Confession of my “Strange Disease” (First Confession)

Here I’m writing my first blog. To be honest, I don’t know why I’m writing but one thing I know is that my heart is happy to write. People write with their minds but here I’m writing with my heart and the ink of my heart is quite deep and dark.

I might sound funny and odd, you might think that I ‘m creating a scene for my blog but I have vowed to write truth and starts with the truth. The reason behind my writing is my “strange Disease”. The disease which has no cure and I know I would be living with that disease throughout my life. I called it a disease because it makes me suffer, gives a pain to my heart and mind. It’s like a migraine to my mind and a feeble heartache to my heart.  To be honest I really didn’t like to write nor did I want to study and glare at books. I thought books were tiny compared to nature. The world was a great book for me and still is. I might sound plain but that that’s how I feel and to be honest I used to call fool who used to lose their life in books. But today my hate became only the cure to my disease and I’m embracing with grace!!!

It started when I was still an innocent boy and hadn’t known the world better. But then there was my granny to listen me. By the end of high school, I suffered a great tragedy I lost my cure, I lost my granny. I became numb but then my “strange disease” started to rise. Sometimes I felt that it would engulf my life. I started to lose my moment. I tried to indulge myself in games and work but neither did they work. There was this feeling of dissatisfaction and the feeling in my heart that I was missing something important from my life. I feel like my soul was oscillating and my minds was sin trauma.

The problem was that I couldn't stop thinking about people, life, problems and surroundings. It would be normal if it was rare but thoughts started to come though I was working my mind or I was engaged in something. This was being hindrance to my normal life. My mind and heart was piling up with thoughts. I was lost on my own. Teachers, friends said I kindda looked lost. I was afraid that they would laugh at me if I shared the truth .The creation of thoughts didn't let me off so easily. The biggest problem was that I wasn't sure what I was missing.

My life was dwelling between normality and abnormality. The world seemed as a squeezed lemon. So distressed I was that couldn't even sleep peacefully. I would wake up in the midnight, frightened and find myself struggling to breathe. With my every heartbeat thoughts and ideas started to pile up about everything I could think and see around me. I couldn't stop thinking and playing with thoughts. I was afraid of the thoughts being piled up and effect that they gonna cause to my mental state. I was looking for a bin where I can bin my thoughts. I thought they were just useless thoughts but at some point I found that it was giving me a new dimension to think about my life and world.

I was in desperately seeking solution for my sickness. But one night I woke up and started to write about the thought that was fighting in in my dream .I wrote in unconsciousness because I couldn't recall what I wrote about. But suddenly the feeling of being cured came and I had a good sleep that night after a long time .Dream was one of the horrible things I had because it would be scary and blurry dreams. I thought that I would start to write about everything going in my mind so that they won't end up piling in my brains .I finally started to write about everything, when my mind would be in trauma and my heart felt it's not in ease. Writing cured my illness temporarily. Though it cured but still hated to write because every piece of my writings was the outcome of vigorous mental fight. I hate to go through and write but after all, I could feel self-satisfaction at the end of every piece of my writing.  I hated the fact that I have to write while I’m travelling, while I’m doing something, the fact my mind has to go through lots of mental war. But still felt relieved because there might be some reason behind that feeling.  I decided to write and post in public and this is how I ended up posting my first blog. There is no reason to blog but it’ only hope to my “strange disease”. A blank paper is like a sleeping pill to me after I fill it with my thoughts .I read the first book at the age of 17. It was great and really helped me. I felt in love with its scent which dragged me to the library. That’s how my life changed with the change in my thoughts and attitude.

 I’d like to share everything with people ...listen and read their ideas, views and share mine too. Here I’m doing the first confession about my life.    You can feel free to share anything on my blog post. Hope we would be able to create a destiny with our own words. Helping hands can help you to make life better and create a better world for yourself and others.

Wish me good luck