Breaking Free from your control

Dear Diary,

After accepting that I may be a person susceptible to Depression, and after coming out of the phase, I decided I would like to know thy enemy. Because knowledge is power.

So, things I did:

1. Read about Depression: I googled on Depression on ‘why me’, what triggers it, how to avoid it (if you could), and what to do when you know it’s started. It was relieving to know that it’s not like I’m weak or I did something to reach here. It’s important to not feel guilty.

2. Talked to my loved ones about it: I talked to my husband about my suspicions. And, as is the case with most loved ones, they deny that you could be having it. Then I told him about what I had read, and all the times it had consumed me. On how my extreme reactions were above average. And how it is so difficult to get over it. On how they helped me get over it. And, that they would need to do it whenever it comes knocking again. To know the signs and symptoms.

3. Simple steps, change failure to success: I realized my mind plays tricks when I’m down. It tries to downplay me and my achievements. It tries to tell me how awful I am. How waste of a human I am on this earth. How I’m a big burden and constant source of worry to my loved ones. That I don’t do anything to add value to their lives.

So, now when I’m out of my low phase, I’ve decided I’ll try to become a better version of myself. I’ll try to do all things that I admire in people OR things that I want myself to do but don’t. The reasons are usually excuses.

Instead of going into self-loathing every time I fail, I’ll try to turn the failure into success. As an example, if I did not wake up to do my exercise this morning, instead of hating myself and cursing myself all through the day, I’ll try and do something in the evening. Or, try to get back to regimen as early as possible. Try to reduce the time you’re off the regimen. Stop gloating. Start working to get rid of the gloating.

4. Cut your goals into minute miniuscule steps: Every time I fail a goal, I feel very bad. So, instead of going into that loop, I decided to cut short the goals. If I fail, I’ve a chance of getting back up again soon enough. The failure is not as big as failed to lose weight, but the failure is ‘unable to do 20 mins of cycling’.

Keeping above in mind, my goals right now are:

1. Do exercise every day: Even 5 mins or 10 mins count. It’s okay. Do it. Persistence pays.

2. Reduce time wasted: Instead of thinking and wasting time, add small activities, responsibilities to my day. Pick a book. Play a game with my son. Go for the lazy evening walk after dinner.

#OneStepAtATime

Love,

Hope

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My unknown #LeanIn circle

As I get out of the low phase of depression, I reflect on what all went by. Did I mention I went ahead and talked to the people who hurt me. The perpetrators. Each one. Individually. Head-on. It took courage. And I think it was brave of me. <Pats on my back> Whether they think so or not, but I think it takes a lot more courage to approach a person who hurt you, than to just ignore and behave that you moved on. No one ever does. That’s bullshit.

Anyhow, in all this fiasco, I found that so many girls came to my rescue. They had no stakes in the situation. They had no reasons to help me. They were not even my so-called close circle of friends with whom I spend time on a daily basis. These were people I met casually across time. They saw me in trouble, and they extended a hand. And the hand(s) helped me surface.

I am not sure what I would have done had they not come.

Group 1: The girls I spend my lunch time with. They heard me rant over and over. Probably, same thing over and over. For a month. But they never complained. They never judged. They never reacted. They gave me time to heal.

Group 2: The senior who wrote back to me on my blog post. I can’t explain how much that played a part in giving me the courage. To know that I’m not alone. To know that all the prejudices I face at work, are not a figment of imagination but actual problems faced by women all over. To know that these words are not mine reverberated but their words which are exactly my words too.

The words kept coming back to me when my dark mind was cursing me and killing me in silence. When everything in me wanted to just give up because I couldn’t fight it any longer, it helped.

Group 3: The women at work: They came to know through professional channel that I was giving up. These are women I appreciate professionally. And when they said they find me useful, that I shouldn’t give up, that it’s not me but the circumstances which are difficult, their comments stay in your head. That helps you fight the dark times.

Group 4: My Mom. I don’t think I ever remember her seeing my body language and extending a shoulder. Just like a mother. She was always the practical mother who told you that the world is never fair and pretty place. So, this act of, having a shoulder to cry on. Just to let out that it hurts. I know this shall pass, but, right now, it really hurts. To be able to say it, I don’t think I could say that to anyone else. Anyone else in the world.

Dear Diary, I would like to be available to girls who are trying to make it in the corporate world.

All women out there: If you find a woman whom you can support emotionally, do help. You don’t know how small a gesture of yours may do a lot for her.

Fightin

Dear Diary,

I admit to myself that I’ve a tendency to go into Depression. It was something I had heard of from a friend in 2009. That I had a tendency. But, it was still a remote possibility. Someone’s thought. No clinical proof. I had phases of deep emotions but I believed I’m just an overthinker who has these mood swings.

Now, enough such phases have passed for me to see the pattern. The incidents which trigger it are no special. They are just triggers. But, the phase that lasts, is long, is strenuous, and kills you. Each time. Each time when I come out of it, I feel like a Phoenix.

Like a rebirth from the ashes.

This time, as I resurface, slowly, I try to learn how I resurfaced. How I got rid of those negative emotions, those thoughts. It didn’t come naturally to an end. I practically forced myself to get out of it. I don’t know how long it could have continued.

So, I catalogue what I did to fight Mr. Depression.

1. Find a muse: As I mentioned here, I indulged myself in muses, no matter where they come from. I put it as a wallpaper on my phone, risking judgement and ire from my family members (aka son and husband!). But, so be it.

Son was kind enough to see but ignore it. Husband was flabbergasted but let me be. He silently understood.

Mind you, it doesn’t work long. But, it lasted a few days at least. You gotta take whatever breather you get.

2. Do things that make you happy: It takes huge effort to do anything. Even when I know these things makes me happy, I find myself unable to put the foot forward and do it. Simple things like going out for coffee with friends, retail therapy, or getting a massage.

I was forced to go shopping by/with my Mom. I shopped all things hot/chick/things I had stopped wearing ever since I became a Manager. Body-hugging t-shirts, plunging necklines, et al.

And I wore them to work. F you. It helped slightly. Made me feel like I’m in control of my life and not the world. I still control some bit of it.

3. Take a break: It seems like running away from the battlefield. It seems like the enemy won a point over you and was able to force you away.

But, it’s okay. I had no plans for the day. Somehow I didn’t even get any company for the day. But, I still took it. I visited Central Cottage Industries Emporium. Actually, I chanced upon it. I was just roaming the streets of Connaught Place Janpath. Looking for a cafe with a large window facing the street.

As I got out of the McDonald’s (chosen purely for the view!), I faced the wrong side of the turn and there I saw it nestled behind the trees. I had wanted to find it and go there since a long time. I never thought I’ll find it like this.

The 3 hrs spent in there were most peaceful and energizing ever.

Again, the peace, the happiness, the relief, doesn’t last long. There are lapses. Days when the negative thoughts come back and you feel like you’re back to square one. But, keep at it. No other choice..

3. Pamper yourself: I bought flowers. I had been wanting to keep flowers at my workplace.

The battle continues but I can already see the light coming at the end of the tunnel.

I am trying to face my fears. Talking it out with the perpetrators. Doing what I have to do. Making choices. Defining myself the way I want to be defined at the end of my life.

One step at  a time.

-Hope

 

 

 

 

Bruised Butterflies

Dear Diary,

All humans are born pure… beautiful… simple. Each containing a ball of energy.

Slowly, and steadily, the world teaches them to talk, to listen, to sing, to understand. And the understanding starts to twist as the experiences add on.  You start to learn hatred, lies, jealousy, enmity, revenge, ambition, success, desire, and what not.

And just like that, the dust starts to gather on that simple ball of pure energy.

As time passes, somewhere down the line, the lining of dust becomes so thick that you can no longer feel the warmth of the ball of energy. You cannot see the light. You cannot hear it making any sounds. It’s only the sounds of the external world which you can now hear. Which are now leading you. Only the experiences and the outside world which is contributing to your decisions, to your actions, to your thoughts. To your sense of being. To your sense of right and wrong. To your sense of worth. To your sense of good and bad.

I bought this piece of metal art sometime ago from Trade Fair. But, as with art pieces, each piece is unique. The one we got delivered had more bruised butterflies than the original. (There are shiny glass pieces (which look silver in the picture) and the black is blazed glass, which I signify with bruised). The piece doesn’t look as pretty as we thought it would, to suit our drawing room. But, we kept it. It’s still hanging in our drawing room.

I have named it ‘Bruised Butterflies’.

I think God sent me a beautiful soul, with beautiful colors, shining bright. As life passes, it gets bruised and dusty.

Now, it is to be seen, that by the time my life comes to an end, am I able to keep any of the colors intact. Or, the bruises take over so much that no colors from original is left visible. The bruises get so brutal, so nasty, that no matter how much you would like, you can’t see what once was.

-Hope

 

One step at a time

Enough sulking. Enough cribbing. Doesn’t suit me. So, one step at a time.

Let’s deal with Mr. Depression first. I can’t fight the negative thoughts once they take over. So, what did I do?

1. Find a happy memory.

I’m addicted to Korean romcoms these days. And, ‘Romance is a bonus book’ is on. And I found this one.

So, this is the eye-candy of the month, flavor of the season.

Now, every time I look at the idiot at work, I’ll imagine this guy’s smile and let happy thoughts soak me in.

#BringItOn

 

Find my pivot

Dear Diary,

Weeks have passed and yet I find it hard to face the world. Does it happen that a seemingly small incident shakes you so much that it breaks all that you built? I tried taking leaves from work, hiding in my closet, retail therapy, meeting my loved ones (not talking about the incidence, though), facing the person (faking it, of course!). I am unable to move on. In moments of silence, I find myself back reflecting on all I heard, on all I did for these people, and the way I was treated in return. How easy it was for them to throw me under the bus, to forget what all I did and focus on the wrong I did. How all the people I trusted, worked, laughed with, cared for – got together to put me down.

Am I saying all were wrong and I was right and innocent? No.

But, am I accepting that what was done to me was fair? No. I wish all feedback had come to me in a different manner. In a better setting. In a more amicable manner.

But words, like arrows once shot, can’t be changed. And, I regret saying those words. I would like to give the benefit of doubt to the other person that they regret it too. But I know they don’t regret doing what they did. Rather they wanted to plan it better.

And the thought makes moving on, overlooking, putting it all behind me, impossible.

This is not the first time I’ve found that guys can be extremely harsh when angry against you. They don’t need to get violent.

Each time, I could move on because I could move them out of my life. Out of the sphere of people who matter to me or whose opinions matter. But, here the people were in a position where their feedback/opinions mattered. I’m not able to let go. I should be able to take the actionable feedback out of this episode and leave the rest, but…

Will this be what breaks me? Will this be the bump I’m unable to cross? Have I hit my limit? For now, I find no answers coming from within? I don’t know what I need to do differently to not let this happen again. I did everything based on my intuition and with positivity towards people. If I’m supposed to act not based on my intuition, to not care about people and still work with them, then I don’t know how to make any decisions.

I can chose to give Management up. I had chosen to give it up but I’ve been asked to think again. I’ve been reminded of things I enjoyed in this path. But when I think of taking this up again, I find my mind mauled by all the stress and uncertainty and negativity again. Is that a sign that I should indeed give it up?

Too many people telling me not to. That I was doing a good job. That I’m being too harsh on myself.

But I can’t find my strength. For anything. My confidence in myself is shaken and I can’t find my pivot. I want to cry it out but my tears refuse to come. I hear my heart crying silently and aching for it to vent out but unable to do so.

I don’t know if I understand this world at all. I seem to speak a different language. The world understands it very differently than me. I wish to find a world where my words mean exactly what I intend them to be.

O God, help me, if you haven’t given up on me.

-Hope

Of anger

Dear Diary,

I am angry. I have been angry since some time now. And I realise that once I reach a peak of anger, due to whatever reason, then I find my anger peaking at small instances too. So much so, that I find myself exploding. But, I keep myself in check. But it has an effect on my mind, my body. When you don’t let out a strong emotion, and bottle itself inside, it takes a toll on your mind and health. The key is to grow mature and not let any incidence cause a strong emotion.

What am I angry about… I am angry at the toxic place this world is. I am angry at all the fakes that exist in this world. In my world. How our world has become a place which is more interested in causing worries, despondency and misery in people, than happiness or warmth or peace. There are more people who want to hurt you or mock you or put you down. There are very few people who want to see you smile. This is not the situation in my world. This is the 2019 world we live in.

1. Fake sense of belonging: My Dad was sick. He needed to be hospitalised. I knew it wasn’t anything major but it shook me. I went to see him. I broke down. Major melodrama. Probably, all that had been hurting me since past few days, everything got together and I cried like a baby crying in front of her Dad. It was a moment when I realised my Dad was getting old. We all know our parents will die before us. But it’s an eventuality. You don’t think of it as something happening anytime soon. When he fell sick, it hit me, the eventuality just became more real and more near than far.

I asked him to take leaves. Take care of himself. He promised. He felt how sad I was. But, he continued doing the same old things that he had been doing. There’s no change. He had a rebound within the week. I was not informed. A relative called and informed me while I was driving home from work after the day.

There’s nothing else which makes you feel more like an outsider than these small gestures where you’re shown that you’re not a part of the family. This fake sense of caring for me by not informing me, makes me want to take revenge. I want to not talk, cut all ties, not care or call them to ask how he is. I know I shouldn’t. I know I’ll regret it once they’re gone. That I wasted my time. But, this is unfair.

2. Fake sense of respect: I’m not yet ready to talk about this. But if you’re in a position where respect is critical to your co-existence with certain individuals, once you realise the respect is fake, the wheels stop moving. And what angers me more is that the same behaviour, if was shown by a male Manager, it would have been acceptable to them. But coming from a woman, it was too much for the egos to handle.

3. Fake sense of appreciation/accomplishment: Pretty much same as above. But usually comes from your superiors than your subordinates. The appreciation and respect for what you bring to the table is there only till you agree with their opinions/ways of working. The moment you’ve a difference of opinion or voice your disagreement, you are shown ‘who’s the boss’. In various ways. You pretty much need to rebuild your place from scratch. All your hard work goes down the drain and you need to rebuild your position as an asset by doing hard work. To make them realise you didn’t reach here because of their favours. To make them realise you’re not so easy to push aside. However, if I was a guy, a casual retort or rebuttal over an evening of drinks and everything would have been back to normal.

4. Fake sense of equality: My husband is a short tempered guy. While he tries his best to keep his temper in check, if the switch ever goes off, I usually go silent. I let the moment pass. Whether I believe it was my fault or his, I let the moment of temper pass. But if ever, I’m on a short fuse myself, at the moment, he doesn’t take any time to voice that I’m not to dare. I’m not to dare raise an eyebrow or my voice. It reminds me of the scene in the movie ‘dil dhadakne do’. The scene where husband says ‘I allowed her to build her business.’ ‘Allowed’. Why is it that I’m allowed all equality as long as it suits him. But if I ever try to feel equal by fighting with you, or disagreeing with you, or not doing what you expected me to do, then I’m shown my place.

At the moment, I feel like exploding against all males around me. About picking a banner and becoming a woman who fights against all things patriarchal. Vehemently. I want to just take revenge. If that means getting addicted to cigarette (which you hate), then so be it. If that means abusing my powers as a manager to make things difficult for you till you quit, then so be it. If it means killing you like a vamp in James Bond movie style, then so be it. If it means objectifying men, like men have done to women for ages, then so be it.

I feel like proving it to them, and to myself, that I’m no way less than you.

Let the ire of women consume the world and let this all burn to hell.