It was the best evening. I was sitting at the beach, the sun setting before my eyes. The sky was showing its beautiful colours to the world- pink, orange and crimson under hues of yellow and at times violet. The sound of the ocean waves going back and forth time and again was hitting my eardrums and making me feel at peace like no sound in this universe ever could.
I felt like the depth of the ocean understood the depth of my anxiety and the intensity of my depression. I finally felt as if I was comfortable in my own intellectual boundaries. I finally felt like I could say what I want without feeling dumb and nonsensical after every word I utter. I was able to feel the satisfaction of screaming my lungs out. For a while, the feeling of emptiness while I stare at my ceiling for hours at stretch and yet a million thoughts cross my mind in a single second, was subsided.
My best evening wasn’t like how most people’s best times would be. My best evening was when I was finally able to call my anxiety by its name and not just nervousness. It was when in that moment, my depression seemed to be setting just as beautifully as the sun over the horizon.
Picture Source: Google