Home

After 4 days of blissful freedom, I have to return to work tomorrow. My feelings on that subject are certainly mixed, but it would not be a stretch to say they approach something resembling “dread”. I do not want to go back. I do not think I have the strength. I do not think I can take it. Not anymore.

I do not want to go back. I do not think I have the strength. I do not think I can take it. Not anymore. When I was listening to one of my favourite Podcasts today I heard one of the men being interviewed, who works at a great gaming company, talk about the way he puts the games together and the way the stories are developed. I located him on Twitter and, after be began following me, I sent him a private message offering myself as a freelance writer – which I knew from the Podcast he uses. I said that I knew it was a specialised niche, but I was a strong writer and would be willing to start small and learn.

When I was listening to one of my favourite Podcasts today I heard one of the men being interviewed, who works at a great gaming company, talk about the way he puts the games together and the way the stories are developed. I located him on Twitter and, after be began following me, I sent him a private message offering myself as a freelance writer – which I knew from the Podcast he uses. I said that I knew it was a specialised niche, but I was a strong writer and would be willing to start small and learn. Somehow recently I’ve lost all my fear of such things. Of taking plunges or of trying to make things happen. I fear much more being

Somehow recently I’ve lost all my fear of such things. Of taking plunges or of trying to make things happen. I fear much more being imprisoned a soulless office. Of being stuck, hour after hour, day after day, to a machine. As a self-development exercise on my time off, I tried to write down things about myself – things that I love to do, my hobbies and trying to identify when I was happiest.

As a self-development exercise on my time off, I tried to write down things about myself – things that I love to do, my hobbies and trying to identify when I was happiest.

The same themes kept appearing:

Stories.
Creativity.
Writing.
Theatre.
Art.
Being part of a group.
Success and recognition.

And what of the opposite, what do I hate?

Oppression.
Repetition.
Dullness or being bored.
Authority.
Repression.

When I’ve been trying to set intentions over the past couple of weeks, I’ve asked repeatedly for my path to become clear. Everything seems hidden and veiled from my eyes, even from myself. I cannot see where I am to go, nor what I am to do. Even what I want seems viewed only through mist and mud, sometimes I cannot even see it clearly.

I fear that a part of me is just lazy. In fact I would rather not work and just be myself at home with things to amuse me. Another part screams that such thing is madness, that I need the challenges and the thrill. Again, I do not know which or what is right, even inside my own mind. And what’s worse, I do not know how to figure it out.

I know that I love to create and I love to write, that much is certain, at least. But with this agency role, it tires me out too much to even write down my own thoughts. Sometimes I think it tires me out too much to even be honest with myself, which perhaps is the idea.

What a genius way to run an operation, if so.

My own loneliness is perhaps part of the problem. I have nobody to really turn to with my own confused feelings, and I’m sure my friends are sick to death of hearing about me and my problems. In truth, they probably have every right to be.

The problem is the depression too, I can feel it sometimes, lurking on the edge of my consciousness. Waiting for when I feel weak or tired or upset, then it can dig its claws in and consume me. I’m not sure what I’ve had, in truth, because I barely spoke to anyone about it. But when it came, when it comes, it’s like a yawning pit of darkness opening up inside me, pulling me in. Before sleep, in the late afternoon, first thing in the morning, there was no telling when or how it could strike.

When it comes to my current job I’m tired. I’m tired of the impossible deadlines, the inane tasks. I’ve realised that I need to feel connected in some way to what I’m doing. You know, that reason to get up in the morning and keep doing it. To just make money and make it from one day to the next is not enough for me. That’s not enough to call life.

I want so much more than that. Just like I want so much more than a man who is just handsome or clever or wants to take care of me.

Is that embracing life or being selfish?

I just don’t know anymore.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s