Where do you go when emotions overpower you? Whom do you open up to when the very act of breathing through the lump in your throat feels like the end of the world?
Haven’t they made an app for it yet? where the sad could connect with similar sads and talk about their pain. The break-up sad, the career sad, the first-world sad, the existential sad, the showy sad, the low-key sad, and all the other sads coming under the same roof and crying out together. Catharsis and capitalism for the win.

It feels like the world is waging a war against me. Every now and then, it lets me take a water break. Just when I hope things are getting better, comes another round of biting the dust, all over again. I guess this is my life now. (Andy Bernard.jpg)

I’m reminded of a particular scene from The Fault in our Stars, where Hazel, the cancer victim, talks about the end-of-the-life torture her body had to go through every time she ended up in the Emergency Room.

“When you go into the ER, one of the first things they ask you to do is rate your pain on a scale of one to ten, and from there they decide which drugs to use and how quickly to use them. I’d been asked this question hundreds of times over the years, and I remember once early on when I couldn’t get my breath and it felt like my chest was on fire, flames licking the inside of my ribs fighting for a way to burn out of my body, my parents took me to the ER. nurse asked me about the pain, and I couldn’t even speak, so I held up nine fingers.

Later, after they’d given me something, the nurse came in and she was kind of stroking my head while she took my blood pressure and said, “You know how I know you’re a fighter? You called a ten a nine.”

But that wasn’t quite right. I called it a nine because I was saving my ten..”

Wish I had her courage. And I hope I’m saving my ten, too.


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