How To Not Be Like Me

Prologue - Awful. Stuck. Tired.

I woke up on my 30th birthday, alone in my bedroom, my phone ringing because my boss is calling me about a project I have not submitted yet because I was not motivated to do it.

I am in my pajamas with messy untreated hair, sprawling on the bed that is owned by my parents.

I slowly pull myself out of the bed and something doesn't feel right. There are some weird aches somewhere in my body. I have been feeling this lately but I am ignoring it. Then I remember I don't have a good health insurance policy that offers decent benefits for check-ups and tests. Panic settles in until that weird pain disappears and I feel fine again. Oh, that was nothing, I thought. Because I am dreading hospitalization.

I went to shower and dress for the office. I am reluctant to step outside of my room because I don't want to receive the greetings that will confirm I am turning 30 today.

I don't hate growing old. What I hate is growing old and still having nothing big accomplished.

"Happy birthday, love!" My mother greeted me with that big doting smile only mothers can give. She smiled at me like I was the most precious thing in the world. Like I have a million pesos savings in my bank account, which of course she doesn't care about. Because whether I have a zero balance or a million pesos in it, my mother's affection is the same. That's why I have a zero balance in my bank account. I was tolerated to have nothing and still function normally in society.

The greetings were followed by more greetings from my father, siblings, old neighborhood (who are maybe thinking how successful I am right now), friends on social media, then co-workers, as I arrived in the office.

After some 10 minutes of jesting and receiving greetings, I settle in my desk, like a typical workday. My mood become stern as I mechanically go about my work. A couple of hours later, I hear my best friend sigh. She's sitting across my desk.

"Gosh, we've been here for 8 years now." She muttered.

I laughed and shook my head. I have been thinking about that too for a while.  I know what she's feeling and thinking. She feels awful. She thinks she's stuck. She is tired.

And so I am. But I cannot fully know her real feelings and thoughts at that moment because we never really talked too much about the emotional side of our work. But, that's how I think she feels and thinks at that moment because that is what I feel right now.

Awful. Stuck. Tired.

Honestly, I feel like I can give so much more to the world but the path I have chosen didn't give me the opportunity to do so. I cultivated a habit and discipline that doesn't support what I want for myself, or what I want to happen in my life. So, if I feel awful, stuck, and tired, it is because of me, not the circumstances. Not that I wasn't given the chance to be more. I didn't give myself a chance to be more. I swallowed in self-pity and contempt that I allowed myself to sink into a puddle of doubts and fears.

That's why I feel awful, stuck, and unnecessarily tired.

I didn't plan to be a loser. I didn't plan out to be 30 years old with no house of my own, no car, and unsatisfied with my career. The fact is, I didn't plan failure but, didn't plan success either.

Benjamin Franklin said that you are preparing to fail by failing to prepare. I say, by failing to prepare for a successful outcome, you are preparing to fail. 

//I  don't want to wake up on my 30th birthday feeling like how I have written it. This is just a product of my imagination and fear. The next chapter is the real one.