June has been hectic and full of upheavals. Hence the MIA status. The whole month was so eventful that I do not have to worry about contents for the next whole month. Although I am pretty sure July will come with its fair share of shocks as well. Since when did my life become uneventful anyway? I just need to relax a bit until I am back on track. Mental health-wise June hasn't been very well. Both depression and anxiety were in their full form trying to strangulate my every breath. But I guess I am getting better at handling it. Living alone has its own perks. I get to spend my alone time unleashing my monsters so I can pretend to be normal for the rest of the day. Result? My work and social life win. But my personal life has hit the rock bottom. I mean even if I peer below really hard I can't find any trace of it. Last week I had gone to Calcutta. So one morning I was rummaging through my old closet when this sudden thought came to my mind. It was only yesterday when my biggest worry in life was about scoring kickass marks in class beating my bitchy classmates and now here I am, my whole life looks like post-apocalyptic mess. The downfall was so fast I could hardly keep up. And yet I wonder, exactly where did I go wrong?

Few days back someone was shouting at me; calling me a heartless bitch. Because I never seemed to care about anything apparently. People yelling at me never goes down very well with me. My anxiety gets triggered. On the other hand, I am a sociopath. People opposing me makes me murderously acrimonious. But what I couldn't tell him that once upon a time I used to care a lot. Maybe I still do, deep down, somewhere. I don't know. But this 'I don't give a fuck' thing is not just an attitude. It's a survival strategy. It's what I had started to tell myself years ago in order to stop myself from bleeding to death. It was my band-aid. And now it has become my motto in life. I truly deeply sincerely don't give a fuck anymore.