I used to be that person who’d run themselves to the ground,
just by my way of life,
and not think twice about it as strange or out of order,
because i’d committed myself to this kind of life,
laid aside my comforts and respite on my soul,
i celebrated the harder and tougher it got,
i felt accomplished- like finally my life and purpose had meaning or i had revealed a revelation toward’s my life’s existence,
what it was,
was actually just a skeleton fleshed out that was moving dirt around in the big, great ecosystem of things that really made no difference,
and yet i thought i’d found the key to unlocking the good and great that made up my existence.
I don’t know what kind of idiocy high i was on, maybe am still riding that high and i fear i’d die without really being awake or living.
Am in a dream while others are actually awake and living,
when you come across this article please tap me awake,
no, i mean shake me vigorously awake please,
because this is self sabotage of the highest degree ever known to mankind.
I used to walk fast
very fast
like really fast
u’d be forgiven to think the world was on fire and i was the only firefighter alive who knows how to just put it out,
then,
i’d applaud myself that am on a rush to solve a major occurrence,
well, because to me that was a real emergency,
that’s all i did anyways the whole day,this was my centre of existence,
in my warped brain,
because the rush was geared towards a certain point and goal,
well let’s just say i was obsessed and overly excitedly sick with zealous, unhealthy zeal,
because saying otherwise won’t justify my silly behavior, as now i term it while looking back,
It was a pathetic stupid existence that was cocooned and bottlenecked in a vice chocking grip of socio environmental circumstances well contributed, applauded, driven, expected, honed, fanned, expected, ruthlessly trained and demanded by a demented manager.
I used to work like a frenzied maniac,
who was always behind on everything, even breathing i used to breath fast because the last breath was late and i had to catch up with the next one and make up with the one following closely behind.
Suffice to say i was just a miserable little ball of energy,
grinding hard to the ground my own self.
My heart would beat erratically in anticipation of a mess or what i was supposed to accomplish,
i knew no calm peaceful moment,
everything was supposed to be done and in ship shape the moment my feet hit the floor in the morning,
everything seemed to clamor for my attention and i felt the irresistible magnetic pull to actually fix all at once,
my mind was scattered to the various scenarios that i was to have been there already and done some damage control.
If i dint act on the skittering thoughts the guilt that’d eat me up and disturb my conscious was uncomfortable and difficult to live with,
so i found myself actually dividing myself like an octopus and spread as thin as impossibly realistic,
i don’t know how i did it,
but i did manage to very well just dash about like a firefly with a magic wand,
but remember the said firefly was a breathing living human with 2 arms and legs, functioning and operating outside the accepted norms of actual normalness.
I was just rushing through daily activities like my world was on literal flames,
i rushed about like the weight of the world was pressing down on me,
my shoulders at a perpetual slump,
back hunched,
eyes darting about looking to fix the displaced, misplaced, acceptable orderliness of things,
because i felt indebted to right all the wrongs that were happening at that particular time.
If you’d have seen me you’d have been moved with pity for what i was supposed to accomplish and the much that awaited me,
the magnitude of what i’d willingly, voluntarily decided to shoulder.
My footsteps were short, brisk, hurried,
and sometimes occassionally i found myself happily running like not the once in a while jogging,
no!
a full-on sprinting towards whatever i was going to do!
this is the height of being cursed,
a self curse or bewitchment.
And this happened in my late thirties,
a full-grown woman behaving like an excited coming of age teen!
it’s cringy and almost unbelievable to recall,
makes me fall out of favor with my mental state at that time all over again.
I think the best solution will be to go get evaluated by a psychiatrist,
that’d definitely put myself into a firm bunch and label
maybe diagnose me with a term to put me at ease,
so i can at least associate with a known fallacy of the self.
I felt so stressed and overwhelmed
someone looking at my face would see worry and uncertainty written all over it
i was constantly on my toes, on my feet, rushing about like a psychopathic maniac.
There is that adrenaline rush that accompanies one when this state is heightened or made to be a norm in one’s manner of life
your adrenaline is at an all-time high,
while you rush around putting out fires that seem to erupt elsewhere and whenever you turn your back, that very place also erupts.
I actually fancied myself as a fast worker,
the one who got things done,
the reliable one,
the one who’d show up in a jiffy whenever a little inkling of a fire, was detected ready and armed from head to toe with all the necessary equipments, ready to demolish and rebuild the system afresh to avoid any other occurrence,
but,
shock on me!
there wasn’t a one-off activity
i will repeat, cycle and keep coming back to wherever i’d started to repeat exactly what i’d done,
until the day was over and i very well knew tomorrow was a replica of the previous day.
Let me rightly pinpoint that this happened because of the environment i was exposed to,
specifically, the work environment.
The manager and other minions moved about like they had springs on their soles,
i joined the team when they were all hyped about this high of- if you aint moving like wild dogs are chasing you then you aint working at all- period.
The psycho manager the one who ignited, drove, catalyzed, encouraged and even praised this kind of lifestyle, ensuring he will only approve of those who moved like they’re fast skating about, was the king pin instigator of this pathetic way of life.
At the end of the day my feet were on fire, pulsating, vibrating, swollen, darkened, chaffed, my toes tips frictionally bruised and turned to an abnormal clotted color.
I was beyond exhausted,
my body ached
and my feet felt like they couldn’t just support me anymore.
I was miserable,
my face was etched in worries that were unending and lined with panic lines,
i was always anticipating the worst
because not only was i moving from station to station for a casual walk by,
i was actually solving issues that arose or anticipated ones that might arise when my physical presence wasn’t there.
I had this heavy, sad frown, that pulled down the sides of my mouth to an ugly, frightful, pathetic, unpleasant look,
deeply lined, sad, gloomy face that was perpetually on the lookout for a disaster i was supposed to fix.
And the one thing that just deflated, demoralized, and broke the momentum of the busy rushing about,
was if i found that i couldn’t access the station,
and i had to wait or go and come back again,
that meant not accomplishing the task that brought me over,
but returning with that guilt ridden, unfulfilled self of not having gotten the chance to check in and right any arising or emergent issue
and almost always there was an issue requiring attention.
I, therefore needed to change the tools i had, or carry with me those tools to the other station and come back again when access was granted to the first station and continue the fix or start a fix.
I resented the ones who made access impossible for that very particular time i needed access,
i resented the wait,
i never knew how to sit still,
be calm,
patient
and just wait it out for a while.
I just had to fidget around impatiently, wearing a long face and a scowl as i waited.
The manger that we had was a real brat,
him seeing you not actively doing something,
like down there in the trenches, heaving, sweating, looking miserable, out of sorts, absorbing the heat of the moment, just beaten and weighed down with responsibilities or work,
amounted to you not working, lazing about and a subsequent tongue lash and disparaging, soul crushing remarks.
I was constantly on edge, drained, looking to fix anything or something as that was the only accepted currency that equaled to work.
To say i was utterly miserable is an understatement, you only had to read my misery facial expressions which’d tell you the whole story and then some.
This hyper anxiety and feeling of rushed nervousness was draining me and wearing me down to the point that i began to resent everyone and everything,
my existence seemed miserable,
i hated the fact that i just had to do, what i had to do, to call it an existence and survive.
I actually neglected my hair, health and just lived to work,
to please the manager, ensure no complains arose and that i put out the most fires as i breezed through the department like a bee,
until i looked around with a microscopic keen eye ,
detached off my scrambling about, focused on just aligning the most crooked that obviously begged for realistic attention
and noticed what an idiotic fool i was for a very very long long time
and i hated myself even more for this.
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