The Chaotic Calm

“Do not judge me by my successes, judge me by how many times I fell down and got back up again" -  Nelson Mandela

There is a unique kind of silence that accompanies despair - a suffocating hush that drowns out even your own heartbeat. I have felt it. I have lived it. It started in the early years of my life, when I was young and just beginning to find my way in the world. Back then, I was filled with hope and ambition, eager to prove myself. But life has a way of testing you, sometimes through the very people you think will uplift you.

The Start (ie the Why?)

Very early in my career (it feels like long long ago), I will never forget the day a colleague told me, “You are good for nothing. You will not reach anywhere.”

The words landed like a dagger, cutting through my confidence and leaving me questioning everything I believed about myself. Why would someone do that - someone older, up in the hierarchy (albeit one level), more accomplished (relatively speaking) - just walk all over you. You know why? because they can do so. It gives them a kick and they feel superior at your expense. Lets agree, we all have comes across at least one such clown in our lives (and for me there were many).

What would anyone get by belittling the other - none of this made sense back then - after all I was naïve, inexperienced and innocent (of course all of this makes sense today - but that I will keep for another blog). Those words, as cruel as they were, ignited a fire within me. A fire I could not understand. The words became a constant companion during my struggles, pushing me to prove, not just to the world but to myself, that I was capable of far more than anyone believed.

I was dejected, broken, and utterly defeated. My heart bled silently, but within that pain, something began to awaken. Beneath the layers of hurt, there was a voice - a quiet, defiant whisper that said - One day, I will show you. One day, you will see.

Every breath felt labored (a panic attack that does the same). My body moved, but my soul had retreated, seeking refuge from the storm within. Numbness became my only companion, a cruel paradox where everything hurt, and yet, nothing did. I sat in my room, day after day, staring at walls that seemed closer than they were the day before. The ceiling became more than a ceiling - it was a metaphorical lid, pressing down on dreams that no longer felt like mine.

The Purpose of Life (ie The What?)

That phrase became a mocking echo. I could not tell you what it meant anymore. I could not tell myself why I got out of bed - or why I should. For a few days, I did not.

But here is the thing about falling apart: you learn to rebuild, even if you do not believe you are capable. Your body, mind and heart process things in a unique way (for some it is quick, for others it is delayed - but for all it eventually happens). It was during those bleakest hours, when despair whispered, “You are done,” that something deep inside me refused to surrender. It roared back, “Keep going.”

In that silence, something began to stir - a quiet defiance that refused to accept this as my reality. Anger became my companion, a steady drumbeat in the background of my despair. It was not wild or uncontrollable but a slow rebellion - a refusal to accept that this was all there was to life. It was a roar against the emptiness, a promise to myself that someday, somehow, I would rewrite this story. That someday, the world would see the success born of this struggle.

The Descent Into Darkness (ie The How?)

Before strength, before purpose, before even hope, there was darkness. Each day chipped away at my sense of self: my confidence, my joy, my belief in my worth. The cracks appeared slowly at first - a bad day here, a sleepless night there. But soon, those cracks became fault lines, and everything I had built came crashing down.

People around me asked, “Are you okay?” but how could I answer that when I did not even know what “okay” meant anymore? I was physically present, going through the motions of life, but emotionally absent. Every moment felt heavy, every step forward a rebellion against despair.

And yet, instead of finishing me, the darkness woke something within. A quiet, steady determination surfaced, challenging the despair: “This is not the end.”

The Turning Point (ie And the Then!)

One sleepless night, staring at the ceiling that felt like a lid on my life, I asked myself: What if this is it? What if life never gets better? What if this is all I will ever know?

That thought was terrifying, but it was also transformative. If this was all life had to offer, I could not accept it. I would not. There had to be more, and if life was not going to hand it to me, I would create it.

This was not just about survival anymore. It was about revenge - not against anyone else, but against the version of myself that had given up. I had to prove to myself that I was capable of more, worthy of more (needless to say - I had to prove to that very individual who started this tsunami after all). And what better adage to dawn on you at the right time - “The best form of revenge, after all, is massive success”.

Rising from the Ashes

(By Adnan Chilwan)

I was forged in silence, a restless storm,

A soul once shattered, seeking its form.

Numbness cloaked me, cold and stark,

A rebel lost in the endless dark.

Anger ignited, a spark in the night,

Not to destroy, but to reclaim my light.

The echoes of “you cannot” burned in my chest,

Revenge whispered softly: succeed your best.

Through chaos, I stumbled, a weary fight,

Each tear a fragment, each step a rewrite.

The walls that closed in, I learned to climb,

Turning despair into rhythm, pain into rhyme.

Success is golden, but its luster conceals,

The scars, the battles, the wounds it heals.

Each triumph a chapter, a truth I cannot hide,

A story of shadows where courage abides.

All that glitters has shadows behind,

Lessons in darkness, strength redefined.

From the ashes, I rose, relentless, whole,

Chaos my teacher, purpose my goal.

So let them wonder, let them stare,

The journey unseen is the strength I wear.

For the best revenge is not just to thrive,

But to savor the beauty of being alive.

The Fight Back

Change did not come in a grand, cinematic moment. There was no sudden aha moment, no massive transformation. Real change is quiet. It is slow and gradual. It is messy and painful, and full of doubts. But every small step forward was a rebellion against the version of me that had settled for less.

1. Acceptance

The first battle I won was against my resistance to feeling. For so long, I had fought against the anger, the sadness, the numbness, trying to escape them. But they were relentless. So, instead of running from the storm, I sat in it. I let the rain soak me. I let myself feel everything - the pain, the discomfort, the confusion.

And in that surrender, I found clarity. I realized that being lost did not mean I was broken forever. It simply meant I needed a new path.

2. Self-Awareness

I started paying attention to my thoughts. I noticed how often my inner voice whispered, “You are not good enough. You will never make it.” I would not let anyone else speak to me that way, so why was I letting myself?

Rewriting that narrative became my mission. Every time I thought, “I cannot do this,” I replied with, “But what if I can?” And slowly, those small acts of defiance added up.

3. Taking Action

Strength is not something you are born with; it is something you build. And I built mine one small act at a time.

·       I started journaling. I poured my thoughts onto paper—the good, the bad, the messy, and the chaotic. Seeing my emotions laid bare helped me understand them. It helped me understand myself.

·       I set boundaries. I stopped giving my energy to people and situations that drained me. That meant walking away from some relationships and saying no more often. It was hard, but I realized that       self preservation is not selfish - it is necessary.

·       I moved my body. At first, it was just a walk around the block. Then it became exercise. Eventually, it was running. With every step, I felt a little stronger - not just physically but emotionally. Movement became my therapy, my reminder that I was still alive and capable.

4. Embracing Discomfort

Growth is not comfortable. It forces you to face parts of yourself you would rather ignore. It is painful, messy, and exhausting. But every time I confronted those parts, I became a little braver, a little stronger.

The Struggle 

In my years of struggle there was no one around me. All the old friends (rather acquaintances) had disappeared. Of course can’t blame them - no one wants to associate themselves with a loser (or at least that’s how some of them saw me). To cope with this I literally vanished from the grid. Social life (not that I had one because of my humble background) took a back seat. The only form of entertainment (or rather filling the daily void) was work. But then work within your job description is always limited - therefore I started doing work beyond my work - that’s the only way you will progress professionally (know more than what you are hired to do and do more than what you are paid for).

Revenge - Massive Success

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, I started to see the results of my rebellion against despair. The numbness slowly faded, replaced by real, raw emotions. I rediscovered joy. I felt sadness, yes, but I also felt hope. And with hope came purpose.

Purpose was not a grand revelation. It was not some monumental, life-changing discovery. It was in the small, everyday moments: the warmth of the sun on my skin during a morning walk, the laughter of a loved one, the satisfaction of a job well done. Purpose was not something I found; it was something I created.

And with purpose came success. To the world, my success looked shiny and perfect - a string of achievements, accolades, and milestones. But behind that glittering exterior lay the truth: every ounce of success was hard-won. Every accomplishment was built on the foundation of a struggle I had fought tooth and nail to overcome. Because the best revenge is not just proving others wrong - it is proving yourself right.

Full circle

Fast forward years later, life brought us full circle. All the so called acquaintances started to reappear. Some frantic calls (that of course went unanswered - lol), some emotional messages (saying where have you been buddy - lol) and some tall claims (we always knew you would become someone - haha). And then there was the moment of truth (the big reveal). 

The same colleague who once undermined me stood in my office - not to criticize me, but to ask for a job. That moment was not about revenge; it was about transformation. It was proof of how far I had come and the strength I had built from their doubt. At that moment I was not elated or satisfied - I felt sorry for them (for all such people), and I just looked at him and said - thank you, if it was not for you I wouldn’t be here. He was so elated to hear that (believe me he even tried to take credit for it - lol), little did he know what I meant or how cynical I was. Life has an extraordinary way of turning pain into power, doesn’t it?

A Final Word | The Universal Truth

All that glitters has a story behind it. Strength is not about never falling. It is about rising every single time. It is about taking anger and turning it into determination, rebellion and transforming it into resilience, and revenge, shaping it into radiant success. It is about honoring the scars without letting them define you.

The journey from anger to massive success is not a straight line. It is a maze, a story of chaos and courage, of falling and rising again. But every twist and turn teaches you something priceless: you are stronger than you think.

If you are reading this, know that you, too, have that strength within you. Even in your lowest moments, there is a part of you that refuses to give up. Listen to that part. Nurture it. Let it guide you.

So rise - again and again. Success is waiting - not just in the accolades, but in the quiet triumph of knowing you did not give up. Because in the journey from numbness to purpose, finding strength in chaos is not just a phase - it is the path we walk, every single day. 

Life is messy and unpredictable, but it is also full of second chances. You do not need to have everything figured out. You just need to take the next step. And then the one after that. Until you find your sense of purpose - until you find your sense of belonging - and until you reach your Chaotic Calm.

PS

Before I sign off this blog, I know what all of you reading this are eager to know - what happened with the ex-colleague - did I kick him out of my office or had a go at him - you guys are not getting any of that dramatic ending - well well well - I gave him a job. Why? Otherwise there would be no difference between him and me.