Draft

Do you get that volatile, gut-wrenching feeling of failing miserably at something you slaved so tirelessly on?

It's like a bird endlessly chirping, “You are not good enough.”

Do you get that anxious feeling in the middle of a lecture when you can’t understand a topic? It feels as though the entire class is in sync with everything being taught, and you understand nothing.

Do you experience that weird sickness while preparing for a test that tells you, “You can’t do this”?

It's a sinking and overwhelming feeling of consistently being "not good enough.".

What does one name it?

Anxiety?

Self doubt?

Lack of confidence?

Loneliness?

Loneliness of not being as good as everyone? 

We came alone. We’ll go alone. So who cares if we are a little lonely? 

Do you have that appalling feeling while being surrounded by people? 

Have you ever felt tears running down your face in the middle of class as you realised how much you hate sitting alone? 

Have you ever felt a heavy burden on your chest as you entered your classroom because you know that for the next 8 hours you are alone, sitting in the middle of at least 60 students?

You are alone.

I won’t label this horrible sensation as loneliness. I would define loneliness in a different way.

For me, lonliness is my failure to understand the very basics of a subject. My failure to spark a conversation with someone I know. My failure to shake hands with someone comfortably. My failure to pass a smile to someone without having at least 1000 thoughts. 

The loneliness of not being good enough. Loneliness of being left behind. That feeling of not being good enough is what makes me lonely. I will be left behind in a hidden corner, berating myself. (K)

Loneliness is when you see others achieving their goals and others being happier than ever, but you are alone inside. Unfulfilled goals, unfulfilled happiness, unfulfilled life. 

Perhaps loneliness is like a hole. Deep inside your chest. And people, ideas, and success just fill this hole up for a while. (A)

People write because nobody listens. I feel like even my pages don’t want to be written. They are probably fed up with my incessant whining. I feel like in a minute or two, even they'll get up and leave. My lonliness creeps in through my words. It's a sinking feeling that my words are abandoning me. Soon, I'll be left with nothing but empty pages. Empty pages looking blindingly at me. Empty pages pitying at my meloncholic sigh.

In a world where even friends leave, how do I blithely trust that my words will stay?

I am trapped in a state of never-ending dipping short of the expectations that my younger self set for me. It's a sense of isolation from my eroded standards that I once believed faithless in. It's a whirpool of self-doubt. I constantly feel like I am not measuring up to others, which only amplifies this sense of loneliness. It's a vicious cycle that I can never break free from.

I stared at my empty pages; the words left me. I feel a sense of solace, a sense of comfort.
I realise that maybe my words were never meant to stay. The steady state of words would never be able to suffice for my hindering thoughts.

But my writing will stay. It will be with me for my lifetime. It can never leave me. It's a part of me. It's a reminder that my voice will always be heard, even if I myself turn my back on my thoughts. My writing would hear them.

Unfulfilled goals and unfulfilled aspirations are fine unfulfilled.

Bukowski once said something interesting about writers who became successful at a young age. He said he pitied them. They missed out on the sh*t pile of life.

I don't want to miss out on this sh*t pile of life.

~Vidushi Anand