Despair

I hate my job. I’ve said that so many times in my life at different places that the phrase should be meaningless. Yet here I go again, hating my job and thinking it means something. I have been having trouble sleeping at night, and I get just plain angry over nothing, and no amount of reassurance makes the anger go away. I’m afraid I’m skirting the edge of depression, and no amount of trying to re-align my thinking helps. I fear pills, I was on them once and it was the worst experience of my life. Oh, it probably saved me, but it also hurt me a lot, tolerating the toxic situation because the doc prescribed me some feel good pills instead of saying “You need to make a change.”

And here I am, not even in the worst situation I’ve been in, and I can’t stop thinking of how unhappy I am. I’m certain it’s because I tie up my identity in my work, and when I can’t excel, when I can’t achieve or move forward, when every project that comes my way is a train wreck before I’m even assigned, I lose my mind. I’m bored out of my mind. I resent everything about what I do because I’m not allowed to take pride in my work, instead churning out garbage.

And the thing is, it isn’t so bad where I am. If I were just a slacker that needed a paycheck, I’d do fine. I tell myself all the time that at least I’m there with people I like and getting paid. But I can’t talk myself out of feeling like shit every single day. I know it doesn’t help that there are just NO JOBS right now. The few I’ve seen and applied for have failed to get back to me. One head hunter contacted me, but he was looking to hire me for my job!

I’m not sure why I am writing this. Maybe getting it “out” will help? Probably not, self pity rarely does. I just need to stick my chin up and keep going.

And kick Jim in the balls.

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