Tag: mental health

Who works well under pressure!?

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To be extremely honest, I do not work well under pressure. Well yes, I work under pressure, I can tolerate stress, but sometimes I barely make it.

I’ve seen some people even claim to “thrive” under pressure. Do they? Or what they really mean is: I am able to mitigate the stress and maintain a certain level of effectiveness under any kind of constraints? What I really want to see is how the results are, compared to when they work without those constraints. Do they really work better or best under pressure?

And I imagine how those people would be if there is no pressure or stress. They must be work monsters smashing task after task. Their mind is free. They see things clearly. They make best decisions. They even enjoy their work!

What a world of performative fools are we living in! I see that we are still far from moving away from all that capitalist performative culture. To whoever is claiming to work well/best under pressure, are you well? To corporates, organizations, can you stop asking your candidates if they work well under pressure. The science says it: no one thrives under pressure due to stress, cognitive impairment, illusion of “inspiration”, etc. (just google it!). So all you will receive will be no more than just an answer in an interview. Besides, having pressures of any kind exist in your company means that there are systemic problems.

Let’s just be honest. We are humans, not work machines to need mechanical pressure engineering us.

cHoicEs

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i am aware that my life is extremely privileged, that up until this point, i always have had this able body, a roof above my head, food on my table, love from people around me, the literacy, the education and the experience that make me not so clueless about the world. my life has brought me so many cHoICes to choose from. “what do i have for dinner today?”; “what show do i want to watch?”; “which shirt do i wear this morning?”. at the end, isn’t it all about the cHoiCes that tell us apart?

the irony is (not surprisingly), the privilege to have these many cHoiCes has resulted in me hating having cHoiCes. what a privilege to say “i hate cHoIcEs”. because those cH0iCeS I made had me leave my home country, had me do all these adventures, had me decide to start my life all over abroad. and while i was doing it, it made me realize how far i was from home, from what actually matters. now i am in the middle of the two lives: the life founded since i was born in Vietnam with my loved ones, and the one that i just founded abroad with my chosen family on the other side of the globe.

i am speaking about this journey as if it was a burden to have such a journey. it wasn’t. the burden is the NOW, when i, once again, have to make a choice. wherever i choose to settle, i would lose a significant part of my life. and since my mom passed, each choice, each person weighs heavier in my heart. i’ve learnt that i can’t live peacefully without my people, not being able to be there for them aches my heart. i want to be there to take care of everyone that i love, which is probably unachievable and nothing more than a wishful thinking. but i saw my mom do it. should i try to do it?

imagine you go away from your country to start a new life, while having endless challenges throwing at your way but you don’t give up, you find a way and you are almost there. BOOM! one big painful life event. you pack your bags to go back to your country. now you leave everything you’ve built to again start all over in your country.

no one knows what life has ahead for us. we take what we are given. maybe there are no cHoiCEs. maybe this is all part of the illusion of choice conspired by the aliens. we know nothing about what is happening around us.

the life I’ve lived

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Tragic.

Besides myself, no one really knows the reality that I have to face everyday. No one knows the actual, full, unfiltered life of mine. 

At the age of 29, I still have no stable income despite my academic background. I’m not stupid but I’m also just an immigrant that can’t speak the language. Hence, I put aside my master’s degree to join a course for caretakers while working as a waitress (I hate being a waitress). Between the course and the waiting job, all I have left for myself is stress, depression and insomnia. The truth is: I am always tired.

On top of that, I am torn between staying in Italy or going back to Vietnam.  Everyday I dream about spending time with my mom who has been fighting with cancer for the last two years. Another day passes by is another day that I’m grateful that she is still here with us. At the same time, the guilt that I keep building every second for not being there with her is taking the life out of my soul. At the same time, I am in my critical stage of building my life in this strange land. In this period, if I drop everything, I lose everything.

And these days, it’s been hard. Through the phone screen, my mom is grayer and grayer. “It has spread everywhere, to the brain and to the bones.” I tell myself, it is time to go home. Approaching 30, with all these life challenges throwing at my way, while I was just starting to build my life, I decided to go home. I don’t know what will happen next but I also don’t want to know what it will be. 

Soon at the age of 30, I would still have not achieved a single thing that I set for myself during my early 20s. No career, no husband. I wouldn’t be able to hide my “incompetence” from the Vietnamese society anymore. No more European escapism. But then how I would even live if the world was without my mom. And I don’t want to imagine that kind of world. 

I’ve decided to come home.

Body narration

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(A kind reminder to myself)

Everyone knows about the two way relationship between the mind and the body. Everyone talks about how to be fit, how to move in order to have better mental health. It seems, that only looking at such direction, the two way dynamics already makes so much sense.

But I wonder, how about the role of the mind in our bodily health? How about the fact that being all stressed slows our metabolism badly? Or how our immune system plummets due to worries and anxiety? Or the fact that our bodies seem to all embrace the same narratives that the society, the people around us are telling despite our wide differences?

Since small, I was told about how a girl body should look like, which was bad enough. Then I grew up a little bit, the story expanded to what a certain type of bodies could do or become. And now, being closer to the age of 30, as I’ve met more people, read more and seen more, I’ve also been introduced to the slow deterioration of the human body. “You will feel your age, just wait!”

Hearing those narratives about bodies (whose bodies?), it would be so strange if my body doesn’t begin to act out those narratives. Since they’re personal experience, it seems so real to my brain to start to listen and believe. But I have to stop myself and ask: Whose personal experience?

Definitely not mine.

You can tell me beauty is abs and muscles. Good for you, and my idea of beauty is the diversity of shapes.

You tell me, fat people do nothing. But from what I see, they dance, they exercise, they move their bodies, they break the norms. Anything and everything that a skinny body does, a fat body can too.

And THIS one baffles me the most: they say, after the age of 28, you can’t party, you start to have back pain, your metabolism is slow, you can’t function without sleeping early. And then you give me unsolicited health advices. I am sorry for you, but please let me feel my body, let me love my body and love the way it ages.

I know many people are worried about their loved ones’ well-being. But if you’re my loved one, the best you can do is helping me love my body. When I love my body, I will feel it better, I will know what is needed, what is not. And aging is not scary. It simply means that you’re alive and you’re living your life.

From now, I will only accept the language of love and appreciation. Although I appreciate your worries about my body, please let me own it, and celebrate it the way it is. My goal is never to be alive as long as possible, but to live so I can enjoy my time, to live fully, peacefully and lovingly.

I claim back my body. Fully, kindly and patiently.

My body and my green mesh crocheted by me💃

22 NĂM VÔ DUYÊN

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22 năm cuộc đời. Và chưa bao giờ biết cảm giác được người khác thích và theo đuổi như thế nào…

24/24 giờ lừa dối bản thân, lừa dối những người xung quanh rằng mình chẳng cần bố con nhà thằng nào, rằng mình hoàn toàn có thể tự mua vui cho bản thân, rằng mình đang hưởng thụ cuộc sống, rằng mình độc thân vui vẻ.

Nhưng sự thật thì vẫn là sự thật.

Mình cô đơn lắm.

Mình tủi thân lắm.

Mình hay nằm mơ giữa ban ngày về một ngày đặc biệt nào đó mình sẽ được gặp một người thật đặc biệt. Một người thực sự muốn tìm hiểu về mình. Và chúng mình tìm hiểu nhau. Cùng nhau làm những thứ đặc biệt mà chỉ hai người thích nhau mới làm…

Thực tế là mình gặp nhiều người mà mình thấy thú vị lắm. Và thực tế cũng là chẳng có một ai thấy mình thú vị cả. (cười)

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Mình hay tự hỏi bản thân: “Chẳng nhẽ mình xấu xí lắm hay sao mà mãi chả có ai thích???”

Rồi mình than với trăng, với trời: “Bao giờ mới tới duyên???”

Buột miệng than vãn trời đất vậy thôi nhưng thật ra mình biết vấn đề chả phải do định mệnh hay duyên số. Vấn đề là ở mình hết. Dù có nỗ lực tỏ ra cởi mở, lạc quan yêu đời đến mấy thì cái sự tự ti, tuyệt vọng, sự giả tạo và cái “tôi” ngang bướng của bản thân vẫn cứ ì ạch ở đấy. Những suy nghĩ tiêu cực, tư duy lười biếng dường như đã ăn quá sâu vào tiềm thức của mình, phản ánh qua cách mình nói, cách mình tiếp xúc với mọi thứ xung quanh. Dù không rõ ràng, nhưng dường như không ai là không cảm nhận được rằng, có cái gì đó rất “off” trong cách mình ứng xử với họ. Nhưng may mắn thay, ai cũng có cuộc sống của riêng họ và chẳng ai buồn để tâm mình “off” ở chỗ nào.

Đúng là cái “tôi”. Cái “tôi” của ta, của người thực sự rất nguy hiểm.

Cái “tôi” quan sát xã hội. Cái “tôi” đánh giá. Cái “tôi” bắt chước. Cái “tôi” tự vệ.

Cái “tôi” bảo: Phải lạnh lùng. Phải giữ khoảng cách. Phải nói A. Không được nói B. Không làm C…

Cứ như thế, cái “tôi” chiếm đoạt cả thân xác, cả tâm trí. Cái “tôi” điều khiển cách người ta sống, cách người ta đối nhân xử thế, thậm chí là cách người ta ưu tiên các giá trị của bản thân. Và thế là con người ta chẳng thể phân biệt rõ ai, cái gì mới thực sự quan trọng đối với họ. Tệ hơn rằng, tưởng rằng cái “tôi” của mỗi người sẽ giúp họ độc đáo, khác biệt với thế giới. Nhưng thực tế, cái “tôi” chẳng những ép người ta phải cư xử theo một kiểu cách nhất định, cái “tôi” còn xây nên một bức tưởng lớn, cô lập con người ta với thế giới.

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Nói đi nói lại, dù sao thì cũng chỉ có chính mình mới có khả năng tự giải quyết vấn đề của bản thân.

Bắt đầu từ việc hạ cái “tôi” và thành thật với chính mình.

Does my skin color affect my chance of traveling/volunteering?

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It’s been 5 months since I started saving for my summer trip in Thailand. Although I still have 4 more months until the departure day, I already feel super excited about it. Yet, a recent incident has occurred and it may cause me to change the whole plan.

In the beginning, everything seemed to run smoothly since I’d found out about a website called Workaway – a place where people can find projects to work in return for free accommodation (or even food) and cultural exchange while traveling. I soon signed up for it, sending out my requests to potential Thai hosts (though I know that it might be too early to do that but I couldn’t help myself). After a few days, I received 2 replies saying yes, decided to go for one, had some exchange with the host and extended my trip from a week to a month.

To be honest, at first, I was so scared of the idea that I might be not getting any acceptance just because…I’m Asian. I was made to believe that those Thai hosts preferred white people to join their projects since I could hardly see any Asian’s feedback on their pages. Some even make it clear that they only accept “white people”. Yes, they use the exact words: “WHITE PEOPLE”. I can totally understand if many hosts need English native speakers for their English teaching projects. But “WHITE PEOPLE ONLY”? I’m quite intrigued by the reason behind. Is that the “white fetish” people’ve been talking about? Is “white fetish” even a thing?

Anyways, I was glad that I found a perfect project to work for. It would be in a small province in the suburbs of Bangkok, definitely not a touristy place with sunflower fields and golden temples. Not to mention the host, she seemed to be trust-worthy with all the positive feedbacks. I felt so lucky – “So maybe this racism thing is not as serious as I thought it was. Maybe I was just overthinking.”

And as the host and I mailed back and forth, I was so sure that I got my “reservation”.

Unfortunately, the story doesn’t end there. As soon as I informed the host of my exact arrival date (because she insisted me to), she turned over and said that all positions had been occupied.

“What???”

“Why it has to be right after I booked my flight tickets?”

“Doesn’t she know that I decided to extend my staying (which eventually led me to book my flight tickets in accordance with the dates) just because of her assurance?”

“Doesn’t she know that I’m very poor and it took me a lot to eventually have this trip?”

A full-blown panic attack.

…

Back to this moment, when the panic attack is gone, I’m still quite confused and nervous. A lot of questions are being stuck in my head and mostly around whether I’m able to find another decent project/host. Even when I’ve calmed myself down and started to send out new requests on Workaway, I feel lost. Negative thoughts keep filling my head no matter how hard I try.

So my story is going nowhere. Hope I could soon find direction for it. I really don’t want to blame this on racism because it’s not. But since I have to get back to the search again, racism is definitely taken into account.

For now, I’ll just continue breathing and hoping for the best.

“It’s ok to not be ok”

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The first month of 2017 has been like magic to me. And no, I didn’t win the lottery or gain any materialistic things. But I did find a thing. A thing that I’m not sure whether it is tangible. All I can assure is that has shed light on me after days of darkness. The self-love community on the Internet. More specifically, the body positivity on Instagram.

Some people might be questioning how some randoms posts or pictures of strangers on the Internet could dramatically change someone’s life. I agree. Those things do not change me. Instead, they shift me towards positivity by telling me how I should stay myself, stay true, stay beautiful.

From that on, I’VE BEEN THE ONE WHO DECIDED TO CHANGE. It’s my decision to change the way I view the world, myself and the relations between us. It took me a while to figure out everything. It took a lot of self-reflection as I was constantly questioning my own existence. Then finally, it came to the point that I realized it was my mindset that had been torturing myself, making me suffer toxic feelings the whole time. And I knew for sure that it was time for me to do something about it.

I’ve embarked on this self-love journey, the journey of optimism. I’ve started learning how to love myself, to try my best to exclude negativity and anything related to that. At the same time, I also realized that the journey of fully embracing myself is definitely not easy. Lots of lessons out there are waiting to be learned.

Now, I’m dealing with one of those lessons.

The lesson began when I went to school again after a long holiday season. It’s been a week of new semester, internship, part-time job. I truly want to believe in myself that I could handle everything. However, there is a part of me that is getting weaker and weaker. At first, I could not comprehend that since I was so sure that I was stronger than ever.

Fortunately, my light-bulb moment has been underway. The point I’ve been missing is that I am a human and I’m going against nature. More specifically, while I’m trying too hard to be upbeat all the time, I’m accidentally suppressing all of my other feelings. The stress, the rage, the grief, the guilt, the disappointment, etc. I thought I was putting on my fences to not let them in. The fact, unfortunately, is that they are inside me. They are parts of me. And what I’m doing is trapping them inside. I forgot I’m human and it’s normal to have those feelings. No normal human beings can be smiley 24/7.

Therefore, as the problem has been defined, I’m taking action. I’m accepting that side of me. I’m letting them out by writing, sharing the world my story. To be told that everything will be ok. To be told that It’s ok to not be ok.