The first time it happened, the thought gently tapped on on my window trying to blend in with raindrops pattering down. I heard it’s calling when I came by the window to look at the rain. The thought tapped again seeking permission for it’s entry in the comfort of my mind away from the unwelcoming scenery. I thought for a moment that what harm could a thought possibly do, so I let it in and it immediately made it’s home in me.
It was a good tenant it the beginning, not bothering me. Soon the facade wore off and it made itself too comfortable it seemed. It hammered me with guilt and negativity. I could hardly function without wanting to rip myself apart. I realised was losing myself in this chaos. One day I decided to confront the reckless tenant in my mind. It admitted to it’s action immediately, but when it was politely asked by me to leave, it bluntly refused. As a last resort I used force, but it was all in vain. The thought stuck to my mind like a leach refusing to let go at any cost. It was almost like it fused itself with me. No matter how hard I tried, it was always there laughing menacingly at my suffering.
I started blaming others for my pain. I blamed my parents and culture
that taught me hospitality which was the reason I let that thought inside in the first place. I blamed my friends because they were supposed to help me evict the demonic tenant. I blamed others for being happy when I wasn’t.
The guilt and anger about events from my childhood were eating up the happiness of my present and this was the doing of the unwanted resident in my mind. My constant paranoia and guilt made me push away people who were trying to help me. On my bad days I felt like giving up the fight and letting the thought consume me entirely. I was spiralling down deeper everyday and I broke down when it hit me that I’m no longer the person I used to be. I lost my identity. I kept wallowing in my guilt and misery wishing that the day had never come when I let the thought in.
I hated the sad and miserable person I was becoming, so I gathered the last bit of strength left it me and called a friend crying on the phone that I had my lost myself because the guilt of the past was all too consuming.
No matter how hard you tried, you can’t pull yourself out of a deep hole all by yourself. You need to call out for help so someone pulls you out. I accepted that I needed help and I finally found the courage to pick up the phone reach out to it. It was a herculean task for both my friend and me to pull me out of that hole but with some perseverance we did it. We finally evicted the unwanted guest in my mind. The guilty thought was gone. It tapped on my window a few more times after that pretending to be a saint and I was more than inclined to give in once again rather than ignoring the tapping, but I was reminded of my struggles and turned my head the other way. It was a long and hard struggle, but I was regaining my identity and I was becoming my old happy self once again. I was becoming me again and I couldn’t be thankful. The thought brought me to my rock-bottom, but it also taught me that sometimes all you have to do is have courage and reach out for a helping hand.