The streets have quieted. The glitter has been swept away. Costumes, yesterday bursting with color and life, now hang limp in closets, disposed in the garbage bins, dismantled or washed away from the ‘jump up’. Carnival is gone, and with it, the euphoria that for a fleeting moment drowned out reality.
For many, carnival is more than a cultural celebration—it becomes an escape. The rhythm, the movement, the intoxicating sense of freedom all conspire to silence the noise within. For a few days, the heavy weight of life carried is forgotten, where one’s truth of reality is lost in the crowd where individuals who play ‘mask’, can convince themselves – just for a moment—that everything is fine. But then the music stops. And there’re left with themselves again.
The silence now feels deafening, the emotions attempted to be buried with the beat, the fanfare the noise – rises to the surface with surprising force. For some, the post-carnival crash feels even heavier than before. It’s as if they borrowed happiness on credit and now the bill has come due. They find themselves waiting, already longing for the next fix, the next high, the next distraction to be numbed again. And beneath it all, a quiet truth whispers: there’s something deeper that needs ‘your’ attention.
This reality is not weakness nor failure, nor is it presented with judgement, it’s the human body’s defense mechanisms to deal with the heaviness within and without. We all have or have had psychological pain points: unmet needs, unresolved grief, feelings of inadequacy, shame, loneliness – the list is endless. But when we avoid facing these and keep reaching for temporary highs, the unresolved pain accumulates leading to our detriment psychologically and physically.
The escape has a profound and very real effect on the brain. The sensory overload—the bright colors, pulsing music, constant movement, physical closeness, and even the alcohol—floods the brain’s reward system. Dopamine, the “feel good” chemical, surges, creating a euphoric high that temporarily mutes the psychological distress individuals carry. At the same time, stress hormones like cortisol drop, and the prefrontal cortex—the part of the brain responsible for rational thought and self-reflection—quietly steps aside, letting the emotional, impulsive limbic system take the lead. This shift feels liberating in the moment, because the usual voice of caution and restraint is muted. But it is also a risky state. With the prefrontal cortex subdued and the limbic system in control, individuals are more likely to make decisions based purely on emotion and impulse—without thinking through the consequences.
In this state, it becomes easy to overstep personal boundaries, engage in reckless behaviors, or say and do things which later leads to regret – all in the name of “feeling good now.” For a moment, there is a sense of liberating freedom. Freedom from the weight of responsibilities, freedom from self-judgment, freedom from the loneliness or fear individuals try not to think about.
It is here, fully intoxicated by the now. But here’s the truth: the brain isn’t built to sustain that state indefinitely. When the music stops and the sensory stimulation fades, the dopamine levels crash back down—often sinking even lower than before. That’s why, after the high wears off, the feeing of being deflated and exposed springs up again – it never completely goes away. What feels like freedom in the moment is often just another layer of chains waiting to tighten when the music stops.
While the temporary quieting of the mind feels like a break from burdens, it also open the door to behaviors that exacerbate what individuals try so hard to bury creating a cycle that becomes harder to break each time.
That aching emptiness that creeps in after the party, is the mind and body’s way of sending a message: IT’S TIME TO TEND TO THE WOUNDS UNDERNEATH. The escape, while real and pleasurable, is temporary. The pain it masked doesn’t go away. It waits—patient and persistent—beneath the glitter and the feathers, quietly calling you to face it, to heal it, to find something deeper and more lasting than the next fleeting high.
It’s not weakness avoiding the truth. Pain is scary. Looking at what’s beneath the surface might mean confronting childhood hurts, buried truths, relationship fractures, financial stress, spiritual emptiness—or all of it. Denial and fear show up as protection mechanisms, saying: Let’s not go there. Let’s just keep avoiding, let’s keep burying. Unfortunately, denial keeps individuals stuck in a loop, waiting for the next high. Healing happens only when individuals take the courage to look beneath.
You may feel trapped in despair, but you are not alone—and it is not as hard as you think to start healing. You don’t have to climb this mountain in a day. You don’t even need to know all the answers or have a clear plan right now. You only need to take one step in the right direction.
If you are to be honest, you want to feel better. That longing you feel is your inner wisdom telling you: there is more to life than this cycle of highs and crashes. There is nothing wrong with celebrating life. But you were made for more than moments of borrowed joy. You deserve to feel whole—not just for a few days, but for a lifetime. Don’t let fear convince you that healing is too hard or that you’re too broken. You are not. You are capable of becoming more than what you’ve been settling for.
Let the silence after the music not be a curse, but an invitation—a quiet call to finally care for what’s under the surface. The next level you’re longing for? It’s waiting for you. Not in the next fete, but in the courageous step you take today.
And you don’t have to take it alone. If you’re ready—or even if you’re not sure you’re ready—reach out. Help is here. Hope is possible. Healing is real.
You deserve it.