Read This When You Feel The Weight Of The World On Your Shoulders


At times I get this feeling that I can’t describe. It hinges on desperation, but it provides a sort of respite from the buoyancies of life. It helps me put things in perspective and realize how trite my own existence is in the grander scheme of things.

It makes me realize that all that I’m blessed with is a burden that I will have to carry for the rest of my life. Because there are people who are more miserable than me and I don’t think that’s fair or even a necessary cause of life.

I childishly cling to a dream where the world isn’t what it is and in its stead, it’s just a distant memory, where the harshness and the cruelty do not exist.
But coming back to reality, this feeling that I suppose I can’t describe to its true extent, thrusts me into a world where the only facets that dominate space and time are guilt and misery. I feel guilty for the miserable but the respite comes when I realize that I myself am miserable. Therefore, in a strange contrite way, this balance is the product of that feeling.

I would be sad if I was happy, because that guilt doesn’t allow me to indulge in the greater pleasures of life. It doesn’t allow me to say that I’m the best or that I deserve the best because someone else would have to say the opposite.

And no matter how I see it, I do not think it should be the case.

I do not think someone else’s vulnerabilities should be a ladder to my success and I wouldn’t feel right sharing that delusion. Or maybe I’m deluded, but that feeling makes me feel like I’m not. It makes me feel that my guilt is justified. In a way, it makes me feel connected to humanity.

I wouldn’t say that I’m depressed. On the contrary, that feeling is my way out of depression. The solace it brings me in knowing that my misery ought to include a little bit of everyone else’s, quashes the dark fires of despair.

I cannot describe that feeling, because it so rarely hits me and when it does, it’s usually late in the night when I get to view things from the vantage point that is memory. And then I realize that my self-awareness is on an upward path and that, notwithstanding my general mood, my philosophy doesn’t allow me to be genuinely happy.