Inside the Pressure Cooker: A Story of Grief, Overwork, and Sambar Vegetables

Grief and overwork go hand in hand. I say this with utter confidence because that is exactly how I have been living my life for the past five years. The notion of slowing down and trying to achieve a work-life balance is a joke to me; there is only work, and life just drags along parallel to it.

My first true jolt came in the summer of 2023—or was it 2024? I fail to remember now. I was hospitalised for severe breathlessness. The problem is that I have always loved my work. Across different organisations, I have poured so much of myself into my career that I have had nothing left to pour into myself or anyone else.As I lay on that hospital bed, looking at the petrified face of my four-year-old son, reality hit me. I realised I needed to prioritise him over any other passion or interest, starting with my career. Looking into his scared little eyes, I swore to myself that I would slow down.

Fast forward to right now: I do not think I actually have slowed down. While I have not been hospitalised for breathlessness again, my PCOD is completely out of control. My quarterly scans and blood tests happen like clockwork. Of course, it is all stress-induced.

My son’s life is equally stressful. At just seven years old, he faces monthly tests and daily homework. Our household has become a pressure cooker of daily, monthly, and yearly ambitions. He and I are like a medley of sambar vegetables—carrots, potatoes, onions, brinjal, and drumsticks—bubbling furiously next to each other inside the pot. We have not found our calming idli or dosa yet (pun fully intended, wink wink).

Because of this, I sadly feel like I have failed as a mother. My son has grown up watching a high-cortisol mother, and he has mirrored that exact trait. At this point, I am ready to try anything with him to blow off some steam and completely forget about work.

Our options are down to three choices:

A)Drowning ourselves in a swimming pool overflowing with hot chocolate (How many years have I thrown this wish out into the world? Do you even exist, Mr. Willy Wonka?).

B)Going to meditation classes (Cue the sniggering; two absolute chatterboxes going to meditation? Good luck to us and the rest of the class).

C)Enrolling in Mixed Martial Arts (MMA) to punch the life out of a punching bag, or whatever it is they do there.

And that is my story of overcoming grief—truth be told, I probably never did.