Bewildered, Befuddled and Confounded

And confused.

Truth to be told, I really am, and this time I have no answers.

Just a little earlier, it occurred to me why I always felt depressed and melancholic around people. It was one of those days where, after feeling contented with a few more interesting things previously, that you just sink down into the web of doubt.

It's a icky, sticky nasty little thing, this web. Every time you struggle to get out of it, sometimes it just entangles you up even more. Of course, I won't discount the fact that struggling can also get you out of it, but right after that you have to face the darn spider again, the bugger (pun intended) who trapped you there in the first place.

I digress, though the analogy wasn't entirely irrelevant. Let's continue.

To my horror, I realised that the negativity stemmed from the fact that people around me were usually happy. They had friends who always (or at least seemed very much to) cared for them. There was laughter abound, wonderful, silvery peals of it fluttering about in the air, coloring the otherwise greyish atmosphere of the last lap in the semester filled with dreary deadlines and the dull prospect of poring over books and readings.

And with every additional dose of happiness, my melancholy grew.

Horrifying, isn't it? To have your negative emotions be inversely proportional to the positive ones around you. It's a terrible feeling, sometimes moreso when you realise that you could have pushed your socialisation limits (and luck) and tried to talk to people or simply laugh along.

Which sometimes earns you sniggers and furtive glances with people moving away from you like you had a sudden relapse after a short, pleasant stay in IMH (If you don't know what IMH is, go slap yourself twice and read it up on the Internet).

What was even more terrifying to me was the notion that I could be reverting to my old self once again. The anti-social fool who thought that he could do things alone with his own talents and abilities.

Only this time I had LITTLE talents or abilities to really talk about, let alone boast.

A desperate feeling sinks in and gnaws at my gut, eroding my courage bit by bit. It gnaws at my heart, slowly dissolving the hope that I've been trying to build up. Wait, my King says. Be strong and courageous, He declares.

But for how long must I wait? How do I grow stronger if I don't overcome the challenges in my life right now? How am I supposed to help others with this kind of thinking?

I don't know. Sometimes the feeling was so serious that just a continuous string of MSN reminders of replies from someone else's laptop or computer irritated me. Am I torturing myself? I probably am. Do I want this to continue? Heck no.

Sometimes, being unable to see certain people for a long time or talk with them can result in this, I suppose. People who I can share my woes with. People who would really listen to me without pretense. People who gladden my heart the very moment they appear before me in any manner.

But now it suddenly seems so far away as the silence grows larger and larger, day by day. It is not the kind of silence you find in the library, a graveyard, or even in a picturesque open field of white daffodils. It's the silence you can only feel in your heart. The type that plagues your dreams, corrupting them into a nightmarish horror at times.

So what now? When I feel lost yet do not really want to sound off (for fear of worrying others too much and for my own stupid pride), what can I do?

What can I do, but pray and hope for the best? What can I do but be still and know that He's my King?

What can I do but fight and hope for the best?