For several years now, I’ve made it a point to not talk about my personal problems online. For one, not everyone needs to know what’s going on. And two, I’ve never been a fan of unsolicited advice. But, to put it bluntly, I’m far from happy right now.
I’ve had the most unfulfilling job, with the most toxic work environment, for the past two years. I’m unable to save up any money, as every last penny goes to food and bills. I’ve been searching for a new job for close to a year and have gotten absolutely nowhere. Everyone who was at this company when I first started has left and managed to find better jobs, yet I’m still stuck here. My having no car is only making my job search that much harder. To top it all off, I have no real connections to speak of that could lead to a better paying job, and I’m now getting the impression that family members don’t want to hear about my struggles. At this point, I truly feel as if the universe is trying to tell me something:
This mundane work life is not meant for me.
I was happiest when I was acting and writing, or at least able to work within the entertainment world. I was happiest when I was surrounded by those who shared my interests and mindset. The pay may have been terrible, but looking back that almost doesn’t matter. I don’t care for a six-figure salary, and fancy house, or an expensive car. All I want is to support myself just enough that I’m able to have time for what I love.
I actually began freelance writing nearly four years ago. Things seemed to be going up-hill for some time, as every week I was being offered another transcription or ghostwriting job. But my desperation for money led me to take on jobs that either didn’t pay well or were clearly out of my skill set. Ultimately, circumstances forced me to move in with my Dad in New Jersey, and my desperation to get back to New York forced me cast my writing aside.
My lack of motivation has plagued me for over a year now, as I always come home tired and angry. All I really want to do every night is sit on the couch, eat, and binge-watch Forensic Files. Hell, most of the time I never even care to take off my shoes and bra just so I can get comfortable. But it’s safe to say that I’ve reached my breaking point. I’m tired of being unhappy and unable to do what brings me joy. I’m more than aware of how much I’ll have to hustle in order to make this work, but it’s more than worth regaining control of my life.
Stubbornness, which can be either a blessing or a curse, has been consistent trait on both sides of my family. For most of us, especially my grandmother, it’s been nothing but a curse. For her entire life she’s refused help, interfered when she shouldn’t have, and even pushed loved ones away for no logical reason. At ninety-two she lives alone and is barely able to move around her apartment, yet still insists on fighting us over the idea of assisted living. I, on the other hand, am determined to turn our wretched family trait into a blessing. I will not settle for what no longer serves me. I will pursue a happier life, no matter what it takes.