Hello,
I preface all this by disclosing that I understand I could've prevented all this, had I studied/worked harder. My life was lucky in that I was allowed to coast, for most of my life, and I wonder if a lack of true suffering is what's left me here, through a series of decisions that in the moment felt right. And now, I sit writing this post, looking back over the past few years. I can't help but wonder if maybe the universe has a joke, and if I'm the punchline.
I worked for 9 years in a role that I didn't realize until the end had sucked everything out of me. It was easy to distract myself, but nigh-impossible to move in. It was easy work, and I was content, for a time. I was able to attend college (Didn't graduate, didn't make enough to pay my debts/tuition), I was able to afford bills (Barely, but just enough to not scream each day). My friend got a job at a MAJOR company, having almost no experience, and this fueled me (Primarily through jealousy and a realization at how much of a loser i'd been) to find work. After nearly two years of working, I found it. The thing I'd sought, a role at my own major company. I didn't realize though, just how easy I'd had it. This new role was nothing like my education or experience had me prepared for. I was a computer guy, I had wanted to learn networking and computers since I was a kid. This position had me in tight suits, sweating as I replaced pumps and dumped out acid bins. I F-ing hated it, it made me cry. I'm such a loser, that when I'd drive 2 hours to my job, I'd debate on driving off a bridge. I burned through my PTO because of frequent burnout, my lack of fortitude, of discipline, was one of my biggest shames. The 12 hour shifts weren't bad, everybody else seemed to love the work and was otherwise born for it. I have no idea how I floundered and survived for over a year.
My biggest regret, my biggest shame came when I had a massive panic attack on the road home, when my skin burned and I began to shake. I hated my job, I made good money but I knew I had no chance of getting out. I begged my manager for help, transferring either my schedule (From graveyard to days) or helping me get an interview for another position in the company. Neither options were available, the company had locked down all hiring and internal transitions, meaning I was literally locked into my circle of hell until another 365 days passed. I turned in my resignation notice maybe a week later.
This brings me to my partner, without whom, I couldn't have done it. She's been incredibly supportive to me, she's my rock and my spiritual guide. When I had my panic attack, she sat up with me all night, discussing options. In the end, she told me that my mental health wasn't worth the risk. She supported me in my decision to leave the role. She helped me relax, and spend the next few months looking for work. She has spent her whole life knowing what she's wanted. She's spent every waking moment since she hit 18 working toward what she does, and we've had a couple conversations about my feeling of insecurity. I love that she has what she's always wanted, I just felt envious because she knew what she wanted, and how to get there. I'd spent my life hopping from one career to the next, and now it feels like the universe has told me to cash in my chips. In case I didn't fully communicate it, I felt shame in knowing I am inadequate. I cannot leverage my skills in such a way that I can earn any kind of role that I can fit into properly. I feel like no matter where i go, I will hate it, and that scares me.
I found a role with a company, but it's the graveyard shift, and it removes our weekends together. While it allows me to pay my share of bills now, I have almost zero time with her, and she with I. I am ashamed to admit that it's hit me really hard. The routine we had established was gone. Yeah, I know it's a good thing that I have a job, and it's so good that I do. I can afford bills, and repairs to my car; but I make half of what I did, and rightfully so for me quitting. Every night, before I come into work, I kiss my girlfriend goodbye, and wonder if she likes it better now that she has weekends to herself, and I am at home when she's working; but regardless, nothing I do will matter.
I'll never earn a life that'll let me build what I want, and I know it's because I chose the wrong things to pursue. I wasted my life, I wasted my time and money. Because I didn't try harder in my degree, I'll never have one.
If there is a God, I pray to them every night for death. People like me, the unproductive, I don't think the universe has a trash can big enough. We're told to work for what we want, we're told all it takes is just a bit more effort. My effort has taken the form of discipline. Over the past week, I've been getting really sick during my shifts. Either due to anxiety or something else, I've been throwing up a lot. I was given a sick day a week ago, but since then I haven't taken one. I work my shift, at my desk, and go to the bathroom if I feel nauseous.
I pray that this isn't my routine forever. I think that's when I get hit the hardest, is looking into the future and seeing myself at this same desk, during these same hours. I need more stimulation, I need another chance to be a real person. But because I spent so long stagnating in a role that swallowed my soul, I feel that I just don't have the character to make any workplace more endearing.
I'm very sorry, for all my word salad. I'm sorry that I'm just another whiner. I swear I'm trying, but the baby-steps feel toxic and poisonous, like i'm taking disingenous steps that won't lead anywhere.
I preface all this by disclosing that I understand I could've prevented all this, had I studied/worked harder. My life was lucky in that I was allowed to coast, for most of my life, and I wonder if a lack of true suffering is what's left me here, through a series of decisions that in the moment felt right. And now, I sit writing this post, looking back over the past few years. I can't help but wonder if maybe the universe has a joke, and if I'm the punchline.
I worked for 9 years in a role that I didn't realize until the end had sucked everything out of me. It was easy to distract myself, but nigh-impossible to move in. It was easy work, and I was content, for a time. I was able to attend college (Didn't graduate, didn't make enough to pay my debts/tuition), I was able to afford bills (Barely, but just enough to not scream each day). My friend got a job at a MAJOR company, having almost no experience, and this fueled me (Primarily through jealousy and a realization at how much of a loser i'd been) to find work. After nearly two years of working, I found it. The thing I'd sought, a role at my own major company. I didn't realize though, just how easy I'd had it. This new role was nothing like my education or experience had me prepared for. I was a computer guy, I had wanted to learn networking and computers since I was a kid. This position had me in tight suits, sweating as I replaced pumps and dumped out acid bins. I F-ing hated it, it made me cry. I'm such a loser, that when I'd drive 2 hours to my job, I'd debate on driving off a bridge. I burned through my PTO because of frequent burnout, my lack of fortitude, of discipline, was one of my biggest shames. The 12 hour shifts weren't bad, everybody else seemed to love the work and was otherwise born for it. I have no idea how I floundered and survived for over a year.
My biggest regret, my biggest shame came when I had a massive panic attack on the road home, when my skin burned and I began to shake. I hated my job, I made good money but I knew I had no chance of getting out. I begged my manager for help, transferring either my schedule (From graveyard to days) or helping me get an interview for another position in the company. Neither options were available, the company had locked down all hiring and internal transitions, meaning I was literally locked into my circle of hell until another 365 days passed. I turned in my resignation notice maybe a week later.
This brings me to my partner, without whom, I couldn't have done it. She's been incredibly supportive to me, she's my rock and my spiritual guide. When I had my panic attack, she sat up with me all night, discussing options. In the end, she told me that my mental health wasn't worth the risk. She supported me in my decision to leave the role. She helped me relax, and spend the next few months looking for work. She has spent her whole life knowing what she's wanted. She's spent every waking moment since she hit 18 working toward what she does, and we've had a couple conversations about my feeling of insecurity. I love that she has what she's always wanted, I just felt envious because she knew what she wanted, and how to get there. I'd spent my life hopping from one career to the next, and now it feels like the universe has told me to cash in my chips. In case I didn't fully communicate it, I felt shame in knowing I am inadequate. I cannot leverage my skills in such a way that I can earn any kind of role that I can fit into properly. I feel like no matter where i go, I will hate it, and that scares me.
I found a role with a company, but it's the graveyard shift, and it removes our weekends together. While it allows me to pay my share of bills now, I have almost zero time with her, and she with I. I am ashamed to admit that it's hit me really hard. The routine we had established was gone. Yeah, I know it's a good thing that I have a job, and it's so good that I do. I can afford bills, and repairs to my car; but I make half of what I did, and rightfully so for me quitting. Every night, before I come into work, I kiss my girlfriend goodbye, and wonder if she likes it better now that she has weekends to herself, and I am at home when she's working; but regardless, nothing I do will matter.
I'll never earn a life that'll let me build what I want, and I know it's because I chose the wrong things to pursue. I wasted my life, I wasted my time and money. Because I didn't try harder in my degree, I'll never have one.
If there is a God, I pray to them every night for death. People like me, the unproductive, I don't think the universe has a trash can big enough. We're told to work for what we want, we're told all it takes is just a bit more effort. My effort has taken the form of discipline. Over the past week, I've been getting really sick during my shifts. Either due to anxiety or something else, I've been throwing up a lot. I was given a sick day a week ago, but since then I haven't taken one. I work my shift, at my desk, and go to the bathroom if I feel nauseous.
I pray that this isn't my routine forever. I think that's when I get hit the hardest, is looking into the future and seeing myself at this same desk, during these same hours. I need more stimulation, I need another chance to be a real person. But because I spent so long stagnating in a role that swallowed my soul, I feel that I just don't have the character to make any workplace more endearing.
I'm very sorry, for all my word salad. I'm sorry that I'm just another whiner. I swear I'm trying, but the baby-steps feel toxic and poisonous, like i'm taking disingenous steps that won't lead anywhere.
