Not sure if it’s just me, but this stretched episode of self-isolation is turning out to be quite a rollercoaster ride as far as my mental state is concerned. While I still haven’t reached out to anti-depressants for help (so, according to a recent research, doctors have seen a 50 per cent surge in anti-depressant sales since Covid-19 took over our lives), I am battling persistent melancholy, nevertheless.
It all starts with introspection, stare a little longer into the unknown and my thoughts begin to slide into a crevice that has been created by the current situation. Before I realise it, I am scratching at the crevice, deepening it, widening it and soon thereafter, I find myself in a freefall down the chasm, which is nothing but an aching want for that mythical more.
What is equally, or should I say more, annoying, is that this is quite often a fruitless exercise and, therefore, all the more frustrating.
So, what should one do? Pay attention to the early warning signs and avoid taking that slippery road to despair?
I guess that can be a temporary solution until we go back to our before-coronavirus lives where constant distraction used to save us from deep-diving into the blackhole of emptiness.
This brings me to another thought: is this constant state of disquiet a result of an idle mind or to do with the fact that I tend to overthink, irrespective?
I guess it’s time to take a resolution, learn to find my positivity in Carpe Diem. I might still not have the GPS coordinates to that destination, but I am going to take that journey.