There are plenty of days when life feels so incredibly overwhelming in its abstract and concrete abilities to suffocate the soul. Life is shit and beautiful all in the same blob of time, this conveyor belt with tall walls surrounding that we’re trapped on from birth until we part.
My life has become my job, and I’m not even any good at it. Regardless of what or what wasn’t told to my new boss during her interview process, she’s very quickly seeing that I can’t keep up – at least not at the level I’d need to be at for my title and compensation. She swooped in and minimized my role either hoping I’d quit or be productive enough to be worth keeping on, at least for now, and I’m trying but it’s all a big cluster.
There are bits and pieces of my job that I’m good at… but so much of this role is all sorts of wrong. The saddest part is that many of the pieces that I’m actually good at have been removed from my responsibilities, leaving me with basically a project management role which is just about the worst possible outcome in terms of any hope I’d be able to continue to add value over the long term. Some days are better than others, but I know my time is not long in this particular position/company.
I don’t mind failing, it’s the recurring inability to break free of this cycle and do something entirely different that is chipping away at my sanity year after year. I envy people who seem to love their jobs, and I envy those who have jobs that they’re just good enough at to do and spend their life focusing on life. If I had a semi-clear image of future happy me I’d charge ahead in that direction, but no matter where I look, all I see is me failing again and again.
Boo hoo sob story… I know, but it’s just I want to feel like I have something to offer, like I can make enough money to live and safe for retirement and not be in a role where I’m trying to keep a thousand moving parts straight, laughably attempting to be a good communicator, and feeling that jabbing embarrassment of being found out for a fraud, even though it seems the only way to get ahead in the world is to ‘fake it until you make it,’ as they say.
Every day that goes by, the more I find myself sinking deeper into depression… deeper into hopelessness where there is no light at the end of the tunnel. Best case scenario I’m able to have children, I am so stressed out about my job that I can’t be a good mother, my husband divorces me because I can’t hold a job to contribute to supporting our children (and myself), I’m alone and a failure and poor having spent all of my savings and my children won’t talk to me and I end up homeless or living with a family member who doesn’t really want me there and that’s my damn life. That’s my future. That’s what I see and no wonder I’m so fucking damn depressed.
I thought maybe saving a certain amount of money would make the depression go away, but somehow the more money I save the more I feel the weight of it’s ability to disappear overnight. I can’t help but question why I should continue life when the future is so bleak, even if there will undoubtedly be sprinkles of memorizing and inspiring moments to come. I know I can’t end my life, between being to afraid of death and not having the balls to do it, but it seems like the most selfless act I could do, to prevent the harm I will cause in the future by merely being alive.
Or maybe I just find another career that I don’t suck at so much. . . . .