Was the Underground man right?

I was trying to read Dostoevsky's Notes from Underground since October last year. With major gaps, sometimes month long and mostly using it to avoid the present or just as a tool to help me sleep.. for I still think I did not get most of it.. I am still here, still scribbling nonsense. Because I do not have escape .. and perhaps I am searching for one for sometime now.

What if the Underground man was right?

What if we are actually in love with suffering.. and resentment is the only way we can keep ourselves from drowning deeper. The days had been much better, something that I can now only think of a different person's, not my own. How can I be that person who was smiling like infinity on the arms of a beloved? That I sometimes think was the best version of mine ever. But what do I know .. I have been shown that the forever that we grew up wondering do not exist. Forever sometimes are just 3 days, 3 months or 3 years. In case you also wanted to be happy, feel loved and to love, be yourself and thought you are more than just a plethora of negatives, I don't think I have anything to offer to you. Not that I have anything to serve to others as well. 

I don't even have much for myself, except for a sad line of thoughts that I keep feeding myself. No, not all of my days are this way. Somedays, even now, I see a silver-lining of a better version of my myself. Sometimes I still catch myself off-guard to possibilities, to hope and to a home of mine. But, in the very next moment it seems impossible, like I am in a trench and dreaming of beach without knowing how to swim at all. What if I actually am the spiral that my life is?

This is a self-loathing post. I know you would say I should not indulge in this but go and actually do some work. "Try to have a good time". I know. It is all like the many theory lessons I have had from childhood, and you know, I have excelled in most of them. I fail at practicality. I perhaps shall fail in life as well. Something tells me to not be afraid of failing, but my emotions range from numbness to crippling anxiety. I think I might just be the underground man, not so much of a thinker but almost full of that same indecisiveness, lack of any sense of self-worth, the jealously, the meaningless planning, the irritability, that loneliness, the world is watching me and I am doing it all wrong and the deep down acknowledgement that I am perhaps evil. Sometimes, it all feels like that. And the river flows above you, yet you barely survive this time too. Clinging to something, anything, yet the hope is not going. Why the fuck are the feelings still there? Are those the feelings that I think them to be or are they just imaginations again? 

I recently read and told my friend, that, at times there are no answers while at others it is not the right time and we are not the right people they are to be revealed to. I want to accept it, and not hold anyone accountable. I want to be at peace with myself however life is and whatever it turns out to be. But, all of these are mere words. Truth is It is so shity at times, that I waste it all. Every time something bad happens, I try to think of it as the very end of everything, the end of how I am. Yet, I am still breathing. At times I question why was I not good enough for even one effort? But, what is there to gain from all these, the begging, the misfortune..

.. distractions of all kind.. 

So, this is where I would like to stop writing. I started writing this around 1/2 pm and now its about to be 6pm, and I don't know what I said, what I am saying and how to move ahead from here. There are chaos and this inability to segregate myself from the intrusive thoughts. So, this is where I am gonna be for some more time, if not always. Maybe one day I will understand and be okay. 

-Rashmi, 17th June 2021