Carrying My Darkness, With Love
When I was young, I was constantly haunted by this recurring nightmare that is still fresh in my memories. In the nightmare, I was stuck in between the curtains and in trying to get out, I’d get stuck in a never-ending loop, right in between, circling around and around. It terrified me.
When I became a teenager, I thought the world was against me at one point. I was dating this amazing guy but I was still considered too young to date. My parents would keep a strict watch on me and talking to them about the challenges I was going through was not really an option for me. I was at the time, being threatened by teachers in school who would drop threats of calling my parents and letting them know of the rumors they’d heard of me dating if I didn’t do as told. I was beyond terrified of my parents getting to know. I remember some friends I hung out with in my residential society who were also quite vocal about wanting me to break up. Dating as a teenager in my society is considered a cardinal sin, especially for a girl. Ironically, the boy I was dating was the only one who actually understood me at all. At a point when it felt like the world was against me, I turned upon myself, and timid heartedly, tried to cut my wrists.
I remember this day so vividly. I was caught in between my own darkness that couldn’t see beyond the dark and simply wanted it all to be over and the speck of light in me that whispered this wasn’t it. It felt like a giant monster was trying to pull me into the dungeons and just as it was almost about to claim me, a faint speckle of light appeared. It looked faint, weak and invisible when compared to the this monster yet it gave me a strange sense of hope. I was so overwhelmed by the strength of my darkness and executing it’s deeds seemed easier yet this seemingly weak light managed to pull me towards it.
When I was in my early twenties, I decided to go back home after my graduation, to study for the Indian Government’s competitive examinations. I was lost and making my dad proud was the only thing I knew at the time. There was nothing unusual about my days at home, however, something had changed within me. I had spent two years prior to returning home in Melbourne & America for my undergraduate studies, and navigating the world on my own terms had had more of an impact than I thought it would.
I chose to spend my days studying at the British Library in Delhi so I could create my own space that reminded me of my university days. It was a faint attempt at trying to recreate the freedom of my space, at home. I was studying for hours & hours, as one was required so from the outside, everything seemed normal. Yet, there brewed a faint storm within me. I am not sure where it came from, yet I distinctively remember its arrival. I would be reading newspapers and magazines on the daily for keeping my general knowledge for the exams up to date and one day, I saw the news of Avicii. He had committed suicide. I read along the words much like any other article, not knowing, the words were fueling the storm inside of me. The impact of this article remained with me for days, hovering in and out of my mind until it steadily dyed the color of my every day life. I remember sitting on the bed one day, looking at this painting which had been in our home for a few years. Before then, I had never really taken notice of it. It was nothing special, just a picture of fish swimming. I kept staring at the painting, and a few minutes in, a thought came to me,
“What if you killed yourself?”
I hurriedly pushed it away. Yet, it kept coming back. Staring at the fish, I began to entertain ideas of self harm. I called up Abhay, who was just a friend at the time. I needed saving but I knew it wasn’t going to come from me. I had walked into the dungeons, again. I wasn’t sure how, I wasn’t sure why but I recognized the entrance of the dungeons all too well. All my thoughts became progressively darker and darker until one day, I stood on the platform where I usually boarded the train home from the library and contemplated what it would be like if I jumped on the platform. As I began to entertain that thought, the fear of actually doing it became lesser and lesser. As I hypnotically walked deeper into the dungeons, a part of me still knew this wasn’t it. However, I was too overpowered by the darkness to acknowledge this part.
I was giving Abhay a tour of the dungeons (something I had never done before with any one) as I began to make home in them and a few days later, he decided it was best he came to India to be with me. I spent a couple of days with him, sharing glimpses of my dungeon, still scared to reveal their full extent. My darkness still felt mine, yet it felt somehow exposed. I felt it ebbing. This time around, Abhay was my faint light. I was still gripped by the darkness within, yet the appearance of the faint light was a hint that it was going to be okay. This light was a beacon of hope for me, and it just knew when I needed it the most. I went back to life at home after spending a few days with Abhay, promising to take it one day at a time. Spoiler art: I never passed the examinations (thank god!). I ended up moving to Singapore soon after, and greeted the dungeons goodbye.
The dungeons of darkness within me are no stranger to me. I still often visit them. The most recent visit I paid was a couple of years ago, when I was at Esoteric festival. I was fighting a battle in life which I wouldn’t go into detail of, but all I knew was that I had to fight, no matter the risk. Well, that battle soon expanded from the physical world to my inner world, as it often happens. I felt the storm coming on one of the nights. As I danced, I rushed to the nearest tree for an escape. I spent hours in my inner dungeon that night, and possibly some days & months too. However, by this time, I had learned that firstly my visits were temporary, so no matter how long the visit, I knew I will be walking out after the purpose of my visit was fulfilled.
I had figured out the door of the dungeon and knew the exit points. Yet, exit didn’t necessarily mean I could exit on will. It only meant there was an exit. I walked in and out of my inner dungeon for months as I was scared, fearful, anxious and questioning my actions. I don’t feel comfortable showing these emotions easily so it also meant a lot of my battle was being fought behind closed doors. Once the battle in my real life was over, I remember having had high fever the entire night as my body washed away the scars of inner & outer battle.
To this day, I take visits to the dungeon. It could be in the form of anxiety caused by overthinking or getting stuck in the past or letting fear get the better of me. I don’t fear my dungeons anymore. Don’t get me wrong, when I go in there, it can be all-consuming. Yet, with each visit, I can see how it’s one of the many places of my vast internal world. I can see how it fits into the grand architecture of my inner world. With each visit, I’ve learned to respect my dungeons. I have begun to even view them as my educational centers. Sometimes, I feel the urge to run away from them and some days I do. Yet I know, I must pay visit to them, and confront whatever it is I am trying to run away from. Once I’ve learned whatever is it I had to learn, I walk out of the dungeon, to take a stroll down the streets of other centers, like my award-center where I collect plaques of events of my confrontations, each a trophy of it’s own.
I still carry my darkness, but unlike earlier, I carry it with love. I know it’s only one of the many parts of me. It doesn’t necessarily make it easy for me to love it, but love isn’t always easy. Love is actually rarely easy. Like all other parts of me, it needs my nurturing and attention. It needs it even more so, because I’ve tried to run away from it so many times, denying it’s existence.
I see my dark & light like a rainbow. Both have so many colors and shades of colors. They all vary in intensity and appearance yet they are all me. I can’t possibly love just one color of the rainbow and deny the rest. They are all me, and if any one of them was missing, I wouldn’t be complete.
My darkness gives me courage. My light gives me hope.
My darkness teaches me lessons. My light makes me integrate the lessons.
Without one, the other can’t fulfill it’s purpose. They both are, as strange as it sounds, the best of friends.
To any one keen on studying their darkness, I highly recommend reading up on Carl Jung and his work on the Shadow Self.
If not for that, just know, you’re not alone. You might bump into me, or many of us, as you take a trip to your own dungeons!! Remember to say hi :)))
“In myths the hero is the one who conquers the dragon, not the one who is devoured by it. And yet both have to deal with the same dragon. Also, he is no hero who never met the dragon, or who, if once he saw it, declared afterwards that he saw nothing. Equally, only one who has risked the fight with the dragon and is not overcome by it wins the hoard, the “treasure hard to attain”. He alone has a genuine claim to self-confidence, for he has faced the dark ground of his self and thereby has gained himself. This experience gives some faith and trust, the pistis in the ability of the self to sustain him, for everything that menaced him from inside he has made his own. He has acquired the right to believe that he will be able to overcome all future threats by the same means. He has arrived at an inner certainty which makes him capable of self-reliance.” (Carl Jung)
