On a very frustrated note. The clock struck 12 and I was at work. Sitting at my desk, crunching away on my keyboard. Boo.
The silver lining is that I wasn't alone, so it could have been worse. At least someone was there to wish me.
I made it home tired and bleary eyed, knocked out feeling strung out and alone.
At least I have a home and everyone is safe, right?
Morning broke and I had no energy for exercise because I was so tired. I also had a meeting to rush for so I made it off to work. The son was wailing and it made me all grumpy leaving for work.
The good is that my sweet Dad rang me offering a ride a tad late. My daughter drew me a lovely card.
On the ride to work, I pulled myself together, psyching myself that it's not that awful that I had to work on my birthday. I filtered through social media and sought comfort in the birthday messages streaming through.
I was in the most sentimental mood as I posted this up.
At least my make-up didn't run.
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| The original us, 17 March 1991. |
I made it to work, started the work day and things just kept piling up. One after another, job after job, issue after issue, I was out of breath.
At least, I had a job. I also had time in-between meetings to eat a proper lunch.
The afternoon went on, I tried to feel normal, but this cloud of gloom just kept hovering over my head. The work still kept piling up and I allowed my emotions to get the better of me.
After a day of trying to seek the good things, I let it crumble.
I spent the next few hours in a total strop. I couldn't receive the birthday wishes to me properly, with heart. I couldn't embrace the birthday cake that was presented to the March babies.
I allowed my bad emotions to overwhelm me and work to defeat me, I was snappy, a horrible little woman, and I was down.
By 8pm, I finally calmed down. I felt so tired with all the negative energy in me that I couldn't hold on to it anymore. I stopped being stroppy. I stopped being un-nice. I just stopped feeling and just continued ploughing through my work. At some point, the husband offered to pick me, but I declined. I promised to make it home early enough, I knew I wanted to see the kids.
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| HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOMMY! |
And this, seeing them, made it all better again. I made simple, heartfelt wishes. For me, for them, for the family. I was sung a birthday song, we all had cake, they went to sleep, I went to shower.
It was another regular day. But I made it out to be special, and I guess I was disappointed. I wanted to be at play, but I couldn't so I was at conflict within. I could have soldiered on with an open heart, but I didn't, and I let it eat at me and I cried. I cried tears of self pity and sadness, too much of sentiment and emotion. But why?
My husband and children got me cake. I have a birthday card hand-drawn from my girl. I have a beautiful life, home and children. I received flowers from the family. I am an able-bodied, healthy woman. I received plenty of well wishes and smiles and hugs and love all around from friends and family and colleagues.
My life is not bad at all.
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| Salted caramel, the husband, and roses from him |
And so, as I am ending my night, on my birthday, I'm thinking through how I felt today. True, it started off busy and stressful, but I could have stopped myself from being a pain many times through the day. I think I tried, but I didn't succeed properly.
At 35, I'm still the same, emotional me; I guess some things don't change. It is terribly tiring to be so strung out though, to battle the frustration and responsibility within. But truth is - I did not have to be that unhappy. I did not have to let work envelope me like that, or for myself to be such a pain.
Perhaps it is really time to stop and think and do something.
To be happier, to be better, to be stronger, to put things into perspective.
I guess it's a lesson to learn. That no matter what your age, no matter what the occasion, that no matter what. Everything can be fine, everything will be fine, everything is fine.
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