This made me extremely irritable, moody, and disoriented. I did not have the energy to do basic things like clean my room or take a bath. I lost a decent amount of weight as I would go a while without eating and then suddenly stuff myself. I would not go to school for weeks. I felt empty, numb, and so tired mentally, physically, emotionally—you name it. In one sentence: I was really fucked.My father never noticed until shit hit the fan. Even though I had solid support from my sisters and best friend, my father trying to downplay what I was feeling exacerbated what was to come.And then it began to manifest in other ways. First, it was the erratic sleep cycle. I was sleeping all day and was awake at nights. This was the time I started substance abuse too. I took pot, alcohol, cheap painkillers, and cough medication whenever I felt like it and wherever I could find it—at my college hostel, in the market, in class, or even at the gym.
“Nope,” I said to myself, and quickly called my therapist to inform my dad what happened because I could not bring myself to do it. I don’t really remember much of what happened after. It was like my brain just deleted the entire sequence of events. The next thing I remember is waking up in an ICU the next day with a pipe down my nose to my stomach.For much of the year after the incident, I followed through with therapy and learned a few tricks. Therapy sorted a lot of knots in my head, one of the most important being that I was not to blame for my dad’s second marriage, that being helpful to other people is good, and so is having healthy boundaries with them.Whenever I feel too overwhelmed, I would distance myself from the issue, calm down however I could (sleep, exercise, cooking, etc), and approach it with a fresh and clear mind. I learned to enjoy my own company rather than needlessly seeking attention.One day, I told my dad I was taking a bath, closed my door and cocktailed on my pills. But immediately after doing this, I changed my mind.
I would not say that my journey is the roadmap for people to get out of a difficult situation. Everyone has their own path. In fact, I still manage to repeat mistakes. But there’s an extraordinary strength in acknowledging the “problem” and trying to get the help we deserve.One thing I remind myself is that things don’t get fixed overnight. It takes time, effort, and learning how to cope. Also, love. Instead of whining about the love I don’t get, I started cherishing the love I was getting.