Unplanned Hiatus


Knock, knock!
Who’s there?
Nadira.
Nad– Wait a minute….. SHE’S BACK?!

Ayy amigos. I IZ BACK.

And as the title suggests, I’ve been on a long vacation – I mean, hiatus. Sigh, if only it really was all sand and sea for me. It’s been like what? 4-5 months of a disappearing act? Whew.

To abruptly cut through the climax, I’ve quitted my job. Yep. While my previous post was about my first week of job, this one tells you right smack in the face – that I’ve quitted. And it’s the right decision, in my opinion.

For what it’s worth, it was 4 months of bittersweet ordeal. I especially love the people there. They are so friendly and nice omg. I don’t know about other companies, but so far this one got me smiling almost everyday because of the people. I even have a godmother in the same office! (More on her in my next post! Hehe.)

Though the job isn’t taxing, it’s not of my interest. So it was neutral & mundane for me. There was no stress, and every night and weekend is peaceful for me, not having to think (much) of what to do the next day. The only problem was that I started losing tremendous amount of weight since I started working there. My company’s not located near to any shopping malls/food places, there’s only one canteen with ONE halal stall that frequently closes whenever it wishes – and so that, to me, was the biggest downfall. Such a pity, I would have stayed longer if food was accessible. But it’s okay, it can’t be blamed. I had to leave because my health was deteriorating badly.

Now I’m not the type to give up on something precious so easily, I would have fought and stayed but my health was literally declining every single day. I remember crying/holding back my tears everyday either at home or in my company’s toilet (away from people), because the pain was unbearable. I feltΒ useless. I couldn’t even sit in peace, can you believe it? I suffered from severe gastric pains, by the way, and the attacks come randomly and unmercifully.

To make things worse, my mum had to take care of me more than usual, and that meant less sleep for her. I know she was in a state of constant worry, and that made me feel like such a burden to her. I’m at that age where I’m the one who should be taking care of her, and my dad, so everytime I think of my mum I’d cry because of how much she had to sacrifice for me just to make sure I wasn’t suffering too much.

Maybe to others this is a small thing, not much of a big deal. I did think to myself back then, “Am I a weak person? Physically and emotionally/mentally?” I even mouthed the words, “I hate myself, mum. Why am I even living anymore?” And I couldn’t believe I said that because I know I’m an optimist. Guess the pain had really taken a toll on me. Was that mild depression? Idk.

So fast forward, I tendered my resignation because I don’t wanna die at work (lol), I felt strongly that I need a different working environment since I believe I have a sensitive stomach. That, plus a few other important factors, but I don’t wanna list them all here.

As I’m typing this, I’m seated comfortably on my bed, half an hour past my meal and so far no gastric pains since I woke up this morning. Alhamdulillah πŸ™‚ I’m taking this time to fully recover before finding a new job that’s well suited for me.

There’s one last thing that I wanna talk about with relevance to my period of suffering then; and that is: the impact of words on a sufferer.

Throughout that period, I became utterly skinny. I was becoming close to just “skin and bones”. My brother whom I’m closest to, said that it was heartbreaking to see me in that state. I cringed every time I glanced at the mirror – if I stare long enough, I’d cry at how pathetic I looked. I couldn’t believe how much I’ve shrunk in size, and not only me, but others noticed it too. It was so bad that my SKINNY JEGGINGS still had a lot of fucking space in it when I wore them…. imagine how shocked I was. Dayum son.

For so long, I didn’t take any selfies, I didn’t wear nice clothes, I didn’t wear any smile on my face, because what’s the point? I slowly started to loathe myself, I didn’t wanna go out of my house or meet anyone – even my friends, and I stayed at home for most of my weekends just trying to recover. And then when the weekdays begin, hell starts all over again as there’s no food to eat at work. A vicious cycle that I so badly wanted to escape from. I did go to the hospital and got my medicines, but didn’t really work then.

Speaking of impact of words, I received comments from my colleagues that weren’t very sensitive. They’re nice people, but not very careful in how they crafted their questions/assumptions. I received questions & comments like, “Are you anorexic?” “Why go on a diet? You’re already very skinny!” “Too skinny not nice” “I think you can fit children’s clothes” “Let me see your wrist.. omg look at that! I can easily break that!” “Don’t take diet pills or else I can only see your shadow next time.”

Okay I did laugh at some and cried at some, but I didn’t react or respond hugely to them. I just shoved those words off and pretend that it doesn’t hurt as much. Because of this, self-love became increasingly difficult, I had to constantly remind myself that I’m beautiful no matter what and sometimes even that failed. I even hurt myself on purpose a few times… I don’t know why.

Now I’m recovering at a good progress, thanks to a healed mindset, medicines that are slowly proving their effectiveness, and most importantly, a group of humans whom have seen my worst condition, stayed by my side, gave words of encouragement and showered unconditional love and care towards me. These people are so very precious and I thank them for being such kind souls.

If you know of anyone suffering or going through some typa pain, or are just recovering from it, please be sensitive in your approach. Simple jokes/comments may be nothing to you but they can cause terrible damage to the ones receiving them.

P.S. Idk if I’ll keep up with this blog regularly, but for readers who checks my blog every now and then for new posts, know that you are highly appreciated by me. No promises, but I’ll try to resurrect my blog from the grave every now and then :p

 

Nadira Shirlonna