Life is full of compromises…
There is no room for any fun at all.
I don’t mean this is all because of having babies now. No. I love what I do for them. Whatever happiness I get during the day now, I owe it to Abhi and Achu.
I know when life stopped being fun. From a simple and happy working girl, I went on to a being a responsible adult and then I had to believe that whatever obstacles that were coming my way were not okay. By the time I realized that obstacles are part of life and personal life can be fun no matter what, few years of my life, which were supposed to be the best ones, have already passed. I tried fixing what ever I could, but I failed. (I still do and fail, actually) It was already late. I now speak to people and they are just so oblivious of the fact that I am bothered. When I was working and was in daily meetings, I remember, no matter what bothered me, I was still the cheerful person, talking to everyone just like nothing happened. I got good at faking. This blog has helped me see the brighter side of things, but it doesn’t mean the pain inside is not killing me.
All these thoughts are pouring in now because I have an option to take a break from whatever I am doing now, break, away from continuously trying to feed/change/bath/sleep/entertain/pacify Abhi and Achu. They are at a place they are used to now, so this is the right time for me to take a break. Part of me wants to take the break really, part of me doesnt. Because I know I don’t like the company I will have. I know it’s not going to be fun. I know I wont be laughing out loud. I know I wont be as happy as I want to be and I know I will come back with more regrets.
Whats a break when it’s not going to be fun (and that knowing is not based on any prejudice but bare facts). whats a break when I begin thinking about it this way?
Do I do it just because I will get a breather from what I do now? Do I not do it because I know I am going to be disappointed?
Sometimes I want to write about everything that bothers me. Not that I want to complain or crib, but writing helps. It really does. Sometimes I think of opening an anonymous blog, just so I could write everything. But, I don’t think I will.