All stories matter

We hope these stories will inspire you and more young people to come forward and share their own, helping to break down the stigma surrounding mental health.


September 12, 2017 • Rubina Mulchandani • Female • 24 • Gurgaon

I am nowhere. I am the emptiness that encloses the screeching silence.
I am a gap waiting to be filled. I am a void, a vacuum, shadowed by nothingness.
My name drowns in the worldly noise that surrounds me. My identity is undergoing constant metamorphosis.

It changes at a speed that is beyond my reach. I am the pause that follows a question. I am the blank that precedes an answer. I am like a semi colon, waiting for this universe to complete my unfinished sentence.

I am neither here nor there, neither mine nor anybody else’s. I am the curiosity in the eyes of people barging into my personal space. I am the uncertainty that makes my gut cringe. I am the inner fold of a tunnel that doesn’t know where it leads to. I am like the waiting river, yearning to become one with the sea.

I am the hollow of a peephole. I am the unending journey of a wanderer, the strangled dreams trying to catch their breath. I am the consequence of my choices, more wrong than right. I am the challenging responsibility of my complex decisions. In this world of pretension, I am the struggle of being real.

I am the protest against the society, the black mark of rebellion. I am the raw interior underneath a flashy exterior. I am like the edges of aimlessly flowing hair. I am but a moment, so crucial yet so transient. I am the restlessness that pulls me down. I am the darkness that accompanies the light. I am the hindrance in my own path. I am the test of my actions, the face of my mistakes. I am what crumbles and falls, in the hope of being put together. I am the pieces of an unsolved puzzle, mysterious and daunting.

I am fear and despair. I am the calm, but only the one that enrages a storm. I am the quiet and the hush. I am the blur that separates solitude from loneliness. I am the blinking cursor, brimming with words yet to be spilled. I am a new page, untouched, maybe unnecessary. I am the last drop of ink, significant for a second and a waste the next. I am the long queue, with ill-defined beginnings and endings. I am the threshold, pressurized from all sides, waiting to break free. I am a conflict, far from resolution.

I am an unexplored terrain, adventurous and forbidden. I am the unsure smile and the fading pain. I am the glistening eyes of someone who dared. I am like the flickering bulb, forced to light up but heading towards a blackout. I am but a string of full stops….

But, I still am. I exist. I survive. And sometimes, this is all that matters. Sometimes, just being is all that is needed. I am my own meaning, my own destiny. I am searching for my soul and in this quest, someday I will find myself.

TAGS #acceptance #depression #mentalhealth #poetry #selfawareness #talking #therapy healing