HOME | DD

Description
Been taking time to work on myself. Self care is so incredibly important. Skincare, taking care of my hair, reconnecting with myself after neglecting her for so long. I built so much of my identity around my career, about what team I’m working on and what I can provide for my company.

Losing that career (I had to resign in order to move) has been earth shattering. It has unearthed years worth of trauma and mental health struggles that I buried in order to operate sufficiently at work. I focused so hard on fulfilling my duties that I let all of that shit slip.

When I quit my job, it all came flooding back in excess. I lost my creativity, my love for myself, my income, the things that once occupied my time. Suddenly I, someone who has felt powerful even very recently, felt worthless. I started a new anti-depressant and have been taking time to adjust to that.

This society values work so heavily and demands so much of our time to focus on it that the majority of us forget who we are in the process. We forget what it is that makes us happy, what makes us sad, what makes us tick (outside of work) and also just generally the things we’ve been through.

I was never a super hard worker until my dad died and I could no longer rely on going back home if I needed to. I worked in restaurants for many years ranging from casual to fine dining, and made pretty okay money, but not enough to be financially stable.

A couple of years after his death, I was sitting on my bed in the room I rented for $800 a month, starving in that stomach-eating-itself kind of way for the third day straight with $0.60 in my bank account. I busted my ass in the restaurant, but only made enough to cover my bills. I survived off of the food I got to take home, but if I got off too late and the kitchen was closed down, I’d go hungry for the night.

Anyway, I was sitting there feeling this overwhelming sense of just being alone out in the world with no family by my side or even anywhere close to me. I thought of my dad’s home and the security it provided, the love that existed within. I yearned for it so bad, I started to cry.

And after I cried, I reminded myself that the home in my dreams no longer existed, and that crying for it, while refreshing and cathartic, did not help my situation. I realized that if I ever wanted to dig myself out of the hole I was 20 feet into, I had to grow up and start doing the hard work.

I got my first office job not long after that, and in a way, I lost myself then. Restaurant work is hard work, but it’s fun work. Surrounded by bold characters, friendly coworkers, always laughing together. Mocking stupid people, venting in the kitchen doorway, crying together on bad nights. There was a sense of camaraderie that I never fully felt in my office jobs, outside of a select few.

This is my first extended break between office jobs and I’m just recovering from the nonstop sacrificing, numbing, and grind.

I’m giving myself time to blossom again, while also applying to 50 jobs a day. I’ll be back into it soon enough, and need to just focus on enjoying the time I presently have. One day soon I’ll wish I had it back.

But alas, such is life, is it not?

Description
Been taking time to work on myself. Self care is so incredibly important. Skincare, taking care of my hair, reconnecting with myself after neglecting her for so long. I built so much of my identity around my career, about what team I’m working on and what I can provide for my company.

Losing that career (I had to resign in order to move) has been earth shattering. It has unearthed years worth of trauma and mental health struggles that I buried in order to operate sufficiently at work. I focused so hard on fulfilling my duties that I let all of that shit slip.

When I quit my job, it all came flooding back in excess. I lost my creativity, my love for myself, my income, the things that once occupied my time. Suddenly I, someone who has felt powerful even very recently, felt worthless. I started a new anti-depressant and have been taking time to adjust to that.

This society values work so heavily and demands so much of our time to focus on it that the majority of us forget who we are in the process. We forget what it is that makes us happy, what makes us sad, what makes us tick (outside of work) and also just generally the things we’ve been through.

I was never a super hard worker until my dad died and I could no longer rely on going back home if I needed to. I worked in restaurants for many years ranging from casual to fine dining, and made pretty okay money, but not enough to be financially stable.

A couple of years after his death, I was sitting on my bed in the room I rented for $800 a month, starving in that stomach-eating-itself kind of way for the third day straight with $0.60 in my bank account. I busted my ass in the restaurant, but only made enough to cover my bills. I survived off of the food I got to take home, but if I got off too late and the kitchen was closed down, I’d go hungry for the night.

Anyway, I was sitting there feeling this overwhelming sense of just being alone out in the world with no family by my side or even anywhere close to me. I thought of my dad’s home and the security it provided, the love that existed within. I yearned for it so bad, I started to cry.

And after I cried, I reminded myself that the home in my dreams no longer existed, and that crying for it, while refreshing and cathartic, did not help my situation. I realized that if I ever wanted to dig myself out of the hole I was 20 feet into, I had to grow up and start doing the hard work.

I got my first office job not long after that, and in a way, I lost myself then. Restaurant work is hard work, but it’s fun work. Surrounded by bold characters, friendly coworkers, always laughing together. Mocking stupid people, venting in the kitchen doorway, crying together on bad nights. There was a sense of camaraderie that I never fully felt in my office jobs, outside of a select few.

This is my first extended break between office jobs and I’m just recovering from the nonstop sacrificing, numbing, and grind.

I’m giving myself time to blossom again, while also applying to 50 jobs a day. I’ll be back into it soon enough, and need to just focus on enjoying the time I presently have. One day soon I’ll wish I had it back.

But alas, such is life, is it not?