Unfinished

Hello Stranger,

Or perhaps I’m the stranger now after all this time. I apologise for being silent for almost a year.

I have missed you all!

First of all, I should mention that the blog domain is now lostinsidemyhead.com. It’s a small change from the old one, but if you’ve bookmarked any of my previous articles, those links probably won’t work anymore, as they won't automatically redirect. You’ll need to find them again here.

This was actually the name I wanted when I first started this blog, but it wasn’t available back then.

Frankly, I was thinking that maybe it was time for me to rebrand this lovely blog, but I guess even after all these years, I’m still getting lost in my own head.

I hope you’ll believe me when I say that my absence wasn’t intentional. I actually tried to post several times, maybe five, but I couldn’t finish any of the articles. Some were longer, others shorter, yet I couldn’t find a way to conclude them, and I wasn’t happy with how they turned out either.

What has been holding me back the most, I think, is the feeling that I need to write a big piece to explain almost a year of silence, which is not an easy task.

Honestly, I feel like I have many things to talk about, yet at the same time, nothing at all. The title of this article feels rather fitting, because lately I keep leaving so many things unfinished.

I genuinely don’t have an exciting life, but my inability to write truly upsets me. The lack of articles this year is proof enough, but it goes beyond that — I can’t even bring myself to journal, no matter how many times I try. It feels like a mental block, and it has been so frustrating to deal with. I’ve gone from being able to express myself with ease to feeling completely dry whenever I try to write, so I apologise in advance if this article doesn’t turn out to be very interesting. Maybe it’s just me venting about life.

Even this year has been mostly a blur, and it feels like I’m reliving the same day over and over again. It’s been driving me a little insane while draining me at the same time.

Of course, I have my own issues, so let’s see… what should I talk about today?

I don’t want to talk about work in this article, but I’ll share a few updates here and go into more detail in another one. To keep it short, I was recently moved to a new team, and for now, I feel like I’m doing well. I genuinely felt relieved when I received the news because, in my previous team, I had started to dread every day and kept thinking about how I needed to be moved to a new team as soon as possible or even quit my job. Compared to last year’s disappointing performance rate of “good” in November, this year I received “great” in the last two review cycles. Unfortunately, that didn’t do much to lift my mood, because dealing with my manager became more and more difficult, and the feedback was always contradictory. At first, I didn’t think much of it, but then several things happened that made me realise it was personal. Having a decent manager makes such a difference, and I’ll admit, I came very close to smacking my former one multiple times. My hardcore Romanian side, which I try so hard to keep hidden, was definitely trying to come out and play.

Now I’m trying to approach work differently, so I don’t tie my worth and identity to my job like I’ve been doing for the past three years.

It’s also crazy to think that it’s already been three years since I started working in tech.

It took me such a long time to feel comfortable saying I’m a software engineer. For the longest time, it felt unreal, like I was pretending every time I said it out loud. I know now that this is my reality, but the imposter syndrome never really went away. Some days, it’s horrible and makes me feel like I’m terrible at what I do or even in the wrong field, while other days I actually feel pretty confident in my skills. Do I think I’m a great software engineer? Absolutely not. My work is full-stack, which means I often feel underprepared in multiple areas instead of focused on one, and I’m also extremely self-critical. I doubt I’ll be calling myself great at anything anytime soon, because deep down I always feel like I’m not doing enough or that I still have a lot to improve. That’s just who I’ve always been. I wish I were different, but no matter how much I try to change, the self-doubt always creeps back in. Even when I accomplish something, I find it hard to celebrate or be proud of myself because, to me, it just feels like another task crossed off my never-ending to-do list.

I can’t wait to switch to cloud engineering. After spending a lot of time on several projects, both at work and in my free time, completing courses, and learning a lot, I’ve discovered that’s the path I truly enjoy.

I’m actively working toward making that transition because being a jack of all trades but master of none doesn’t suit me. It irritates me not to be able to focus on something long enough to feel I’ve actually gotten better at it before moving on to the next thing. Anyway, enough about work.

This year, the blog turned five in April (I’m sorry, I genuinely wanted to post then too), and some of you have been here since 2020. Who still remembers my cabin crew, au pair, and simple law firm job days? When I think about it now, it feels like I’m talking about a completely different person.

I’ve changed so much, not just in my career but in general. I truly believe I’m changing every day. In some ways, it’s a good change, and in others, oh well!

Still, I think I’d be more terrified if I were the same person I was years ago because I hated my life back then and felt trapped. I turned twenty-six in May, and ever since, I’ve found myself reflecting more and more on my life. I can’t say I love it now, and I’ll tell you why. I’m a woman in tech, and in my effort to prove that I’m worthy of this job without a degree or previous experience, I’ve pushed myself constantly. My hard work has paid off in terms of my career, but somewhere along the way, I have started neglecting myself.

I feel like I’ve abandoned myself in so many ways. My health has worsened, my sleep is questionable, and most days I’m both restless and exhausted. I rarely feel excitement anymore, and I don’t look forward to much. My life has become just work, and I’ve turned my job and constant studying into my whole identity, which makes me want to scream.

It also makes me sad to realise that even my family has started seeing me differently since 2022, proudly telling everyone about my job title. I feel like I went from being the black sheep of the family to someone they’re finally proud of, even though I didn’t follow a traditional path, and I stopped following many Romanian beliefs, including religion.

A part of me will probably always wish I had been enough before as well, regardless of my job title or what I can provide.

That’s probably another reason why I work so hard. I’m terrified of losing another job while living abroad because I know I’ll have no real support if I can’t support myself. I might hear words of encouragement, but actions always speak louder. I don’t want to live in the past, yet there are moments that shaped me and lessons I can never forget. What I know for certain is that I’m on my own. I’ve always been the backup, the one who has to figure it out, no matter what!

Nobody is coming to save me, and it all falls on me, so failure isn’t an option.

I have to keep going, building safety nets and backup plans, making sure I’m always ready. I can’t let the past repeat itself just because I didn’t learn what it was trying to teach me.

But do you know how exhausting that is? Some people might call it strength, but I’m burning myself out. The truth is, I don’t really have another choice.

I swear, every time I think I’ve hit rock bottom, life knocks on my door smiling, ready to show me a whole new level of low. I am beyond exhausted, and I’m tired of everything. The migraines come almost daily now, with throbbing pain that can last for days and waves of nausea that appear out of nowhere. My sleep is poor, and I go to bed late most nights, so, honestly, I am to blame here because I love reading at night and I find it difficult to stop sometimes.

However, even when I manage to rest more, I tend to wake up multiple times during the night. Then there’s the weight gain, which at this point feels completely out of control. I may not eat healthy every single day, but I do my best in general, and despite the pain, I still try to move daily, even a bit, yet nothing seems to improve.

For the last couple of months, I’ve had the added discomfort of swelling almost every bloody day. My knees have always been a problem, but now my lower legs, ankles, and feet are affected too. It doesn’t matter if I move, keep my legs elevated, or take the medication prescribed by a private pain management specialist.

Nothing works. The pain no longer stops at my knees; it spreads down my legs, burning constantly, and when it starts, it makes me grit my teeth from the intensity.

Some days, even walking for ten minutes triggers the pain, and it lasts the entire day.

Doctors aren’t taking me seriously, what a surprise! I’ve been gaslighted by so many of them for twenty fucking years. If only someone had taken me seriously when this all started, maybe my life would have been different. Perhaps I wouldn’t be in the situation I am now, because what once was pain that disrupted my life has turned into something I could easily call a disability.

I need to accept the truth that this has been my life for the past few years, and that in recent months, my body has gone from telling me I need help to screaming for it.

I feel helpless, and I’m terrified of what my life could look like if I don’t get help soon...

In the last four months, things have gotten so bad that I had to restart the investigations, and this time I went private. Thankfully, I have private health insurance, and all my appointments and scans have been fully covered. Otherwise, I would have gone broke already.

I kept putting this off for no particular reason other than knowing it might not lead anywhere, based on my previous disastrous medical experiences. I wish I were wrong, but sadly, I rarely am. All roads seem to lead right back to where I started, and I’m no closer to an actual answer than I was before.

I have now seen an orthopaedic surgeon, a pain management specialist, and a rheumatologist. I had X-rays and MRI scans for both knees and even my lower back.

The orthopaedic surgeon doesn’t know what exactly caused it, and in the diagnosis letter, I can see something very similar to what I was told back in 2020. I didn’t tell him I’ve been carrying this chronic pain for twenty years at the beginning. I couldn’t, because I wasn't sure about doctor-patient confidentiality, and I know insurance won’t cover anything considered chronic. I had to say it was a new condition that started around three years ago.

He kept repeating during the appointment that my cartilage has thinned considerably and that he can’t give me back time. He told me I might need to accept the fact that I will probably always be in pain. He has no idea that I genuinely don’t remember the last time I wasn’t in pain for even one bloody day. My knees are basically defective. To put it plainly, my kneecaps are flatter than they should be, which has led to the thinning of the cartilage. He told me he can’t heal this. He could try keyhole surgery to see what he can do to prevent the cartilage from wearing down further or to slow the process, hoping it might slightly heal naturally, but it will never go back to being fully healthy. He also said I should avoid steroid injections because they can accelerate the damage. Funny, considering other doctors made me get them multiple times without a second thought about the risks.

There’s also a big chance that surgery could cause even more pain instead of helping, and in that case, we’d have to consider a more invasive procedure. Still, he couldn’t guarantee that anything would truly help. He believes I’ll always have pain. If it weren’t for how intense the physical pain has become, I think I would be completely detached from all of this by now. I didn’t have high hopes to begin with, but hearing it said out loud broke something in me. Before I left the hospital, I went to the restroom and, for five minutes, I just allowed myself to cry.

I had my follow-up appointment this week, and after I directly asked what information he was sharing with the insurance company, he reassured me that he was only sending them the invoice. I told him this isn’t a new condition and that I’ve been in pain for many years. He said it doesn’t change the outcome and that surgery is the next step, one knee at a time, to see if it makes a positive difference and how long it would take me to recover.

He also mentioned that he will try PRP (platelet-rich plasma) during the surgery.

Life sucks, and I can’t say it has ever been particularly kind to me, but now I can’t even imagine a life without this pain anymore. Five years ago, I chose not to have surgery because the doctor at the hospital was rude, dismissive, and constantly blamed me for my pain. He made me feel belittled and ashamed. I was also scared, financially struggling, and working as an au pair without a contract because I was desperate. It still makes me angry when I think about it.

Now, at least I have a permanent contract as a junior engineer, and if all goes well, I might be promoted next year. I’ll try to have the surgery soon. I doubt it can get worse than this. All my worst fears about my knees — fears I’ve had since I was a kid — have come true, and even worse than I imagined. At this point, I can’t keep waiting for a miracle or for medicine, injections, physiotherapy, or weight loss to fix it, because none of those things has made any difference in the past, and they certainly aren't helping now either.

Miracles don’t exist, and even if they do, I hardly doubt I'll ever be lucky enough to experience one.

I’ll always be a realist, even if people mistake me for a pessimist, because hope can do more damage than anything else. That’s one of the harshest lessons I’ve ever had to learn!

There are a few other things I would have liked to include in this article, but I’ll make sure to write again soon. I promise.

This article has already become longer than I expected, but I’d like to finish it on a more positive note.

In the last few months, I haven’t been able to do any workouts involving my lower body, so I started going to the pool. I used to have aquaphobia for years, until 2018, to be precise, because when I was a kid, my mom and I almost drowned at the beach when a big wave came. I don’t remember it as I was too young, but my mom does, and for years she tried to protect me from the sea. Eventually, her fear became mine too, even though I always loved being in the water.

It’s an interesting example of how someone else’s fears can end up becoming your own.

Funny how, despite my fear for years, going to the beach has always been my favourite. Proof that two things can coexist.

I mentioned before that in 2018, I had to pretend I knew how to swim, or at least not drown, during the physical exams to become a flight attendant.

I couldn’t handle water above my chest without feeling like my chest was tightening.

I guess it was a panic attack, because my heart would race and my body would go completely rigid.

I only practised for about three months before I got the job. I never learned to swim properly, just how to move around the pool and control or better said, hide my reactions.

I could never bring myself to jump into the water, no matter what; it simply terrified me. For my second cabin crew job, I had to do it, literally running on a slippery slide that looked like the airplane one and jumping in. Awful!

That was my last time going to a pool until three months ago, when I suddenly decided I just wanted to go. It was an impulse born out of frustration after realising I couldn’t even do basic exercises at home or at the gym anymore. I used to manage last year, and even for part of this one, despite the pain. I was careful, but at least I still could.

Long story short, I thought I would still feel the same fear and pressure in the pool after so many years without practice, but it only lasted five minutes before it disappeared. I was so upset with everything that being in the water actually felt relaxing, and I realised I could move and bend my legs without feeling much pain.

Now I submerge my head underwater and swim like that without fear. It calms me down, and my body feels light. I also go to aqua aerobics classes several times a week and push myself to move and stretch. I realised I burn almost twice as many calories as I did with my regular weightlifting workouts. It’s mostly safe for my knees during the session, but the pain does come back tenfold once I’m out of the pool.

I want to take proper swimming lessons again for two or three months, maybe longer, because this time I actually want to learn how to swim correctly and keep going with it.

I find it a little amusing that one of my biggest fears has turned into something that relaxes me and helps my brain quiet down for a while. My thoughts slow down completely when I’m in the water, especially when my head is underwater.

I should have started this again sooner, but now I won’t let it go.

When life gives me lemons, I eat the lemons like a psycho, because I love them.

Another activity I randomly decided to try, after thinking about it since I was a kid, is archery. I only tried it once many years ago and loved it, but it was one of those activities my mom couldn’t afford for me, and I don’t think there were any clubs in my small town anyway.

Now I’m almost done with the beginner course, and even in my first class, with barely any practice, I managed to shoot straight into the centre of the target — and I have that on video too! I actually felt proud of myself, which is such a rare moment for me.

The only downside is that each session lasts ninety minutes, and I need to stand the whole time. The pain becomes unbearable during most of it, which makes me angry, but I try to channel that anger into focus, and that’s when my aim is the best and closest to the centre.

Anyway, I’ll write more about this soon, but all I can say for now is that I love it, and I’m determined to become a great archer!

And the final update is that after almost four years of having waist-long hair, I decided to chop it off for my birthday, right above my shoulders. It was a bit of a shock on the first day, but I got used to it quickly and felt such a relief. It’s now been almost six months, and my hair has grown to mid-back length, but I’m ready to cut it short again. Short hair is so much easier for me to manage, and it has also become wavier. So, if you’ve been contemplating a big chop like I was for two years, maybe this is your sign to finally do it.

Maybe the theory that hair holds memories is true, because I genuinely felt instant relief.

I have very few days when I miss my long hair, but I don’t think I’ll let it grow that long again anytime soon.

Anyway, this is all for today. I’ll be back soon with another article. I can’t truly make up for such a long period of silence, but I’ll try my best.

Thank you for reading, even if there wasn’t much positivity in this long piece.

Take care of yourself, and if there’s anything you can take from this article, let it be this: start prioritising yourself before it’s too late!

With love,

A.

I really like this Sleep Token song: https://youtu.be/uU5vVT_Cp7c?si=vzKhL0lybOK0WGcd, I hope you will enjoy it too!