15 January
It's so much pressure to perform.
At work, in social life, in diet, and in giving back
I take this pressure but don't deliver on anything at all. I feel it sometimes.
I am off to Churchgate for an art exhibition, where my CEO will do a ribbon-cutting ceremony. I am famously late. I was not able to catch up with my work, but then my manager asked me to come. I got so sad because I didn't prepare at all. When I did start picking outfits, it just hit me. Thank God she asked me because I had wanted to go since the time I saw that invitation. I have never been to an art exhibition that was on my bucket list.
I was just trying to do a responsible thing over a fantasy thing. I am extremely grateful to God and my colleagues, who are kind, compassionate, and driven people.
This constant anxiety to perform makes me so tired mentally, especially when your physique has given up on you.
Now my voice's like one of the other things. Is hampered. Nothing is going right yet, but somehow it is sometimes, and I am extremely grateful for those times, days, and moments.
I am doing well at my workplace; I don't cook for my mom; I am never feeling well; I am trying so hard and still not keeping up here; I am crying loudly within and shedding tears in a train looking beautiful.
I love you, and I love you, my little girl (referring to my childhood self). Sorry, it's tough, but we will figure it out together.
I thank God for everything in my life: my family, my friends, and my job, especially my team. They are nice and kind, especially my mentor; she is humble, caring, understanding, respectful, and supportive, but I feel I am not doing enough for her. I like her approach to work, and I need to learn that from her. My previous trauma makes me fear that if I am not good enough at all, I'll learn and grow, which I haven't done in the last 3 years professionally. That'd be a great thing to remember and work on; they have an amazing process for just what I wanted to do and learn. I need this passion for my work without the fear of failing, because that's what makes simple things complicated for me.
Oh, I never loved my voice enough because of people who bullied me for years for the way I sounded, my teeth, my body, and everything else they could pick on. As if life wasn't tough enough, being a girl in a home where it's a curse exists as a sad suppressed gender.
I listened to the constant curses of how life would be much better for everyone around me if I didn't exist, as if I had the choice to make.
Life was a living burden, and people like those who knew all that decided to be an ass too.
How could you? How do you live with yourself and justify that? Tell me, how?
I forgive and move on. Now we all talk like nothing happened, but whenever a trauma incident hits me, I know the root cause behind it. Now I am way too aware of myself.
Self-awareness is a blessing and a curse. I don't blame you all, because you had a journey too. Like everyone else, some people are still figuring out their ways.
After writing so much, I feel calm and peaceful. I actually didn't cry; I was just about to shed a tear, but writing helps a lot. Life is beautiful again, with all its ups and downs.
Nothing should be a personal disappointment. Nothing should be a personal achievement. Everything is just life; all you can do is try and leave it to fate.
I love you, girl. Take care.
XOXO
