Daily Update that is not very daily

Perspective

There is this new girl at work who is from a very strict family and they are sexist. So she’s 22 but she lives with her brother. Her curfew is 8pm. She’s never been clubbing, doesn’t know about most things. For example the other day she asked us “What’s Vin diesel?” (not who…what).

Hashtag True story

When she first started I thought she was okay. But a colleague of mine who had to work with this girl, hated her. She would complain to me everyday about how she doesn’t listen and doesn’t know much excel and ask why they hired someone who was so dumb. Now I am not sure if this influenced me but the more I started getting to know this new girl thr more I judged her for her dumbness even though I haven’t personally seen her do anything dumb. I judged her for her culture (which, in the back of my head, I knew was hypocrytical because I come from the same culture where women have more restrictions than men.) I judged her for not standing up for herself. Eventually I couldn’t stand her. One wrong thing she would do and I would be on her case and pretty much scream at her. People started noticing at work… so I would justify it by saying she reminds me too much of my past. Why doesnt she stand up for herself? I would ask. I mean how can you live like you’ve come from under a stone all your life? Soon I influenced pretty much everyone working around me. We would send emails to each other about her and snigger. I usually instigated these emails. The new girl at first would ask us what we were all laughing about, we would make excuses, but she caught on. She went quiet at work. She didnt talk much. Her HIs and her byes stopped. Somedays I didnt even realise she was at work.

One day, I heard one of the managers talk to her and I realised that she was actually new to Australia. Possibly been here for less than 6 years. She didn’t know english when she got here so she learnt it herself. And just like that, that inner voice spoke a bit louder. I remembered the times I was bullied at school and in my first job. People would openly make fun of me for being Indian. I remebered the times growing up in a foreign country, and the cultural differences made me do and say what people in Australia would have considered weird and dumb. But the more they made fun of me the more quiet I would go and eventually I started hating myself.

I remembered all those horrible teenage years… the only thing I wanted, even now the only thing I want, is for someone to accept me for the way I am. Even if they don’t understand.

So, while it took a few more weeks, I stopped bitching, I stopped hating. I tried to see the world from her perspective. I smiled. I said Hi first. I made small conversations. I even requested the colleague of mine to just start fresh with the new girl again.

Its been a week and I can see her being more happy at work. Shes even improved at work so much so that shes working with me now on some big pricing files. Something I would have fought my managers for just a couple of weeks ago.

There’s a lot of lessons I learnt from this experience. There’s a lot we can all take from this.  The best one was perspective…. it just takes one persons perspective to influence others however  Persepective can sometimes start of on the wrong foot.

Daily Update

My dad sent me an email yesterday about how upset he was that I hadn’t wished him for his birthday. He said he’d rather die than live like this.

I was going to reply back to him and tell him If you felt that way just because someone hadn’t wished you. … can you imagine how one might feel for being called a liar for talking about their abuse. Should I kill myself then?

I didn’t. Not because I am the bigger person,  but because it will only fall on deaf ears.  They all only think about themselves.  So I simply hit delete. 

This decision is going to haunt me for awhile but I think I made the right choice.

Fool

I am tired of this place, I hope people change
I need time to replace what I gave away
And my hopes, they are high, I must keep them small
Though I try to resist I still want it all

I see swimming pools and living rooms and airplanes
I see a little house on the hill and children’s names
I see quiet nights poured over ice and Tanqueray
But everything is shattering and it’s my mistake

Only fools fall for you, only fools
Only fools do what I do, only fools fall
Only fools fall for you, only fools
Only fools do what I do, only fools fall

The Whole truth and nothing but the truth (pt2)

I can’t talk about our first night. Because at no ones fault…   it was incredibly horrifying for me. My depression was the only thing to blame. To this day my husband has no idea about this. It will break him if he finds out. I cried myself to sleep that night. But I picked myself up again and I woke up the next day as if it was all okay.

A couple of days later I was at my in-law’s town. I would be meeting every single member of my husbands family here. Walking into my their house, felt like walking into one of those old ads that they show on TV. The mum with the apron in the kitchen making delicious food. Everyone smiling and laughing, the whole family together, joking around.

I wanted this life. I wanted the atmosphere,  I wanted the peace, I wanted to smile and I was in it and I loved it. My father in law would call me his daughter and my mother in law would tell me everyday how much she always wanted a daughter. She would take me out around her area and show me off. I never had to cook, i never had to clean. I was a princess.

Continue reading The Whole truth and nothing but the truth (pt2)

Daily Update #5

The thought that my kids might be part of a broken home scares me.

I just look at my daughter and I know, as strong as she is, it will break her. She is so mature but she’s at that age where she gets influenced by everything around her. She kept scratching me last night because I wouldn’t play with her. That was her mimicking me in a fight with my husband.

I tried explaining to her that even though mum does it that she shouldn’t be doing it. I apologized to her for scaring her like that but I think she’s too young to understand any of this.

I might have already ruined her with my anger.

My biggest nightmare is unfolding right in front of me and it’s all my fault.

Daily update #3

It’s been a week since I walked away from my husband… and then decided to give it ONE MORE TRY.

Because that’s me…. try, try, try again!

I had to come into work this morning as I had realised I had forgotten to do something.

And my husband’s facebook status is “why is a booty call called a booty call?”

Yes, that’s how he talks to me – through facebook statuses that I have to decipher. So when I ask him about it, he denies it’s about me. This mental game…. I tell you!

Right now I fell like someone’s pierced a knife through my heart and left it there. My stomach just dropped when I read it.

Is that what he thinks of me?

Daily Update #2

This is going to be a mothers rant.

I’ve warned you

I have an almost 3 year old daughter and an almost 1 year old son. Yes, that’s right – 2 under 3. For awhile it was 2 under 2.

Don’t do my mistake – Unless you have a nanny and can take 2 years off work and are willing to live in a cluttered house. Case in point:

clutter

When my kids don’t eat properly, they don’t sleep. When they don’t sleep, they go hyper. When they go hyper – they fight, they cry, they chuck tantrums and are generally just like, for lack of a better word, babies! Now imagine 8 hours of just this, all weekend.

Can’t wait for Monday, where I can go sit on my chair at work and stare at a computer screen that doesn’t demand for me to make it a watermelon, carrot pie and then refuse to eat it.

My writing updates are going well, the second part is taking longer because I don’t have time for one and secondly, I cannot get my head in the right space. I keep adding in too much detail and as complicated my life was is, I don’t want to confuse the reader. I need to make sure I have an end goal to that part of the story and ensure from the very beginning I take the reader the right way.

I am having to read everything over and over again and making so much changes. But it’s all therapeutic in a way. The more I read it and the more I write, I am feeling relieved.

And the whole point of this WordPress Blog was to have a positive way to get the negative out.

Daily Update #1

I am in the middle of writing the 2nd part to my story. Not sure what I want to accomplish from doing this as yet; I guess I just want it to be out there for the world to know. I think just to help my sanity though, I am going to have to do these daily updates so I can keep my emotions together.

The last couple of days have been just pure procrastination. Procrastinating thinking about what is happening at home. I guess this is the circle that I get stuck in each time.

Unfair things happen > I kick and scream > they say they’ll change > and then nothing

My heart is so heavy, like there is something stuck at the bottom of it just pulling it down. My stomach feels queasy. I am spiraling down to depression and I know I am going to explode at some point but I keep telling myself that my kids cannot go through that again so I just stay quiet.

My daughter told me the other day that she is scared of me. She cried when I left the house because she got scared that I wasn’t going to come back. I think I have ruined her life before it even started and this was my worst nightmare. To influence her, to make her think that I was the scary one before I could explain to her why I get angry. My biggest fear though, I don’t think she will ever understand what makes me do the things I do. Because we all have choices. I have a choice not to get angry, I have a choice to just go with the flow no matter how hard it gets, but I explode. A part of me is screaming “BUT THIS IS NOT YOUR FAULT! HOW ELSE ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO GET PEOPLE TO GIVE YOU A BREAK” but another part of me also knows that anger is not the way.

Do you know what is worse than having no one that loves you? Getting someone to fight for you when they don’t care. So do you leave? or do you stay because it will hurt your kids?

The whole truth and nothing but the Truth

I initially started this blog to tell the world my story. I thought I’d be creative and write like all those fancy writers and perhaps maybe turn this into a book. Then the whole world will know how unfair my entire existence has been.

But that’s not who I am. I am not creative. My story doesn’t have enough to pull in a crowd and heck I’d be lucky to get even one reader in this blog.

I’ve decided to be me. I am going to be direct. That is me. No filter.

The basics

I had a childhood like everyone else. I grew up in an upper middle class home. My mum was a teacher, my dad an accountant, my sister (who is 7.5 years older than I am) was like a second mum to me. Due to the age gap and the sheltered life I lived in India I was naive enough to believe everything my parents taught me. “Family comes first” “Girls wear dupatta everywhere they go”. Before you get ahead of yourself… I should tell you that this is not a story of feminism.

Everything I thought I knew about my family was put to the test the night my uncle used my hands to give himself a hand job. I was probably 7 or 8 years old. I did tell my mum and my grandma the next day but there’s only so much an 8-year-old can explain. I can’t quite remember what I said but I do remember my mum and my grandma saying “your uncle was showing you how much he loved you”. I knew that explanation wasn’t quite right. But I also knew, there would be quite an extreme drama if I kept pestering and I just let it go. He was leaving to go back to Australia that afternoon anyway.

We migrated to Australia when I was 13. The only logically place to stay was at my Uncles house until we got our life patched together in a new country. I did this thing subconsciously where I packed enough in-skirts to wear when I was taking showers but I didn’t let myself think about why I was doing this.

As luck would have it. I got my first period when I moved into his house. I turned clumsy, always aware of my surroundings and who was or wasn’t watching. Always timed it so I wasn’t home alone. Never took showers without my clothes. I was bullied at school and I had no friends. This was the first 8 months of my life in Australia.

My parents are proud people. My parents were now laborers in a factory. From a teacher/ accountant to carrying loads of God-knows-what from one end of a factory to another is enough to turn anyone to depression. And it did. I saw the depression take over them so I never said a thing. I didn’t tell them about my anxiety, I didn’t tell them about the bullying, I didn’t tell them how I used to eat lunch on my own in the nearby bushes at school.

We eventually moved out, got our own house, my parents eventually got into good jobs and our life was normal. My anxiety was somewhat gone and sneaking alcohol in my Coke bottles gave me enough courage to make friends at school and I could finally go through my normal teenage-y, “i-hate-the-world” phase.

The Sibling

Continue reading The whole truth and nothing but the Truth