Every once in a while, I have a quiet urge to step out of sight and hide in the darkness. Life has a way of moving fast — too fast, sometimes. And in that blur, I realize I’m losing myself. I get lost in all the roles I play and the responsibilities I bear. It often feels like I’m carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders when in reality, I’m barely lifting a pebble. It’s not that the burdens are heavy, it’s my own weary hands, holding on so tightly that I’ve forgotten how to let go.
So I disappear, not to escape, but to remember. I let the world move on without me, allowing myself to feel the emptiness where all the noise used to be. I lay down all the weight I’ve been holding and let go of what I must be. In that solitude, I don’t have to think about anyone else’s expectations or my constant need to prove myself. I let it all fade away and in the silence, I start to feel whole — as I am.
In that quiet, there’s a forgotten freedom — a freedom in which there is nothing to prove, no image to uphold. I am no one’s anchor or saviour. I’m simply me, with no pressure to be anything at all. I become a mystery, even to myself. It’s not that I’m giving up on the world and running away from life. I’m giving myself a chance to find myself again, to see the world with clearer eyes.
When I step back, it’s not to abandon the world but to see it differently — to remind me that not everyone’s answer is mine to find, that the world doesn’t need me to hold anything together; it will carry on, even when I’m not there. And somehow, that realization brings me back to myself.
Solitude gives a clarity that only silence can bring. There’s a quiet comfort in the way the world pauses when I’m alone as if it’s waiting for me to catch my breath. I find the parts of me that I’d forgotten in the rush. I remember that I don’t need to constantly push forward; sometimes, simply being here is enough.
And so, every once in a while, I disappear — not forever, not even for long — just long enough to find all the pieces of myself that I lost in the rush. When I finally feel whole, I surface, I come back — quieter and more at ease. And even if the world forgets, I am still here, in places only I can see.
Every once in a while, I disappear — not to leave the world behind, but to find my place in it.
I wanted to publish this on Nov 11 but damn it, I missed it by a couple of minutes.
November 11th (11/11), marks three years since I started CtrlAltGrow & started writing on Medium. Unfortunately, the podcast hasn’t progressed yet, but I guess I don’t think it’s time for me to stop.
Maybe I’m not ready yet so I need to continue working and preparing for the moment I am.
Thank you to everyone who’s supported me in the last three years since I joined Medium. I couldn’t have lasted this long without the continuous support I got from all the travellers who clocked in and read/listened to my work. We never think about the support we give others, but it means the world to them. It did to me.
So hopefully, I can evolve into something you all would be proud of!
Hi. This is Harsh, the author of this blog.
I’m glad you read my article and hope that there was something that you could resonate with at a deeper level.
I write about things that I think I’d like to tell myself. I attempt to collate all my dispersed thoughts into a single flow of thought. With every article, I try to dig into a certain thought or feeling to make it more comprehensible.
If you enjoy reading my work, I hope you can check out my podcast(I call it my audio library of thoughts), Ctrl Alt Grow, where I try to bring these words to life in the most calming, peaceful way I can.
You can find this audio library in the common music streaming platforms — https://linktr.ee/hacchuu or you can check out the podcast section of this page
