Sometimes memory can be a real bitch!

This photo popped up as I was scrolling through my google photos collection. It brought back a boatload of nostalgic memories, flooding right into my fragile brain. A lot of cuss words are dedicated to google photos for showing me the only pic left from my past relationship.

That memory wasn't particularly happy if you know what I mean. She left memories, those that remained were mostly happy, though I should have known that the happiness came coupled with a fake personality. The point is that even though I thought that I had recovered from that unfortunate event, the harsh reality was that I didn't. The next two years of my life were accompanied by melancholy and depression of a sort that I was unaware of. Despite my melancholy, I grew emotionally and in a way enjoyed being in the shadows.

In a sense, it seems odd that anyone could enjoy melancholy: a disease characterized by sadness and fear that has age-old roots. Melancholy's symptoms, and its consequences, can be extreme. Around this time, I came across a book known as The Anatomy of Melancholy written by Robert Burton. I found the answer to my question, namely.

Why are people drawn to a disease that could kill their minds?

After a lot of research I came to realise that, since ancient Greece, melancholy had been associated with the genius of renowned poets, artists, and philosophers, and during the Renaissance, it became fashionable to depict people in a melancholic pose, dressed in black - my favourite colour. Yet such affectation in my opinion could conceal a potentially dangerous, habit-forming affliction from which I surely suffered(not saying that I am a genius or anything XD).

In the book Anatomy, Burton describes melancholy as like a Siren, luring its victims into an ‘irrevocable gulf’. It can start pleasantly enough: a person might want to spend time in solitary contemplation, wandering alone in the woods or down by the river.

‘A most incomparable delight it is so to melancholy, and build castles in the air’, he comments.

Though seemingly innocent, this behaviour starts to intrude on everything, until the person experiencing it can no longer control it:

'these fantastical and bewitching thoughts so covertly, so feelingly, so urgently, so continually set upon, creep in, insinuate, possess, overcome, distract, and detain them, they cannot, I say, go about their more necessary business, stave off or extricate themselves, but are ever musing, melancholising, and carried along'.

Burton’s language hints at the experience he is describing which is soooo relatable: he heaps verb upon verb, crowding his words in just as the ‘bewitching thoughts’ occupy the sufferer’s mind.

I decided to step back into the dating game after 2 years of resentment and breakups. I liked a few girls but COVID slapped me in the face with a monumental welcome. This kept me at home at the expense of a possible date with another girl. I stayed at home like a sitting duck while I waited for the day when I could showcase my life skills.

“The day stretched out the daylight as if on a rack. Each moment was drawn out until its anatomy collapsed. Time broke down. The day progressed in an endless sequence of dead moments.”- China Miéville, Perdido Street Station

So, around this time, I was having a deep talk with my single friends about our relationship and each of our fuckups, and the day came when I realized I was totally single [ I felt like my mental nuts were being punched :) ]. In the meantime, I was talking almost every now and then with a girl. I knew she was single, so my toxic mind started sending me these weird signals and before I knew it, I was already into her. My friends caught wind of this and you know how it turns out :(. With an endless barrage of taunts coming their way and all the sweet conversations I was having with this girl, my fragile brain exploded with frustration. Boom, the end of phase 1.

No conversation between the two of us for the next two months. My confidence was touching the feet of hell. Life was tough back then, I couldn't even imagine it now, that I had stooped so low to care this much about someone with whom I have only conversed via an online medium. It was the 3rd of August 2021 - Friendship day: Guess what she texted me "HAPPY FRIENDSHIP DAY".

All it takes is a second and your whole life can be turned upside down. - Jodi Picoult

I did not plan to reply to her, but my benevolent heart overruled my abate resolve. I gave her a cold reply...it became warmer as I talked to her, and soon it became too hot to handle :). As I was talking to her after 2 more months, I was literally living on the edge. My life was a mess, so much was going on, & here I was wasting my time on a lost cause. To get my life together, I did the unthinkable; I professed my feelings to her - an ultimatum which I knew was going to end things between us but at least I got my shit together.

What's the lesson here? Don't expect things to always go your way every time. It will only bring you sorrow. Of course, I am not suggesting to stop being optimistic in life, but keep doing reality checks from time to time. While I do not regret giving her the ultimatum, if given a chance to do it all over again, I would like to talk to her just like a friend because I have found out that I was merely attracted to her, not in love. It took me 2-3 months to realize that my meat brain was only playing a ruse on me.

Finally, as a result of covid's spanking of my arse, I've gained newfound emotional maturity and some new perspectives, which have skyrocketed my confidence straight to the heavens. Met new friends, relived those nostalgic memories of college, socialised like never before, got a fake driver's license XD, travelled to places, and started believing in spirituality and whatnot. I think covid did a big favour to me by sucking out that depression that was stubborn as a mule.