Being sick makes me feel guilty. Isn’t that weird?

You’d think that I’d just feel sick, concentrating on getting well. Well, no.

In a world where you constantly get criticised for underperforming - taking MCs and not doing as per other’s expectations - this is the result.

Why should I feel this way? This guilt makes me feel anxious. It makes me question if I’m doing enough for my job. Am I compromising my “clients”? Am I suitable for this job?

There are two sides to every coin. I love what I do. The passion is there. But at the end of the day, it is what it is - a job. A job can replace you at any time. It doesn’t even have to be because you’re “underperforming”. Sometimes, it is because of THEM. Even if you lose your life tomorrow, they will replace you. It is a fact of life - it goes on even after you’re gone.

But the people that care about you will want you around for a long time. They want to see you well and healthy, both mentally and physically. They will love you either way.

So if you’re like me, in this moment, feeling awful just because you’re sick. Don’t. You deserve to take care of yourself for the people you love. To the world, you may be one person, but to your family or even one person, you ARE their world.

Part 2

When I was in secondary school and the anxieties kept happening frequently...

I felt helpless. Every night, I couldn't sleep. When I woke up, it felt like I could never face the day. I didn't dare to go out. Home was my sanctuary. I couldn't understand why I couldn't get out of this vicious cycle of waking up and feeling terrified. I knew that school was my trigger but I just couldn't overcome it. Staying in school for 2 hours was already an accomplishment, it seems. There were times I didn’t go to school for months.

My dad thought it was something I had to snap out of. He felt like it was something I was doing on purpose; like it was something I could control. Perhaps he thought tough love was something that was needed so I’d just get over it.

But it’s not.

It just made everything seem worse. It felt like I was not just disappointing myself. It was like I was also a disappointment as a child. I couldn’t even do the one thing that was expected of me - to go to school. No matter how much I tried to explain or tried to share what I felt, he could never understand. 

It was only later that I realized - my dad grew up in a different generation. Their generation was taught to be tough. Life had to go on whether or not you wanted it to. They had no choice. It was eat or be eaten. His own life circumstance was different from mine. He grew up with his grandma and was moving around in his teens- having to adapt quickly. 

I guess what I am trying to say is that everyone has their own journey that they are going through; or have been through.