I knew that I’m not supposed to feel this way. I knew that my body is trying to navigate the task of breathing because my mind can’t. My organs wanted to remove themselves from my body especially my stomach intestines. I started to find some oxygen to breathe but it felt like I don’t deserve any. Despite the havoc created in my body, the social norms were so strongly wired in me, that I did the best anyone could. I rushed to the washroom. Finally, the tears came rolling down. Finally, I found my breath. My hands and legs shivered and that moment it was a fight for survival. After using few toilet papers to wipe my tears off, my tears didn’t stop but the second time it came with force. The story my mind told my body was pathetic one. The story ended with, “after 25 years of your life, you’re still a failure”.
I’m the product of a perfectionist-depressed-discplined mother. For 30 years of her life, every failure of hers is grief and every win of her is not celebrated. To unlearn that task was a task. I have. I have unlearned it with taking my failure as roads of improvement, adding perfectionist attitude as skill in my resume stating “attention to detail” and the resulting grief into Spotify playlist.
If you’ve read till now, I think you might have concluded that I was having a panic attack. If you’re guessing where I was having the it, ofcourse in the washroom of my corporate office. If you’re wondering where do I work? Please check my LinkedIn. If you’re really interested to decode why the panic attack happened, keep reading.
Everyone told me that the job market is bad. Stick to what you have. When you throw such statements, it’s because your job pays you enough to tolerate it. The fabric of tolerance increases with the pay check, not because you have a good manager and Saturday’s off. My fabric was cut into pieces of disrespect, sheer incompetency of the organisation’s leadership and well, manufacturing profit out of those fabric.
What I did I do to calm myself?
Abhi toh practise ho gayi hai.
Call a friend. The kind of friend who got angry on my behalf. A friend who told me to breathe. A friend who didn’t tell me to hide away my tears but someone who knew, that when panic attacks hits, your body needs to be safe and your mind needs to be safer. Highly recommend keeping such friends on speedial.
Left the environment which caused it. Put on Angie’s music and let my mind decide which path we should be on.
After coming back, another friend told me, will doing all of this impact your career? To everyone, a 100% yes.
What I do with a career if survival becomes a question?
Something to think on. Something to feel about. Something to do about it.
Stay tuned till I completely exit this workplace because as I write this, I prepare myself for another drama to be unfolded.
Warm regards,
🫂♥️