Being a grown up means stress being your middle name. You are running from from here to there trying to do everything at once. Pay the bills, pick up your dry cleaning , keep your special one happy and pampered and on top of that, try not to lose your peace of mind. The end result is a zillion of people with raised BP issues, heart problems and other health issues. All because of stress of doing it all.
Being a married woman with a big family, an infant and an understanding (but sometimes childish) husband means a whole lot of hard work for me. I am trying to do dozens of things at once, whilst trying to keep everyone happy and trying not to break down under the pressure. The end result; nothing I do is perfect , everything is haphazardly done and I , personally, suffer emotionally. It was one of those days when my emotions got the better of me and I shed a few tears that my husband gave me some advice. “Its always about the priorities. Prioritize things and do them one by one. No one is perfect. Do one thing at a time and I know you will do it perfectly.”
It got me thinking, does everyone get to chose their priorities? Or am I one of the few who gets this option. I mean, I have seen people who are trying to make ends meet round the clock. I have seen people do two jobs just to feed their family even though they don’t like either of the jobs. Do they have an option of doing one thing at a time? There is so much of poverty and hunger in this world and here I am worrying over cooking, studying , feeding, etc.. There are wars going on, people dying of diseases unknown . The world is bigger than you and I . So lets take a break and be thankful that you are alive, healthy and happy in this world.
Ever since I was a little girl, I kept a diary. Writing in it my day to day joys and sorrows, it kept me going through some tuff times (the adolescent times as they say). It was my priced possession, something which I cherished. School, college, it covered them all.
But true life starts once you are out in the real world. Facing the big bad wolves all clawing for success in every field. I started my job and slowly my diary lay in my closet, waiting for ink to seep in through its pages soon. I wrote my diary mostly during weekends when I was away from the hassles of work and wanted to vent out my anger against sexism at work place and unfair bosses.
I frequented my diary often when the phase of my marriage came along, as there were so many emotions, so many new characters in my life I had to talk about. So many questions and so many dreams. My diary sure was happy as we had become best friends again. But soon after marriage, once I settled down and work and family took all my time, my diary lay forgotten in my closet, dust accumulating on it, still waiting for me to share again. I feel guilty today as I realised that I had stopped writing. My diary is what made me realise I love to write, that I can express myself on paper than otherwise. Yet, it is forgotten now and I feel ashamed. Its like I forgot a friend who was with me listening to me in every wake of my life.
To all those who keep a journal, DO NOT STOP. It’s a part of who you are. Don’t let it lay forgotten amongst magazines and old newspapers, dusty and frayed. Keep it close to you, cherish it, be regular. There is nothing known as “No time”. You have to make time for everything. Keep your diary alive!