I don't want to blog about this, because that might make me realize that it's true. I mean, it is true, but I don't want it to be. You see, my wonderful Year of Writing? Following the calendar and my budgeting, it has actually already ended. And now, as was always the plan, I need to re-enter the workaday world. I am a massive jumble of complicated feelings.
There's a significant part of me that is really looking forward to working on things other than my own pet projects. About 3/4 of the way through my Year I realized I was actually looking forward to sinking my teeth into some new work, that I liked working, I just really did not fit in my last work environment and the too many years of being unhappy there were not always (though sometimes it was) about what I was doing, but was much more about how I felt while doing it (i.e. not quite fitting, a little used, starving to use my brain, and stuck). I knew other people who fit just fine there, were thriving, it worked for them, but that was never me. I'm very grateful for the things I learned how to do that I can now take elsewhere, but I hope to never work in that kind of setting again. I should have extracted myself earlier, but that stopped being an option with the recession. Now with things slowly healing on that front, I'm praying I have a chance to move into something that fits better.
So, in my stronger mental moments, I can think hopefully about finding a job that will allow me the time needed for writing, my commitments, and the people I want in my life. In my stronger moments, I even look forward to this new chapter.
But the other 85% of the day I'm a mess of anxiety, depressed procrastination, and vague dread. I loathe the process of finding work, it dregs up all kinds of feelings of insecurity and issues like feeling I don't deserve to have a job that doesn't make me miserable; misery and work go hand in hand. It's not unlike writing and how I feel really great about it until I actually sit down to do it, then I have to invoke a hundred methods to satisfy the demons so I can get a little work done.
But if my Year of Writing has taught me anything (and actually, it's taught me a lot & I hope to pen a few thoughts on that soon), it's that you have to continually choose the bigger life. And not trying something because you choose fear rather than courage suffocates creativity. Courage breeds joy.
But, man, change can really suck.
There's a significant part of me that is really looking forward to working on things other than my own pet projects. About 3/4 of the way through my Year I realized I was actually looking forward to sinking my teeth into some new work, that I liked working, I just really did not fit in my last work environment and the too many years of being unhappy there were not always (though sometimes it was) about what I was doing, but was much more about how I felt while doing it (i.e. not quite fitting, a little used, starving to use my brain, and stuck). I knew other people who fit just fine there, were thriving, it worked for them, but that was never me. I'm very grateful for the things I learned how to do that I can now take elsewhere, but I hope to never work in that kind of setting again. I should have extracted myself earlier, but that stopped being an option with the recession. Now with things slowly healing on that front, I'm praying I have a chance to move into something that fits better.
So, in my stronger mental moments, I can think hopefully about finding a job that will allow me the time needed for writing, my commitments, and the people I want in my life. In my stronger moments, I even look forward to this new chapter.
But the other 85% of the day I'm a mess of anxiety, depressed procrastination, and vague dread. I loathe the process of finding work, it dregs up all kinds of feelings of insecurity and issues like feeling I don't deserve to have a job that doesn't make me miserable; misery and work go hand in hand. It's not unlike writing and how I feel really great about it until I actually sit down to do it, then I have to invoke a hundred methods to satisfy the demons so I can get a little work done.
But if my Year of Writing has taught me anything (and actually, it's taught me a lot & I hope to pen a few thoughts on that soon), it's that you have to continually choose the bigger life. And not trying something because you choose fear rather than courage suffocates creativity. Courage breeds joy.
But, man, change can really suck.
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