tell him that he is this and that because we all know that the medical guy is the murdered painter who could have become another Leonardo Da Vinci(better than any of us).He is better than any one of you(he might be one of you).He is a fighter more courageous than any of us.

lady with fire

Your child should not kill you.(A talk on pregnancy)

I saw a huge gathering of people(so called social animals),i heard few heart rendering cries,i noticed her body (it was dead),her life was gone.It ended with pain so devastating (i clearly saw that in every inch of her face and her body).She hung herself on the ceiling fan or she cut her wrist with a sharp blade/knife or she swallowed some easily available poison(which she brought from shop few yards from her door).She is none other than a lady who committed suicide in your locality.(post mortem revealed that she had a 3/4/5 months baby in her womb).

Demons exists

I remember i was about 6 years old.I could never find the difference on being a daughter and not being a son of my parents as me and my brother were always treated equally by my family.To be the youngest member of the family more often felt like a blessing where my mistakes were laughed at and forgiven easily.I was always carefree and happy and childish unless that day came.

Red part : 3

“How are you feeling miss Manishaa?”………..

I looked up to see a young ,beautiful, smiling lady in sky blue typical nurse’s uniform standing  beside me.

My journey to heaven

The worst feeling in the world is the feeling of being unwanted and unloved.For some reason i always felt i was not enough.I tried to hurt my body in several ways in order to compensate the pain that i had in my heart.

I also tried to harden my emotions,stiffen my voices,shorten my smile and make myself forlorn.I slept for hours and hours ;not because i was lazy but just to escape this life,escape the ugliest feelings that i had in my head.Every night when i lay on my bed,surrounded by net,covered by a huge blanket,just peeping my nose for air,i could not still resist my insecurities.The dark walls in front of me,they frightened me every night.I listened to the most painful songs as if i was addicted to that pain.I spelled my emotions in the social media where i was always judged and never really understood.I gave myself to the people who i thought were mine and they gave me an emptiness with my anxiety intensified and my soul suffered a great loss. I still did not give up to close my eyes and suffocated to fall asleep,suffocated to breathe.It pains me to say that i woke up with an ache in my throat,an everlasting torture in my mind like an incurable disease.

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Red:Part 2

Nothing in the universe would have stopped me from playing those piled up memories of the past in my messed up stereo(brain).Not even the chilling cold of February made any senses to my skin.

The snow was falling upon my body ,changing my black overcoat to the white one.I got totally lost as if i was a living mannequin(though i was dying inside).

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Red:Part 1

While passing through the sub-street of the heart of New York city at midday of February,something unusual stroked my head with an unexpected beat in my heart.

Well! this was not the first time that i was walking through those large pavements.Those pavements touched the same old church,Rosemary’s romantic cafe,department stores ,a cyber and so on.Though i lived in California,i used to visit my old ,loving and kind grandpa[an american citizen i have known in Nepal(my country)] in the New York city every weekends.

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From girl’s perspective

As I never liked plans [my logic:plans generate expectations and expectations always hurts], I  surprised him with my message to meet me which he would have never thought of. Although he took time to see me, I could feel the eagerness in him to meet me, in his replies. 

Fear, excitement, courage, nervousness were the mixed emotions that were flowing within me while I was waiting for him. Finally the two months of patience (i met him on social media two months back but i can never accept that this soul never knew that soul before those months) bore fruit and he was there in front of me, in his white car, formally dressed. We shook hands, his hands felt warm.

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Whenever i stare at the large mirror of my tiny room, it shows two images of me: one vivid and another blur.In the first one i find a pretty face in perfect curvy body with best complexion.It then makes me know that i am already what every girl would ever imagine of being.I am compelled by my mirror to envy my own beauty .Glaring at my blue eyeballs, I wink at myself, i fall in love with me.

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