Today, I received the offer letter. I was not anticipating it at all. Instead, for the most of the week, my mind was pre-occupied with certain scary thoughts. I had this hope that the offer will not be successful, somehow, the institution will reject me. I had this hope, even though everyone is assuming that I am getting the offer, that my work plan has already gone well beyond 2018, that I will start work officially when the new year starts. I am not sure if anyone even thinks about the possibility of things that could happen. Well, I may not ‘pass’ the medical examination, given my pre-existing conditions. I may not accept the offer, even when I verbally agreed. Or simply, I am not suitable.
When I received the phone call, I was not happy. My hope was trashed in a split second. I have no idea why I have such negative hopes, even though it was almost certain that I will get the offer since we were just going through the formalities and bureaucratic practices to finalise the offer.
It seems more likely that I am avoiding 2017.
I fear work. Being in a pressure cooker.
I fear my state of mind. Stretching over the limits.
I fear mistakes. Eroding my confidence bit-by-bit.
I fear bureaucracy. Caging my free will and self.
I fear uncertainty. Stirring up the anxiety from within.
I fear myself. Losing my sanity and self-mastery.
It is part of life, I know.
It is part of adulting, I know.
But it is the feeling of being a pawn, controlled by not one, not two, but three equally skilful players. When you make a move, most of the time, it will not be out of free will, but on command. And you will be questioned by the other players who did not agree with the move. In the meantime, you received more commands from different players. You stood still, real still, wondering who to listen to. You cannot take sides, or your life will be miserable. And you know, rationality has no chance of surviving in such a match. I am the pawn.