Off this heat

It says that the meaning of my name is Hope in the centralized universe. What hope? Mostly hopeless to myself lol. Sheesh.

Work just came pouring in. Like hailstones as big as Hulk on my head.

I just can’t process it. To see my co-worker can just go on tapping on his keyboard looking intently into whatever he is processing (updating his JD, actually), and me with this half head broken sitting next to him.

But then again, others perceive me probably the same as he. Working so hard when her brain isn’t cooperating that she has to blog a post to let the heat flow.

I need 5 minutes to myself. Of off everything.

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Jousting haystacks on needles

Sleep was bad last night. Work has been overworked. I draw the line between what I have to do and what I am unable to do. People are emotional. Men adapting like horrid aunts in manipulating words to just you. I don’t fucking care.

Have I been working late for weeks. Sorting out needles in haystacks. Tired. Handling people, projects and paperwork. I deserve my weekends and time off so you are not allowed to judge me. Maybe it’s just that you don’t have anything to do that you have time to point your 1 finger at other people.  Don’t forget you have the other 4 fingers pointing back at you dude.

With love,

Sleepless in the Office (And ultimately remain as an asshole)

 

The curse of INFJ

I am brash. Self critical. Self deny. Feeling unhappy is a constant cycle. Shout. Rage. Tempestuous. Ugly cry. Wall face. Fear to fall. Fearless when done. Inner conflict. Suffering. Guilt. Burden. Latching off. Independence. Numbness. Care. Love.

So much love. So much pain. So much guilt. Hate rejection. Hate hate.

Sitting duck.

Please come to bed with me, and place your hand over my head to keep me safe. Because I’m tired of this cycle.

I need to take a break from myself.

Surprise myself, so I will.

There is a high school reunion coming up where I had been on the fence about.

DH has always been my savior when it comes to socializing, especially when it comes to mingling among our school friends ever since we were together. I would enclose myself within myself and sit back just watching him and join in as and when it feels comfortable. Even when it gets to parties at home. I cook and provide, he invites and PRs the party on. Yeah, I’m boring as shit. Lol. But I’m fine with boring. At least until this reunion thing came up. And he can’t make it.

Circle of friends start popping in and out. Asking, pushing for registration money and all. At first, I didn’t have it – the money. Then I found out that the party premise would be at another friend’s newly opened business premise where most people know how savage that person is at business. No compromise on cost. I plainly look at it as conflict of interest. That just completely throws me off the board.

However, these girls kept asking. I considered although I had been pacing all these things in my brain. Although I’m as normal and grounded as I can be, I always feel like I sit on a certain par in other people’s eyes. Like there’s a certain standard to it. From physical and the way I speak. There is an expectation.

So I look myself in the mirror. 13 kilos overweight. At 42, with still very bad complexion. Triad illness. Unkempt. Possible bad BO. Rundown face for not smiling for the last 42 years of it. Bad financial state. Still depend on my parents to run my children around. Out of shape and mildly depressed when people ask me out for Zumba Strong. I am embarrassed with myself. But yet, there it is. Still.

I have no achievements. No ambition other than the wants of being on the beach, own home, travel. Everything else seems sufficient. Like Meredith Grey. Just moving in being suffice if it makes any sense at all.

Perhaps, that was the bottom of it all. Put aside all excuses I have been giving about how everything will exhaust me. How everyone will expect some connection and having to repeat stories of my life, vice versa, to smile and pretend like I’m happy when I’d be so exhausted then. I need a safe refuge. Even the girls who say it, that I will be protected, don’t seem to be who I thought they would be.

Contradicting. My brain falls into waterfalls of self-doubt. In all kindness toward myself, I know I had done my best for myself, taking care of my own heart and finding out if my heart was really in to attend it, without a safe refuge. So I’ve let the dateline pass, therefore I won’t be attending the Jubilee Reunion.

Not attending would be, a gift, for me.

Note: With no intention whatsoever, I will not be running through this blog before posting. Just because I want to surprise myself with whatever that I let write from these fingers on the keyboard.

Paving your way through a struggle

It takes a while to begin something. Some can have abrupt ends. Some take time to end and hurt like hell when it does. But there is only one undeniable thing when it does; it gives you a new beginning.

You will learn to walk away from all the baggage labelled pain, regret, anger, worry etc that you’ve been hauling around. You will learn to sift through what you need and move on. This inner strength that makes you be decisive, able to say no, and not stay in the same form of cycle again.

The bend on the road can change. Sometimes it takes you to be the first one to pave its way.

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I have no title for this

Ed Sheeren is slowly singing at me about loving me even at 73. My eyes are falling tired even though I am fresh in the office. Not willing to pick up my face to face M. I just can’t deal with her; won’t deal anymore.

She has been through this ordeal in January. Then it was medical leave after another, it became 2 months. You can’t expect me to be emotionally available when after all, I have said what I needed to say months before that. So when things started happening, you have to learn to pick your pieces up by yourself. I just… can’t. I need to save that little for me. And I know I need it more than you do.

Of all the people, Pink talks more sense to me. I need to reconnect myself. I’m all over the place.

So in this private space, I am now on metformin. Based on my HPA1C test, I have a Type 2 Diabetes. I also have PCOS, hypertension with 3 episodes of TIA. Have been getting boils and as at last Thursday, a bubble of something at the edge of my inner thigh/buttock with no sign of it shrinking or having a point to categorize it as a boil.

The doctor tells me I need to get to a gynae if there is no improvement or if it causes me pain. It could be a cyst. That was also when she explained that I needed to get on metformin because the lack of insulin is making my skin break so that is why I have been getting boils for the last few months.

DH doesn’t know about the added medication.

I feel like crap.

Get me a corner for me to cry please.

So, yes, really M. I’ve moved on. I am not wiling to be there for you when you self-sympathize yourself on things that you should have done. Because I need to get hold of whatever that I have for me. That would be the most unselfish thing I can do for myself.

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Now I need cigaretts.