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.
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.
Sleepless in the Office (And ultimately remain as an asshole)
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.
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.
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.
I can’t open my eyes. Can’t keep them open. No blink or bling can do it.
In all fogginess I have lost myself. Little struggles. Refusal to be blindsided so I chose to stop looking. The difference in me treading along now is it is easier now than it was before. Letting go is easier. But I owe you an apology for being so…
I know my entries has been sporadically too high or too low. Each time I tell myself I have mental health issues, I realize that I am just an unhappy INFJ. And this unhappiness is common. I try not to wonder why but it helps to realign me back into some kind of perspective after re-realizing unhappy INFJ. Not just a figment of my own imagination.
So yesterday morning, I had this sudden this tap water flowing cry out of no apparent reason. They just kept coming and coming. In the office. Breakdown. Tissues encrusted all over me. It was sobbing cry, close to being to the ugly cry. I was missing friends. And after months of silence, I lunched with the beautiful Ms Brown.
“I think I’m sad. I’ve been sad for a looong time,” I said as my eyes glazed over the restaurant window.
She looked onto me, just pouring with emotion. Momentarily shaking her head. “But you can’t live it unhappy. You shouldn’t have to go through the same thing again. You deserve good.”
Yes, Ms Brown. You are right. My astral movements has been off the charts. You are asking me to go through the exercises I asked you to do when you were going through your rough patch. You are also making me yearn for savoury food and a whole lot of chicken requirement in my diet. And smoked salmon.
Just one step at a time. I will congregate with the rest of the human race and sort myself out again. Even when my own imagination can’t put myself there.
This wallowing is comforting. Yes, I know it’s bad for me. Such fear to find the courage again. To be okay without having the need for validation. Fearsome.
The Daily Prompt: Courage | Compromise | Constant | Encrusted |Conversant | Astral | Congregate | Imagination
What is sadness, despair and anger that I cloak this blog with? Is it really INFJ so-out-there? Could it be simply the lack of sleep I got last night – falling asleep only at 5.30am-7.25am; simply waking up because I had to work?
I for one, have no one to talk to. No adult who could comprehend me, like the beck and call of every need for validation or just to share some thought in my head be it delirious or magical. Neither would the adult tolerate the refusal to budge doing something against my norm, nor change the wind in my spirit to try.
Yes. My spirit dampens me. Sometimes it sucks my energy down to my buttonhole. I suck at supporting myself. It’s a whirl in layers of onion. Like, thick ones. The layers can’t find the core. Along the way, I lose my funny and my own self-thoughtfulness. It would all bring me to blabbering my feelings to a
n unfortunate colleague who happen to be there when I could be doing the tons of fixing this office. I fail so much.
Nevertheless, I feel better after this rampage.