That day, I woke up with my blood poured out. No one noticed that I was bleeding. That was the worst part of it. I was on my own. It was on the inside that no one would be able to help. It was a torture. All the things in the chart were all in Greek. Hyping and bashing everywhere. I wasn’t able to move. I was tied.
It hurt a lot. A lot.
It was just a three months ago when I got involved into the promises of prosperity. I was flying blind. The promises soon perished. It was a doom. There was darkness all around. No light could be foreseen.
I was down thirty percent…
I whispered, “Is this the end or…?”
Down to forty percent….
My work was affected. The focus was gone. Before I knew it, I became an irate one that I once hated. Being easily irritated was the new me. My sisters were bothered of such behavior. My father tried confronting me as if he could do something but because of his high temper we always ended up with the devil’s advocate. It was an uphill battle. Still, I loved him. I knew he was just trying to help but there’s no way he could help. I loved him even more. On the other hand, my mother always watches the news so she understood what was happening. She didn’t say any words that could make me devastated even though I already was. She believed that I could surpass it and all she knew was I was strong. Well, that was what I showed her because I didn’t want her even my dad to be shaken and lose hope with what it was supposed to be. I thought I showed her enough strength but her actions were so comforting, acknowledging that she knew what was happening in the inside of me. She didn’t bother to ask me anything and that I didn’t know why. She somehow pictured a bit of peace in the middle of the raging waves of blood. I loved her the most.
I saw the devil and it felt like letting big wounds swell without the capability moving a muscle. It felt like having an operation without a shot of anesthesia. I couldn’t blame anyone in putting me into this situation since I first wanted it. I wish the ground would swallow me up and set my peace. My “what ifs”cried louder and louder.
“I should still endure the pain…”
“What should I do?” I asked myself with my hands covering my face. My eyes had watered like they never had. It was more painful than a heartbreak.
Down forty three percent…
I was frustrated. Down forty five percent…
A deep breath came out without my control.
I stood up and walk in the lobby for a while. Thinking that I should do something, I rushed and went back to my desk.
The numbers continued to bleed. I held my breath.
Liquidating all my positions into a loss enabled me to breathe. Finally, I sighed.
I was in the middle of being defeated but relieved.
I bought some ice cream, treated myself a movie, and ate a piece of chicken in Savory. At last, I became free: worry free, anxious free and free from bondage. The action overlapped the darkness deep within me. I saw a bitter light of walking away from the battle. Quitting was an option this time. However, the calling was too strong.
It was like more than three days when I stayed away from the market. I kept on thinking if it was really for me. Internalizing the thoughts I had before the peace I was enjoying had gone away, a glimpse of yesterday had shined. An internal motivation of not surrendering arose.
In the following days, I saw myself reading helpful blogs and trying promising positions. Bad trades have become common but they don’t hurt that much. Not anymore. Maybe I became tougher. Maybe.
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