The week is over, it’s been a mess as far as it concerns me. I’ll be better next week, alright. This just wasn’t my best. 

Messed up sleep cycles and iced coffees are recipes for disaster. I woke up awfully late and moody as hell. There’s no fix. It almost feels like self sabotage. 

Happy weekend, I guess.

The secrets we keep will eat us alive in the end, won’t they? But some things don’t belong to the rest of the world. Our helplessness, our lives, and our choices aren’t always things the rest of the world will understand or agree with. So you take your secrets to your grave. Telling the world would be suicide. 

You know I’ve struggled to find my place and my purpose for the last few months. I questioned my work and my life. And wondered why I felt so empty and so low. 

Maybe it’s not such a stretch to feel this way. I changed my life; I moved, left my career, and switched industries. The last few years were a complete 360. Perhaps the emptiness is from the loss of doing something I love every day. I used to love love my work. I loved living away, away from the city, the traffic, and the stress. I loved how it protected my sanity. Maybe that’s what it is. I’m adjusting to my new life. Some days, I still miss the old one. There are days I feel like I am not good enough for my role today, even though it’s something I only undertook a little over a year ago. It’s a huge challenge that I’m taking on today, and I often forget or give myself credit for the journey I took to get here.

I had the hardest time getting out of bed, but I know if I stayed, I’d have missed out on the things I had to do. So I got on, like any other responsible, trying adult.

Yesterday I found out my industrial placement report length is 60–100 pages, or roughly 32,000 words. How on earth am I going to get it done in 20 days? So I ended up ranting in an email to my course coordinator at 4 in the morning. And now my lecturer would probably know I snitched, and she’s having a session with the entire class tomorrow, great. As if I didn’t have enough problems already, here it comes.

I also had the last of my supposed laser sessions today, which only confirmed my hatred for big salons that prey on women’s insecurities and manipulate and exploit them under false pretenses. Firstly, they never give you the full picture; it’s just a beautiful dream they sell you. Because they want to get you on board, especially if it’s a series of treatments or procedures. During the first session, my therapist was so nice, warm, and friendly, but today, on my supposed last day, she was distant and barely said anything. I felt so manipulated. But now I have to book at least 8 more sessions to get the ideal result, which is based on my research and what they initially told me was nothing close to it. Great, rip off people in the midst of the recession, adding to the burden of being a South Asian woman in today’s modern world. 

There is so much I have to stop myself from doing because I’m afraid I might get on the public radar and be an easy target with all that’s unraveled from my past and also a lot of my habits today. It’s a crushing realization that I can’t live the life I want or do the things I want because of some shit that happened. 

I love what we have so much that any hostility that threatens the connection we have absolutely wrecks me. It could be something so insignificant. A minute of silence too. And I notice it all. And I’ll be told it’s in my head, and I’ll convince myself it is because there’s already so much in my head and it makes more sense that way. 

And here’s my mother, bragging to her friends about me being a size small, while conveniently forgetting all the times she fat-shamed me.

Good morning, or is it? I think I’d have stayed in bed and snoozed all my alarms till noon if my mom hadn’t woken me up. At least that made me go to work, which is a good start.

I don’t know what the day holds. I was up past five, overthinking every little thing that was eating me up. I’ve realized I’ve begun to be more paranoid than usual. I really need to start therapy again before I start losing my mind, I think.

You know how this little desperation in you craves these conversations that would completely exhaust your worries? And when your attempts fall short, it just ends in more contempt. Which makes it worse. But not trying is quite terrible in itself; it’d just be a bunch of assumptions without any real basis. But trying and not succeeding? That hurts more.

Anyways, I could go in circles in these but that’s all for now.

I can’t shake this feeling off. I just can’t. It’s annoying the hell out of me. One minute I feel so close to you and the next I just don’t know anymore.

And sometimes you have to save in drafts the lengthy text you wanted to send because you’re sure they’ll think you’re crazy if you send it to them.

It’s been quite a morning. Mother woke me up to tell me a fire broke out in the neighborhood, and I looked out the balcony to see huge dark clouds fuming and thick smoke filling the apartment. Our initial instinct was to evacuate, so we did, only to see how extensive the fire was when we got there. We were genuinely worried due to the fire’s unpredictable movement because it appeared to be sufficiently threatening and the area was completely covered in smoke. Fortunately, everything is under control now, and we were able to get back inside the house.

And, given my fatigue from yesterday and the events of this morning, I have no energy to go to work. Yesterday was the worst; I was unable to move. Was fatigued and nauseated. This is exactly how I felt with covid, but it doesn’t feel like covid this time.  I do feel a bit careless doing this, but hey, sometimes your body is just tired, right? And you can’t be mad at it; simply allow it to rest. But at least there’s no fever, so that’s good. 

In other exciting news, I got myself a new study table yesterday. It looks super nice and is a perfect addition. I did this in the hopes of being able to concentrate more on my studies and work rather than slacking off. Let’s hope it works.