I feel like a racehorse in a world without racetracks. ~Sylvia Plath
Feeling like a misfit has been a constant in my life for as long as I can remember. It’s not just about feeling different—it’s as though the world around me wasn’t made for someone like me. Throughout my life, from school to university, and now at work, I’ve always felt like an outsider. I watch others live their lives from a distance, with a heavy heart. It’s as if I’m observing life unfold for everyone else while I remain stuck on the sidelines, unable to fully join in.
This feeling isn’t just about fitting in. For me, it’s about surviving in a world that doesn’t seem to understand what’s happening inside me. Clinical depression and social anxiety have been my constant companions, turning every interaction into a challenge. While others effortlessly connect and form friendships, I feel the weight of every glance, every word, as if they carry more significance and pressure for me than they do for anyone else.
In school, when others were laughing and bonding, I often felt invisible. My mind was a whirlwind of doubt and fear, making it nearly impossible to connect with anyone. This sense of invisibility only deepened as I progressed through A-levels and then university. Each step felt like stumbling through the dark, with the gap between me and everyone else widening over time. I poured all my energy into trying to fit in, but it always left me exhausted, drained, and feeling even more disconnected. The connections I desperately sought seemed to slip through my fingers, as though we were speaking entirely different languages.
Now, in the workplace, the challenges haven’t lessened. They’ve become even harder. Work friendships feel very different, and many people already have strong bonds formed in university or even earlier. As colleagues easily form connections, often built on shared histories, I find myself retreating into my mind, overwhelmed by the pressure of simply being around people. It’s not that I don’t want to connect—I do. But the thought of it is tangled in anxiety and self-doubt, creating walls I can’t seem to break through. Each day feels like a balancing act, where even the smallest misstep might send me tumbling into isolation.
Yet, amidst all this, there have been a few bright spots...friends I’ve made at different points in my life. Some from school, a few from university, and even a couple at work. These people, while they may not fully understand me, have made an effort to connect. They’ve shown patience, care, and a willingness to be there for me. Their presence has been a light in the darkness, something to hold onto when everything else feels too heavy to bear.
More often than not, I find myself alone, not by choice, but because it feels like the only option. When the world outside becomes too much, I retreat into myself, burying the heavy emotions I carry. Some days, the weight of it all is so crushing that I can barely function. My social anxiety makes every interaction feel like a minefield, and depression pulls me deeper into my own thoughts.
There have been countless nights where I’ve sat alone in the dark, feeling like the world is moving on without me. Tears would fall, not because I wanted to cry, but because I didn’t know what else to do with the pain inside. I’d get lost in my thoughts, trapped in a maze of worries and fears that I couldn’t escape. Whether at school, university, or now at work, I’ve always felt like I was on my own, even when surrounded by people. It’s as though no one ever truly sees the real me, as if I’m on a different wavelength that others can’t or won’t tune into.
But even in this isolation, I’ve found a certain strength. Therapy has been another source of light. Through it, I’ve started to understand myself better, recognizing that true strength and connection come from within. I’ve learned the importance of being my own best friend, realizing that the most vital connection is the one I have with myself. This understanding has become a powerful anchor, grounding me when the world feels too chaotic and overwhelming.
Maybe one day, I’ll find people who get me on that deeper level, who can walk beside me not just as friends, but as kindred spirits. For now, I remind myself that being a misfit doesn’t mean I’m lost. It means I’m on a journey that others might never understand, but that doesn’t make it any less important. My path is my own, and though it’s been marked by struggle, it’s also been marked by resilience. And that is something no one can ever take from me.
~Usman
