I’m fine

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION

TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE,TRAUMA,ISOLATION

I think hospitals everywhere have the same kind of smell. Maybe hospitals everywhere get the same kind of floor cleaner. This smell, that’s how I knew I was in a hospital even before I opened my eyes.

There’s a nurse, she seems kinda indifferent as if I’m just another piece of meat to her. There’s this doctor who is talking to my uncle; I can barely hear what they are talking about. I knew my uncle just said my name.

And then there’s this lady along with them, she seems afraid, kinda pale. Why is she here, I don’t know who she is. And why is there a young constable sitting at the foot of my bed? And who’s the other guy? He doesn’t seem like a cop. Wait, why am I in the hospital? Did I faint again? Why am I handcuffed to the bed; what the fuck is going on?

Ouch!

My face hurts.

Oh right, that’s how I end up here.

I got hit by a car. That means that the frightened lady was the one driving it. Man, now I feel bad for her. That explains the cop too but why am I handcuffed? The doctor seems to be coming this way, maybe the nurse told him that I’ve regained consciousness. Guess she’s not that indifferent after all. The doctor has this fake smile on his face, the kind you see on the face of telemarketers and waiters. Guess he’s trying to make me feel comfortable.

 Quick I should do something, quick, smile in return. 

I looked away instead.

God, I hate myself, why couldn’t I just respond like a normal guy? He looked at my charts, told me about the injuries I have. Turns out I broke my left hand, have stitches on my face and my ribs are cracked. I can’t believe I got hit by a car. I wonder what it looked like to other people. I don’t even remember any car coming towards me. What was I doing when I got hit? How did I get hit? I bet everybody’s wondering that. I bet they think I tried to cross the road recklessly or something. Adults always think it’s the young guy’s fault, no two way around it.

The doctor left. My uncle asked me if I needed anything as he had to leave too. But the cop isn’t leaving and the other guy is talking to my uncle. I still can’t make out what they are talking about. Why do they have to stand so damn far?!

The other guy sat next to me, he introduced himself as Dr. Ashwin.

Up close, he looks quite young as if he just got his degree. Maybe he’s an attending resident or something.

‘How are you?

God, I hate that question. Because honestly, I never know how I am. People, friends, classmates, family members and acquaintances I barely talk to, all of them always ask this stupid question. I mean, I know you don’t really care how I am. You are just asking the question because you think you’re supposed to ask it. I mean, what am I supposed to answer to that? How I’ve been feeling? Because if I honestly told people how I’ve been feeling, they’ll probably send me to some  psychiatric institution.

I hate this question and I hate the standard lie you’re supposed to give in response. The same response that I’m about to give.

‘I’m fine.’ I said, ‘Well except for all the broken bones.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yeah, I’m sure, why.’ What the heck is his problem? I said I’m fine. Chill out Doc.

‘Because you tried to kill yourself.’

‘I WHAT!’ …..

‘As per the witness report, you walked in front of the car. You’re lucky that you’re still alive.’

Do they think I tried to kill myself? That explains the handcuffs.

‘Doctor, why are you asking me all this? Isn’t that the cop’s job?’

‘The cops are talking to your uncle and the lady who hit you.’

Oh god, now I really feel bad for her. Wait… now is not the time to think about all that. They think I’m suicidal. That’s fucked up. I gotta clear this up or else they’ll stick me to therapy and I can’t afford that and I can’t afford to miss classes. I’ll fall behind if all that comes to happen.

‘Listen, it was just an accident. It’s not the lady’s fault either. I must not have paid attention. I’m not suicidal.’

‘I’ll be the judge of that.’

‘What!?’

‘I’m your psychiatrist, I’ve been appointed to see whether you have any suicidal tendencies or not.’

Fuck.

‘Why don’t you tell me about that day?’ He said, looking at me.

He seemed sort of genuinely interested. Trust me, I know when someone is actually interested in listening to me or not. So many times I’ve seen the interest fade away from people’s eyes like they can’t wait for me to shut up so that they themselves can speak. Sometimes they don’t even have the decency of waiting. People mostly just love the sound of their own voice. And when someone tells you something like ‘You are such a good friend because you listen‘, they just mean ‘Thank you for letting me use you as a soundboard.’

But maybe talking about that day will help me figure out why they think I tried to kill myself.

‘Well, I went to class. I remember that. I remember I had missed breakfast and wanted to go get something to eat before the next class started. But like always, a bunch of students spent 15 minutes after the class kissing the professor’s ass. This is gotta be one of the worst parts of academia. I mean, more than the student, I’m disgusted at the professor. How hollow and vane do you have to be that you need validation from a bunch of 20-year-old students whom you’ve only taught for 6 months.

‘I had to wait till lunch until I could finally eat something.

 ‘I remember I sat down with a bunch of my classmates in the canteen. And then some idiot, I don’t remember who, started talking about the upcoming entrance exam for the advance research course. Every year it took only a handful of students. It was a big deal and was one of the reasons why students were so eager to kiss ass. 15 minutes into that conversation I went into my movie mode.’

‘Movie mode?’

‘It’s basically when I know I’m no longer the part of the conversation, I sort of back out and see everything play out like a scene of a movie. I imagine different camera angles on different people, etc. It’s a kinda fun thing to do.

‘Anyway, by the end of that conversation, I remember feeling nauseated. It was maybe because I hadn’t eaten. I felt like I just had to get out of there. So I left. It’s not like I’m worried about the exam or anything. I know if I study regularly I can do it, and I know if I plan it well, I can. Wow, it feels like such a bullshit as I am saying it right now. Truth be told, I’m worried about the exam but that’s part of academic life, you know? Everybody gets the short end of some sticks.

‘Some people have relationship problems, some are emotional screw-ups, some have health issues and I have trouble concentrating.

‘But that’s not a big deal, I’m sure I’ll catch up. I have to, you know? I can’t quit. I just can’t.’

‘Do you enjoy your subject?’ He asked.

‘I enjoy parts of it I guess. Honestly I never really had a passion for anything. I mean, isn’t passion a bit overrated? Whatever work I do, there are parts of it that I enjoy and parts of it that I don’t. When someone my age tells me that they are passionate about some job or some subject, most of the time I don’t really believe them. I just think they are trying to ascribe some meaning to their life by making themselves feel they have an end goal, I can’t be the only one who doesn’t think of a job as a goal. I don’t even know if I wanna do a job. That’s stupid, how am I gonna survive in this economy if I don’t do a job?’

‘What happened next?’

‘Then I went to see her.’

‘Her?’

‘This girl I really like, I like talking to her. She always makes me feel easy, unlike most people. I feel like I can be myself around her. We’ve been planning to watch this movie for some time so I thought maybe we could go then. Movies always make me feel better. I couldn’t find her so I texted her. She told me she won’t be able to make it and that she’s super busy at home.

‘I sat in a park for a while. I know I didn’t want to go home because I was feeling shitty. I just really wanted to spend some time with her. I just really wanted to spend some time with anyone actually. And it’s not like I wanted to talk about some issue or something, sometimes you just wish someone was there. But everybody has their own life and nobody’s obligated to spend time with me. So I figured there’s no point feeling bummed out. There’s this another burger joint near the theatre, I figured food might make me feel better. My nausea was gone too by now. I should’ve just stayed in the park.’

‘Inside the joint, there are these booths where you can sit and eat. I always take the corner one. It’s kinda cramped so no group takes it. I can just sit there by myself and enjoy my meal. As I was sitting there, I heard a familiar voice coming from the adjacent booth. I looked at the window on which a fraction of the adjacent booth was visible. It was her. The girl I like, she was there.’

‘But didn’t she tell you she was busy?’

‘Yeah, I thought so too but I figured she probably came there for a quick lunch. It was a pretty famous joint. So I decided I would text her and surprise her. It would’ve been fun. I texted her and waited for her to see the message. I could hear her phone’s notification tone. Anytime now, I figured. But she didn’t reply.’

‘Who was that?’ her friend asked.

‘This guy from my class, he keeps talking about his problems. Honestly, I’m so sick of it.’

‘Oh, the same guy who wanted to go to the movie.’

‘Yeah he texted today too, I told him I was busy, I can’t hang out with him anymore. I keep ignoring his messages, yet he still doesn’t get it. I don’t like him.’

‘Why don’t you just tell him that?’

‘I don’t want some weird drama. He’s a nice guy, just not someone you would wanna hang out with. I mean, I’m sure had we came today for the movie he would’ve talked about cinematography and camera angles and it all just seems so obnoxious. Like read the room buddy, nobody is interested in listening to you talk about all that.’’

‘Wow, sounds like a piece of work.’

‘And that’s not the worst part. You know, he keeps talking about how he is not happy and I’m sick of listening to him yap. I mean there’s nothing wrong with his life. He didn’t do well in one exam and I had to spend two hours talking to him. Had he studied sincerely, he would’ve done well. It’s his fault, how am I to fix that?’

‘Well good thing he’s not here.’ her friend snickered.

‘I’m so glad to hang out with people I actually enjoy being with.’

Then they paid their bill, got up, and left. In a while, I left too.

‘That is a lot to take in, how did you feel after?’ Dr. Ashwin asked.

‘I was really angry because I really wanted to see that movie.’

‘What about the other stuff?’

‘I mean, she wasn’t wrong you know, what do I have to be sad for? I’ve got loving parents who didn’t abuse me. I’ve got friends. I’m studying in one of the most prestigious institutes in the country. I mean, a lot of people in the world would kill for all that I have. And if I can’t handle the academic pressure, it’s probably because I’m not applying myself properly. I’ll do it from now on.’ I said.

I almost meant it too.

‘I want you to understand something, just because your sadness doesn’t match the notion and standard of sadness of other people doesn’t mean your feelings are invalid.’ He said that and then he took a small pause and looked out the window.

‘People can spend a lifetime together and not figure out why something seemingly insignificant makes their partner sad. You can’t let others decide what is and what is not a valid reason for you to feel sad. Please Continue.’

‘I went back home. I felt tired and there was this weird pain in my chest. I really shouldn’t have missed breakfast. I figured I should just sleep for a while. I lied down and I kept staring at the ceiling. Before I knew it, it was already evening. I figured I should go for a walk. And that’s when I got hit’.

‘But how? Did you not see the vehicle approaching?’

‘I wasn’t paying attention.’

‘Why?’

‘I was texting.’

‘What?’

‘Yeah, I remember now. As I was about to cross the road I felt my phone vibrate. She had replied to the text I sent earlier.’

‘What did she say?’

‘She asked me how I was.’

‘And what did you say?’

‘I said I’m fine.’

He looked at me and smiled, but I knew he was kinda sad. Maybe he felt pity towards me. I would hate that.

‘So what’s it gonna be a doc? Do you think I’m suicidal?’

‘Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe you are just another stupid kid who was so busy texting that he walked into the traffic, or maybe you knew exactly what you were doing. Either way, I think you should seek help. Asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness. Asking for help shows that you are strong enough and wise enough to take care of yourself. And there isn’t a minimum bar of sadness that one needs to cross before asking for help.’

‘Thanks, doc.’

‘One more thing.’

‘Yeah?’

‘You can’t let others decide your worth, and I know I sound like one of those bad motivational WhatsApp forwards. But no one has the right to tell you that your feelings are invalid. Friends are not therapists, so they don’t always give the best advice. Go to a professional because if you keep treating your friends like a therapist, your damage might spill over to them.’

 He stood up.

‘Now I ask you again, how are you?’

And this time, I didn’t say I’m fine.