Let's all agree that COVID-19 did little to no good to everyone's mental health. 

Now, as time went by, I'm sure, I hope at least, that your mental health found some sort of haven. If not, I hope that you have the strength to hold on. 

The pandemic tested our limits. Be it productivity or our sanity, we were neck-deep in our hole. I don't know about you, but I had, and still have, a rollercoaster of a time. Either I'm at the bottom of my hole trying to make sense of time and space or I'm at the peak of my productivity doing things I had never thought I would do. 

But, through it all, I knew I was not all good up there. Even if I was productive, I used it as my escape from wallowing in my drowning, I used it as an escape from the dark corners of my head, I used it to draw a curtain over the crumbling parts of the dark world. When it seemed like there was no escape, I would often find myself taking long showers because it was a million times better than having to face any human. Human interaction became a pain, even though it was just my parents and sister. This phase also became a time when mental health of the youth and kids was paid no heed to, but all of a sudden our parents' mental health had to be put under the spotlight. I'm not accusing anyone, just stating facts born as a result of observation. 

Indian households are funny that way. 

The pandemic is like my unstable mental health - never ending. The darkness only gets darker and darker, the light goes further and further, and the tunnel gets longer and narrower, no air to breathe and no silence to think. 

You might wonder if there's an end to this, I guess I don't have an answer to that. You see, I found my haven in many things - Christ being number one, my poetry being number 2 and my best friend competing with my poetry - she's winning mostly. And, number 3, the beach. There are times when none of these make me feel safe and give me peace. The beach and the sunrise stopped serving its purpose, too. Times like these, a long hot or cold shower was paradise. And a good cry, too!

A good cry always works. 

Well, the pandemic did more bad than good to my mental health. Ranting using words somehow helps. Exotic poison to the soul. 

What's your exotic poison?  comment below :)