Work-life balance - myth or reality?

I didn’t really want to work. I liked my university days. Not just because there were still next to no responsibilities, but I really liked the academic world. I like learning. I like books. I like being around books. What better way to indulge my interest than to work in, or with, a university?

But I ran out of money. And there went one of my dreams. I had to step into the real world. I didn’t want to. But I had no choice.

In a way, I wanted to also prove to myself that I could make it in the real world. In the corporate world, the dog eat dog world, the world without boundaries and familiar faces. So I put in all I had at my job. For myself. To show myself that I could really do this. That I could rise up to the challenge. That I’m just as good, if not better, than my peers. That meant putting in late hours, working over weekends, losing touch with my friends, one by one. You can’t have a life if you’re working all the time.

8 years down the line, I think I’ve proven to myself that I can do it. I’m happy with what I’ve achieved thus far. However, I’m not happy with my personal life. Mainly because I don’t have one. And it’s difficult to even try and have one. Once you’ve established yourself as a workhorse, people just expect you to be that way forever and ever. They don’t want you to change. They pile more work on you even if you’re already swamped.

By contrast, the younger generation came in with attitude, with work-life balance strongly entrenched in their outlook on life. Which is irritating because they are not willing to put in the hours, but in a weird way is good because they can differentiate work and personal life. At some point there has to be a clear distinction between work and life. Work is NOT life. Who was it who said, at your deathbed, no one ever regrets having worked too little?

Trying to change my lifestyle is not easy. I see the younger generation being given more leeway than I was ever given. No matter how much I give, it’s always never enough. No matter how little they give, it is always accepted without recrimination.

I can’t change the past. I can’t undo how I used to be. All I can do is change the future. Sure, there is resistance at every turn, but I don’t give up easily. If I did, I wouldn’t be still here after 8 years. So I guess I have to keep on reminding people that I have a life. For as long as I can, until they finally understand. Truly understand that even if I’m single, I can still have a life outside the office. That because I’ve paid my dues in the past, I deserve to have a life outside the office. That it’s the younger generation who owes them, not me.

And if they don’t listen, well maybe it’s time to pursue my abandoned dream of getting a PHD and working in a university.

Think again!

Who am I kidding? Underneath it all I’m still depressed. About the past, about the present, about the future. I still feel like a failure. Sure, I’ve managed to repress all of that by working and exercising like crazy. I try and fill my days with as many things as possible so that when I come home I’m so tired all I want to do is sleep. And tomorrow is another day. And so the days pass. As if everything is ok. But it’s not ok. Nothing is ok. Sure, the tears have stopped. But that is because believe it or not, I’ve no time to cry. My life is one big rush now from one thing to another. No more tears. But who am I really kidding? Having no time to feel sad or cry doesn’t mean I’m happy. Deep down I’m still sad. The heart ache lingers on. Like a never ending story. Oh well. This story will definitely have an ending.

And it just goes on...

I don’t know why so many people are obsessed with negativity. They seem to really thrive on it. They’ll point out everything negative about you to you, and never mention anything positive about you, as if there is nothing positive about you at all! Is it just me or has the world become a meaner place to live in??

Give me a break!

Due to excessive binging in December, I have put on quite a bit of weight. I am taking serious steps to rectify the situation, but it is proving to be a long and arduous process, especially at my age and with my Indian genes. I love food. Always have. But desperate times call for drastic measures. I have to cut down on food, especially fatty food which somehow always tastes better than healthy food. And increase my exercise. That’s exactly what I’ve been doing, but it’s still proving to be a long and arduous process.

 The thing that I notice about most people are that they are so eager to point out to me that I have put on weight, but when I lose weight, they almost never mention it. Why? I’d like to know. They feel a need to let me know that I’m fat, but not that I’m slim. Why why why? It’s almost as if they take delight or comfort in the fact that I’ve put on weight, but are not happy (or perhaps jealous?) that I’ve lost weight. Or perhaps they just wish to warn me that I’m getting fat in the hopes that I would do something about it. Yeah right. Like they really care.

 And it doesn’t just stop at weight. It can be anything; if it’s something bad or negative they will not hesitate to tell it to my face but if it’s something good or positive I get nothing but silence. Didn’t their mothers ever tell them that if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all??

I am fat

I used to be a chubby kid. Then I lost weight in university (no more of Mom’s cooking and the stress of living away from home). And now I’m steadily gaining weight again. It all started in December when there was one party after another with almost unlimited amounts of drinks and food. And now it’s so difficult to lose the weight I’ve gained. I’ve tried dieting, I’ve increased my trips to the gym, but still it doesn’t work! Some days I’m determined to go all out, some days I just give up. Nothing seems to work. Some people say stress can cause weight loss. Not for me. Work is pretty stressful at the moment but that has done nothing to decrease the weight. It’s driving me nuts. I hate to fail. And this feels like failure. One would’ve thought with 16 years to go why bother? Because I only have 16 more years to go, and I want to look good. Go out in style so to speak. But that is becoming more and more difficult by the day! Yet another reason to be depressed.

Stop the blame game

One of the characters in Julian Barnes' England, England has this rule - that after the age of 25, one should not blame one's parents anymore.

I think this is a fantastic rule, it should be made into law if possible. Because then it will teach one to be responsible over one's own life instead of just shifting the blame onto where it all started - your parents. I think too many people use the blame game much too easily, be it serial killers or ordinary people on the street.

At some point in your life (and 25 years of age seems to be a good place to start) you should just stop blaming everyone and everything else in your life, and take charge of your own life. If you succeed, you have yourself to thank, if you fail, you have yourself to blame.

If you're not happy with the way things are, do something about it. Don't just sit and whine and say if only I had my own room, or if only things were different, or if only they loved me more or whatever other convoluted excuses that you can think of, if only if only if only, I would be better off today. You can't change the past.  But you can change the future. You are your own person, so why keep blaming the past?

After you are 25, you’re on your own. You can think for yourself, you know right from wrong, you can do whatever you want to do. If you don’t, don’t go blaming anyone else but yourself for your hesitation or fear of the unknown. Because that’s what it really is. You don’t do something because you don’t want to or because you are fearful. Not because you cannot. There is no such thing as cannot anymore. If you don’t do something or do something after you are 25, whatever the outcome, it is your own doing. Not anyone else’s. Certainly not your parents’.

Who am I?

Who am I? I mean, who am I really?

I’m not talking about labels – daughter, sister, friend, acquaintance, employee, etc. Neither am I talking about philosophy – the purpose of life in the bigger scheme of things, etc. or chemistry and physics - that I'm made of molecules, atoms, etc, or religion - karma, reincarnation, prana, etc.

I’m talking about right here, right now. Who am I? Am I the cheerful one who says hi to everyone she knows, am I the angry one who is pissed off at the world, am I the sad one who always cries alone?

Let's see. I used to be happy. I was the happy one. Now? All of the above. None of the above. Now I am just lost. I actually don’t know who I am. Is life really a choice? Can you choose to be who you are? Don’t extraneous factors such as experience, friends, lifestyle, etc also contribute to who you are? Was I the same person I was 10 years ago? 15 years ago? Of course not. You can't remain stagnant. Change is inevitable.

So who am I, right here, right now?