It’s 3 am on a Saturday, and I’m sitting in my bed staring at my laptop screen, typing away my mind. My earphones are plugged in, but there’s no music in them. It’s really just to dim the sound of the fan running. You could tell me to just switch the fan off, but then that silence would be too loud to think through. This dimmed out noise is just enough to let me think and write without distracting me.
I’ve been living by myself for almost three months now. As a working adult. It really feels weird to refer to myself as that, but that is what I actually am. A responsible, working adult. Well, the “responsible” part of it is really subjective. My responsibility just got thrown at me from the day I first left home in May for my cabin crew training. Didn’t have much of a choice there, because I was a sane person after all, and sane people are responsible. Right?
No complaints there, though. About the responsibility, I mean. I like being this responsible person because it gives my parents confidence in me to handle my own life. And knowing that I am responsible allows me to give myself the freedom to do what I want, because I know how to handle whatever may come. That’s what I believe, at least.
When I pictured my life living by myself in Bangalore, it was hugely different from the reality I’m living now. I had imagined that I would be super happy, would have many friends, would go out on all my days off and more stupid stuff like that. You see, what you imagine and what it really turns out to be can sometimes be so different, that it might even end up the opposite of what you imagined.
My time here in Bangalore has been pretty sad, come to think of it. I’ve been giving my all to my work. I absolutely love it, and I just wanna keep doing it. Because of that, what really ends up happening is that I just work all the time, and when I have my days off, I only find myself sleeping it off and then waking up to eat, binge watch TV shows or watch a movie or two, read a few pages of a book and then back to sleep. The excessive sleep is largely because of my odd work timings, and also because every time I return home from work, regardless of the number of flights I’ve had, I’m always just tired. There’s just something about take-offs and landings which really, really drains a huge chunk of energy from us. The other aspects of our work isn’t usually tiring.
Anyway, coming back to my life. I’m happiest when I’m working. But the story is rather different when I’m home with nothing to do.
Sitting inside my room with my laptop, phone and books for company, I sometimes get lonely. And I mean really, really lonely. Once that feeling sets in and I start dwelling on it, I go into a whole new level of loneliness. My mind would feel both empty and chaotic at the same time, and I’d get super restless but unable to do anything either. A kind of sadness just sets in, which I just can’t shake away. I’d end up staring at the wall, into the distance or just anything, and tears would just fill my eyes and spill over. At times it makes me wonder if this is how it would be like to slowly fall into depression. But then I tell myself not to be stupid and that there’s no way I can be depressed. After all, I’m always this little ball of sunshine wherever I go, and I am always just so happy. But sometimes, I really don’t know.
I can’t work up the will to go out and make new friends when I’m home on my days off. I just can’t. I don’t know why. The most I’d feel like doing is going to the nearest cafe with a book and just sip on some coffee and read or listen to music. The hours spent being home by myself are the most painful, and I’d just wait for the next day of work to come so that I can get ready and go out and spread some cheer again to 180 strangers.
This post is just me journaling my life on my blog, and there’s no point to this post. To my friends who I might not have talked to in a long time and who might be wondering about my life, well now you know. It’s not really that great, but maybe I just need to give it time to work itself out and become better. You never know how things could turn out, isn’t it?
If you’ve been reading the whole thing and reached here, thank you very much for taking time to know about the insignificant details of my life. If I haven’t bored you with this or driven you to unfollow my blog, I’ll meet you through the next post. Good day to you! 🙂