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Breathe

I am my own superwoman.

It's Friday. I took the afternoon off because I am slowly but surely crumbling under everything that is coming down hard on me. And I hate it.

I was looking at Shelty fall asleep earlier today and inevitably thought: "If only life was as easy as his." I know he's a happy dog but here I am trying to inundate myself with positive vibes.

Most days, I'm copacetic. I have yet to reach a point where I'm desperately looking to blame someone/something for the situation I'm been forced into. I'm not convinced I am culpable for these circumstances but I do wish for this trying period to pass by quicker, quietly.

After nursing a flu for two whole weeks, I am re-settling into my workout routine. My immune system took a harsh hit and it's going to take a while to recover the strength I painstakingly built. I am, surprisingly, okay with that. I know I'll get there someday.

Having spent the first three weeks of January dealing with disgusting people and a nasty flu, working out never felt so good. In times like this, it is a convenient way to take my mind off things. But as soon as I'm done and I'm rolling my mat, that immediately unlocks the gates to tremendously stressful thoughts.

People are disgusting.

When the year began, I went through an unbelievable encounter with a so-called friend. Funnily enough, I was having conversation with someone where I mentioned the term friend is so overused these days that the definition is blurred.

Anyway, this encounter was a brutal wake-up call. Through it all, I was guilt-tripped into feeling sorry that I took no sides when this friend subtly insisted I take hers. And that if I didn't do as she suggested, because she wanted the best for me, then we shouldn't be friends at all.

That's what happened - we stopped being friends all together.

And no, I don't feel bad anymore.

Then yesterday, I had to deal with a rotten egg in the office who, once again, portrayed her deep-seated ways as the ideal method to reach her goals. Normally, I would be okay with that because I've completely given up hope that this workplace is truly meant for the community. I mean, I always end my discussion with "If you're okay with it, so am I," because it makes my job easier.

But for some reason, I felt emboldened to stand against this person who is so fixated on her old-fashioned ways yesterday.

I tried to hold a professional debate about the topic at hand but she lost it. Her body tensed and she shuffled in her seat more frequently. The tone of her voice thinned and she raised her volume. And finally, she threw her nasty finger at me the way teachers used to do so when reprimanding students in schools. At the end of it, she asked, "So are you convinced now?"

"Oh, please don't try to convince me," I replied.

I was disappointed that someone in her position could not hold a proper discussion. But it also reminded me why I hate this place so much.

Drea applauded me for making a stand in front of someone with so much authority. Well, the very same person publicly declares that she doesn't care about people like me - so there's no reason for me to be so mindful of her opinions either.

I don't feel bad. Instead, I was reminded once again that people are manipulative beings trying to use me against myself, tear me down just to bring themselves up. Sometimes, I want to be able to look at other (older) people and learn from them because clearly life is a big mystery right now.

Unfortunately, reality is a far cry right now.

I need to fix the situation.

I do take it upon myself to fix situations, especially the ones relating to people I've grown attached to.

In most Asian families, we were brought up conditioned to never talk about feelings. Girls taught to always be the good girl and boys given the liberty to be bad whenever wherever. That was societal norm, and I suppose still is to some extent today.

Whenever I engage in raw conversations with my aunt from Canada, I bare my all and it doesn't make me feel uncomfortable. But when I try to approach similar topics with my mom, I know for sure I'll be judged for expressing myself. (It also doesn't help that she is used to ruling with an iron fist, and having full control over the household gives her some sort of comfort.)

I've been trying to change that recently. Or rather, the household had been throw into disarray and that forced us to rethink the way things have been.

I put on shoes too big for me, and I do see it as my responsibility to safeguard this household to the best that I can.

I probed into the life of my brother who had always been the unexpressive kid in the family. I thought it was natural for boys to be non-sentimental/emotional trouble-makers. But being a boy doesn't justify that behaviour, and enough was enough.

I've never done that before - stood in front of him and very honestly shared with him how I felt in front of my mom and sis. I needed him to be a better brother to his sisters and a better son to our mom. I needed him to be in my life. And I don't think that's too much to ask.

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