Why Me ?

Indefinite is the number of times when you cannot put your finger on what is causing your depression. Your whole view of the world turns black. Nothing that ever happens puts a smile on your face. It is not that you become critical of everything; you are just not in the mood to share the smile and the laughter. You become disinterested and distant. Everything seems meaningless and you know something is not at its right place. You have that feeling that means something is going the wrong way. There is one common point between all of the people that surround you: they look up to you, each in their own way.

You ask yourself repeatedly the same question over and over again. You think that answering that one question will open the doors for the happiness that you are missing. You need the right answer for that one particular question that haunts all day and all night. You try not to think about it sometimes, but it comes back to you anyway. It is like your unconscious wants you to wonder about the question. It is as if your whole life depends on answering that simple question. It sounds so simple, but the words that answer it are missing. You cannot put even one sentence together and answer the damn question. It gets on your nerves. It makes you mad, but you do not even know why you are mad about it. You do not even know why that question came to you in the first place. You do not understand why is it hard to answer that question. It is not like you cannot answer any other question, but why that one exactly. You only think you know why you have to answer it, but even that is not sure. You are not sure why exactly. It is one question. One simple question. One simple damned question. You write down it reads: “why me?”

You cannot see beyond what makes you human like them. Once before, you could see beyond that and reach the conclusion that you were unique and one of a kind. You cannot see how unique you are anymore. You cannot see what makes you one of a kind. You look at yourself and find nothing special about you. You are a baby, a youngster, an adult, an old and you are dead. You are a boy and a girl, a man and a woman, a husband and a wife, a father and a mother and dead. You are a student, a lazy student, and again a student, and yet again student and then a worker, a lazy worker, and a hard worker, and even a harder worker, and dead. Nothing is special about you, simple human. Nothing is interesting about you, boring human. You are like everyone else, normal human. You are pointless, without an addition or effect, meaningless human. You exist because you have to, and you do whatever you do because you have to, enslaved human. Why you? You are one of them, but they see you different. You are a piece that fits right within, but they consider you a puzzle of your own. You seem to be part of them, but they think of you as a whole. You even sound like them, they just hear you differently. Yet, even if you do not see it that way, you simply cannot be like one them.

They want to be just like you, but you have a saying against that and it contradicts you. If they are like you, why would you not allow them to want to be like you? It would not change anything in them, would it? And if they are not like you, they would become like you and hence, you are one of them again. Something bothers you about them being like you, even if you are like them. They should not change. You do not wish for them to be like you. Being you does not sound right. Being you is not a good experience. You have a different perspective than they have. They see you from a different angle, an outside angle. You see yourself from within. You know the secrets and the darkness that comes with the state of being you. It is unpleasant, no matter how good it looks. But it means that you are not like one of them. Or are you? You do not know how unpleasant it is for them neither, but it sounds that they have got it better than you have. Is not that the whole point of you being like them? Thoughts keep changing, and you are still not sure, as you look down again; “why me?”

You are what you have always known… and cannot deal with it anymore. You have the potential and it scares you to think that you would not own up to it. You have accomplished a lot that it seems nothing compared with what you have planned. Others expect the impossible of you, and it stresses you that you may have to disappoint them. Expectations bring disappointment, success brings fear and the future is unclear even when you make it happen. You are on the edge each day because each day is a step forward. It is always a step forward. You just do not know where you are really going. And it does not stop. Life does not stop, and you do not either. You are what you have always known: a potential success and it is terrifying enough that you cannot deal with it anymore.