Beyond the Numbers

Every day, the world publishes statistics.

Over 280 million people globally suffer from depression, according to the World Health Organization. Nearly one in three women experiences emotional or psychological abuse in relationships during their lifetime. India alone recorded over 130,000 suicides in a single year, as cited by the National Crime Records Bureau. These numbers appear in reports, are discussed at international conferences, and occasionally trend on social media for a day or two.

But statistics do not breathe. They do not tremble at three in the morning. They do not sit at the edge of a bed and try to remember why they should stay alive for one more sunrise.

Behind every number is a real human being who once laughed, loved, trusted, and dreamed.

Behind every figure is a room where someone has cried into a pillow, a bathroom where someone stared blankly into a mirror, a phone screen glowing in the dark as someone typed a final goodbye and erased it again and again.

This is the true story of one such life.

Not the story of a celebrity who survived and published a memoir. Not the story of a billionaire who “overcame struggle.” Not a dramatic headline of tragedy and recovery.

Just a girl. Ordinary. Quiet. Invisible.

A girl who, at one point, almost disappeared and then made the smallest, bravest decision to stay.

This is her real story.

The Girl with Too Many Dreams 

She was born into a typical middle-class Indian household. Her parents worked hard, providing her with education, food, and safety. By society’s standards, she had everything she needed. But there was one thing missing in the air she grew up in: emotional expression.

In her home, love was expressed through responsibility, not affection. Emotions were treated as a weakness, especially for a girl. There was no space for vulnerability. No room for sadness. No permission to speak about pain.

As a child, she was sensitive. She felt everything deeply: joy, sadness, fear, hope. She wrote poems in small notebooks and hid them under her mattress. She talked to the moon. She believed the sky would listen even if the world didn’t.

Teachers called her “a disciplined, obedient girl.”

Relatives praised her for being “quiet and well-behaved.”

No one ever asked her what she felt.

She learned very early that in order to survive; she must minimize herself. Her voice. Her needs. Her emotions.

Psychologists identify this as emotional conditioning when children learn to suppress true feelings to maintain harmony. Research shows that such emotional suppression can lead to adult patterns of people-pleasing, low self-esteem, and difficulty forming healthy boundaries.

At the time, she didn’t know any of this.

She only knew one thing: Be good. Be silent. Be perfect.

When Love Became a Cage

Like many young women, she dreamed of love. Not just any love, but the kind shown in novels and films passionate, understanding, loyal. She longed to be chosen, valued, and finally seen.

And one day, she was.

He entered her life like light through a cracked window. He praised her intelligence. He admired her depth. He called her special. He made her feel like she finally mattered.

“You are different.”

“You are my peace.”

“I’ve never met anyone like you.”

For someone who had lived feeling invisible, those words felt like oxygen.

But love, when mixed with control, slowly becomes poison.

At first, it was subtle.

He asked why she needed to speak to male friends.
He questioned her clothes.
He mocked her dreams.
He discouraged her independence.
He criticized her confidence.

Then it became normal.

She stopped talking to friends to avoid conflict. She changed her clothes, her plans, her words. She apologised even when she wasn’t wrong. She tried harder. Loved more. Hoped deeper.

Yet nothing was ever enough.

According to the World Health Organization, emotional abuse includes constant criticism, isolation, humiliation, control, and manipulation. It is one of the most pervasive yet invisible forms of violence, especially against women.

Unlike physical abuse, there are no visible scars. Just deep internal wounds.

And those wounds were growing.

She began doubting her intelligence. Her beauty. Her worthiness. Her right to exist.

The girl with dreams had begun to disappear slowly, silently, obediently.

Living With Invisible Bruises

Outside, she still looked “fine.”

Inside, she was falling apart.

She lost interest in studies, hobbies, friendships, and even in herself. Her mind became a constant battlefield of negative thoughts:

“You are worthless.”
“You are a burden.”
“You don’t deserve happiness.”
“Everyone would be better without you.”

She couldn’t sleep. When she slept, she had nightmares. When she woke up, she felt exhausted. Eating felt like a task. Smiling felt like an act.

According to Harvard Medical School, depression is linked to chemical imbalances in the brain, especially neurotransmitters such as serotonin and dopamine. But trauma, emotional abuse, prolonged stress, and abandonment significantly increase that risk.

Her depression was not sudden. It was a slow, suffocating fog that wrapped around every thought.

Yet no one noticed.

She still attended classes.
She still replied to messages.
She still said, “I’m okay.”

This is the cruel nature of silent suffering.

The most broken people often look the most normal.

The Night She Almost Disappeared

One night changed everything.

She was alone. The room was dark. The world felt distant, unreal. Her mind had reached the end of hope.

She wasn’t looking for attention. There were no messages, no dramatic gestures, no cries for help.

There was only one thought:

“I am tired of existing...Not tired of life...tired of pain.”

Many people believe that those who attempt to end their life are selfish or impulsive. This is false. Most people who reach that point feel like they are doing the world a favour by disappearing.

That night, she looked at her phone for the last time and saw a very old message she had once sent to her younger cousin:

“Promise me you will always choose life...no matter how painful it gets.”

She had forgotten she ever wrote it.

But the words did not forget her.

Something broke inside her and for the first time in months, she cried. Not because she was weak, but because hope had returned for a brief second.

That night, she made a tiny decision.

Not a life decision. Not a future plan.

Just this: “I will stay alive today.”

Sometimes, the smallest decision is the strongest act of survival.

Healing Is Brutal, Not Beautiful

Healing is often shown as a peaceful journey: morning yoga, affirmations, glowing skin, spiritual enlightenment.

Reality is more honest.

Healing is:

• Waking up and wishing you hadn’t
• Missing the person who hurt you
• Blaming yourself
• Relapsing into old thoughts
• Feeling strong one day and broken the next
• Learning to live again from zero

She began with small, almost invisible steps:

• Drinking enough water
• Sitting in the sunlight
• Writing one sentence
• Blocking toxic connections
• Reading about psychology
• Listening to mental health podcasts
• Seeking support communities online

She discovered something powerful through research and self-study.

She was not broken.
She was wounded.
And wounds can heal.

According to the American Psychological Association, resilience is not an inborn talent. It is a process built through self-awareness, coping strategies, support, and purpose.

Without knowing it, she was rebuilding herself not the old version, but a stronger, wiser one.

From Victim to Voice

At some point in her healing journey, she made a brave decision.

She would no longer remain silent.

She began writing about emotional abuse. About depression. About surviving suicide. About self-worth. About womanhood. About healing.

She shared her words anonymously at first. No face. No name.

And people responded.

“Your words are my story.”
“I thought I was the only one.”
“You saved me today.”

This is called Post-Traumatic Growth when individuals use their pain as a foundation for purpose and meaningful action.

Her suffering had transformed into service.

For the first time, her voice mattered. Not because she was perfect. But because she was honest.

She realized her life was not saved by luck.

Her life was saved so that she could become light for others.

A Society That Silences Pain

Her story is not rare.

It is the story of:

• Girls raised to adjust instead of speaking.
• Boys taught to hide their emotions.
• Students crushed by comparison.
• Women trapped in toxic relationships.
• People suffering in silence because asking for help is considered weakness.

India still considers mental health a taboo topic. Therapy is “for crazy people.” Depression is labelled as “overthinking.” Emotional abuse is dismissed as “normal couples’ fights.”

According to the National Mental Health Survey of India, more than 14% of the population suffers from mental disorders requiring intervention. Suicide remains one of the top causes of death among young Indians.

And yet, we do not talk.

Her story is not only about survival.

It reflects a society that needs to learn how to listen.

Lessons From the Darkness

Through her journey, she learned powerful truths:

• Love never asks you to shrink
• Silence can destroy faster than noise
• Sensitivity is power, not weakness
• You can outgrow your past
• Healing is non-linear
• Survival is courage
• Your story matters

She didn’t erase her scars.

She honoured them.

Final Message to the Reader

If you are reading this while carrying invisible pain, please hear this:

You are not weak.
You are not dramatic.
You are not alone.

There is a version of you in the future who is proud you stayed.

Stay for that person.

Stay for the story that is still unfolding.

Do not close the book before the best chapter arrives.

The Most Powerful Choice

She did not become famous.
She did not become rich.
She did not find a perfect life.
She found something far more powerful:

“She chose to live. And she helped others choose it too.”

In a world that makes disappearing seem easier than healing, choosing life is the bravest rebellion of all.

This is not just a story.

This is a real testimony of human strength.

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