It was a fine Friday in the month of June, 2015. I came back from work and had a few phone calls. These calls were with people of different age groups. different viewpoints and different tastes. Yet, one thing stood out that day. My decision to move to Delhi for work was discussed in all of these calls. 

I moved to Delhi in November, 2014 after spending initial four years of my career at Hyderabad. It was a decision based on irresistible remuneration and work opportunity promised by my new firm. I grew up in Delhi, I admired it with all its imperfections. Hence, I had absolutely no problem in accepting a job opportunity here given the pay I was offered. Once I moved here, I felt disconnected with the city and its people. While I was trying to adapt, I do admit that I started to doubt my decision to move here. People I talked to kept on asking if I was happy to be here. Firstly, I was unsure about it. And later, I started to deny the fact that something was perhaps wrong. After all, it was my decision to come here and I was getting a healthy pay.

Fast forward to the aforementioned Friday, and this discussion was all over me. A part of me kept asking if I made a right decision. The other part of me kept convincing that it was a right decision. I was edgy, a bit spent and irritated. I wanted to talk about it with people closest to me. However, they were occupied with unavoidable events in their lives. By the time they were available, I transformed. I convinced myself that I was right. A part of me was surprisingly very angry with those very few people who were not available to listen to me. I did call some of them when I wanted to yell it all out, only to find myself not being able to do so. I disconnected myself from everyone and put on a spectacular mask in front of my parents and siblings. I became different - arrogant, annoying, impatient and vulnerable. Couple of people figured it out, they knew me long enough! Yet for some reasons, they never asked why I was unhappy. Instead they kept telling me that I was unhappy. Throw in some reasonably annoying life events and discussions and it was the beginning of a phase of life which I'll never forget no matter how hard I try.

Vulnerability is not always a good thing. It breeds insecurity. You start to question things that you would never do in a healthy state. I was vulnerable. I was insecure. I started arguments on small things. I used to yell for no real reason. It was a state when I wanted help but I was not ready to ask for it - worried about denial and unacceptability. It was so unlike me. Not so surprisingly people started to gradually ignore and create distances. Also, it started to take a toll on me - physically, mentally and professionally. By the time I realized my mistakes and tried to correct, it was too late. People closest to me were pushed too far away. My attempts to reconcile were futile. Replies were either silent or indifferently vocal. Agony of being a jerk of late and the pain of losing people brought me to a state where I was unsure of things. Me having to catch up with my work was another kick on the butt. Amidst all this I happened to meet a doctor who made it all the more miserable with the terms - bipolar, psychotic and atypical depression.

As new year started, I started to think about making progress in this regard. I started to mingle with people. I missed the ones who went away, so I worked extra hours - 24, 36 and at times 70 hours. I wanted myself to be tired in order to sleep easily. It helped somewhat. I was quick to deliver my project and it eventually got me a Client Focused Delivery award! In reality I was struggling. I was tired and messed up. To do away with all this, I took a break to pamper and fix the broken self. There were couple of people who backed me all the way and it helped greatly.

When I look back at this phase, I feel that it was totally avoidable had I been proactive and rightly vocal. Ironically, it started with a very small matter and became exponentially bigger with each small event. There are some lessons hidden into it. Essence of seeking help at the right time, communication and not confrontation, addressing a doubt and not denying it absolutely, handling depression - these are some of the lessons. But the biggest take away of all this is that it is us who decide the mood of our life - happy or sad. It is a philosopher's common sense; I learnt it the hard way.

As far as I am concerned, I still am not what I was. For there are many scars, I may never be the same. However, I am fine. I talk, socialize and celebrate. I feel happy and there is no idiotic vulnerability. I do apologize to the people I disappointed and offended during this time. I really want to be with them again with the promise that I have learnt my lessons, however it is for them to take time and decide if I really deserve it. In the meantime, I must live my life and do what I do best - smile, be silly and write.