Seldom do I feel as unhappy and hopeless about my life/work as I do this morning. Today is my first day back at work after a 2 week holiday hiatus/vacation. I dreaded returning to work so much that I could not fully enjoy the second half of my vacation. I had been feeling down since early last week. It’s days like today which make me feel as if something has got to change or I’m going to break.
At first I thought that what I had been dreading was having to do a job I don’t feel connected to or excited about. But today I think what I’m really missing is a sense of being connected to the PEOPLE I work with. I felt so incredibly connected to the people at my last job that they were like family. My current coworkers don’t come close, and I doubt that any job where I’d work remotely would be different.
But of course I have to ask… is it just my job that has got me down? Over the last couple days of vacation I was thinking back on how I was feeling like I was floating on air just 1 year ago. We had just moved to a new state and into a new/rented house and we had started looking ahead at the prospects of buying a new house. Well… fast forward to today (one year later) and here we are, living in our brand, spanking new house for the last 7 months. But I’m sad to discover that I have not shaken some of my worst old habits and I no longer feel like I’m riding that cloud. And I’m not so sure that a different job would have been enough to keep me riding it either.
I have always said -and I still believe- that I am my own worst enemy. I’m in a new state and in a new house and in a new job and I still continue to sabotage myself in the same ways I did back in Florida. I make plans for something or other but I don’t follow thru, I start projects that I don’t finish, I make promises to myself and to my kids that I don’t keep. Call it ADHD or a brain rewired by clinical depression and anti-depressants.. it makes no difference to me. Whatever the label I give it, it continues to fuel a defeatist undercurrent in my personality and in my life. Moving several states away may have helped for a short time, but I’m not even mildly surprised that running away from my gremlins didn’t work.
I’m not sure what it’s going to take to silence my ‘demon’ or if I ever will be able to. I keep wondering whether I will ever get the upper hand on it before my life comes to an end. I know it’s a grim thought, but I’m 46 years old now and that’s a big effing number. I still can’t believe I’m that many years old and don’t know where the time went. Thankfully, the passage of time has calmed my fears of the inevitable. I’m no longer as afraid of death and dying as I was 20 years ago. Instead, what I worry about is the suitcase full of regret and the weight it will add to my deathbed. If my own fat ass doesn’t crush the bed frame, my regrets will certainly crush me.
I have a very short two-item list of things that would put a smile on my face as I go gentle into that good night; Firstly, to know that my kids have grown to be good people. And secondly, to know that I have finally succeeded in telling that self-sabotaging inner-voice of mine to fuck off and go suck a bag of dicks.
Let’s see if 2019 will bring more constructive blog posts…. unlike 2018, which brought zero.