I had the beginning of a panic attack about half an hour ago when I set off to go to a coffee shop to keep writing. I drove past the shop and straight into the parking lot. I can see from the window that the space was packed and there were no parking anywhere near the shop. I felt that wave of dread and kept driving. I drove to an older location of the same shop and here I am. Drinking a drink that’s not quite up to my standard, a bag of too expensive coffee in my bag, sitting in a slightly uncomfortable high top, shrugging my shoulders to make myself fit.
Like most situations I put myself into these days, it really didn’t have to be this way. I woke up 10 min before my alarm this morning, did my business and went back to bed. I had a head full of ideas, self edit them to death, and dropped half my plans before I got around to brush my teeth. Three hours later I’m sitting in a coffee shop, slightly uncomfortable on the hard stool, with a gaggle of people talking loudly beside me. Thank goodness for fully charged headphones and focus music service I completely forgot to unsubscribe from.
I have been operating in this way for quite some time. Get up, dreading to do things I am loath to do, or settle on things I really wanted to do. I have flashes of pictures in my mind on how I want to be, but I can’t seem to hang on to them, much less putting in the effort to make them into reality. Around 12 years go I had a conversation with a girl boss senior manager about what I wanted to do with my career. She initiated the conversation. She was the last person I wanted to talk to about my goals. I was happy with what I was doing at the time and she came in and flipped everything around without considering any input. I dislike change that is completely out of my control and much less when somebody else takes credit for my ideas. I was merely another drone to help her execute her ambition. I gave her the generic I want to be better in my job and see how I can expand my role and responsibilities. She then proceeded to tell me I really should look into creating a visioning board because it really worked for her. I thanked her for her idea and said I would think about it. As I walked out of that meeting, I thought to myself:
She can take that vision board and shove it up her ass.
The problem with creating a vision in that point in my career is that I didn’t have too much of a sandbox to play with. I can feel the constraints on how much I can accomplish at the place I was in. I was laid off not too long after that. My direct manager felt she owed it to me to give me the news herself. I told her we were all pawns and I actually felt relieved. I loved the people I was working with, I optimized the job itself, I learned everything I can about the job, but there was no room for career growth. Most people I worked with were lifers there and I couldn’t imagine muscling those incredible women out for their jobs – maybe other than girl boss. I did that job really well and I became an expert in the field. But I couldn’t envision myself doing it anywhere else because it was a job and I wasn’t passionate about the subject matter.
The thing I was really angry about was that I never really had a vision for myself. I can argue that I still don’t. I don’t feel like I have an identity. I’ve always felt like I’m destined to do great things. But I’ve boxed myself in with expectations I think other people have of me. Parents, bosses, partner, friends, community, it goes on. I never feel like I’m doing a good enough job of the things I’m responsible for, then why would I feel entitled to want different things? Do better, then think about the things I want.
There are different flashes in my life where I was really cooking in my job. So much so that I dared to think about how I want to be at my spare time. At each of those intervals I would take up a different hobby or a cause. I would gather my supplies, test out the setup a few times, then I would let the inevitable reality that I have fallen behind on my responsibilities to drag me away from that vision. Going through the debris of my home is an anthological exploration of the person I was in the last 30 years.
This weirdly brings me back to work. For me, the jobs I’ve had in the past is a test of how well I can do a job, get recognition, and get paid. I wanted to get paid so I don’t have to work. I’ve spent the last 20 years working on careers I didn’t love but I excelled at. So much so when I think about sitting at a desk to configure another system again my stomach turns. Everything feels Sisyphean and if I keep going down that path I’m just going to do the same thing over and over again until my body breaks down and die.
Towards the end of last year I discussed with my partner what it would be like if I didn’t work. I felt duped into a job that was not what I signed up for. I was not prepared for it and I was not good at it. I tried to do the things they asked me to do. I spent extra time to learn about the tech, practice configurations I didn’t fully understand, and made myself proficient in my work. So much so I wrote an entire handbook on how to perform the work based on my experience. Then I got the “why do you suck at your job” review, and I was mentally done. I felt trapped. They paid me too much for me to straight up quit. I’m not willing to take the L and let things fail. They laid me off 3 months later and I carry that failure every day. I had a conversation with the VP who hired me after my manager gave me the news. They loved what I did for the team, in both the work I was able to perform and how I transformed the team culture, but it wasn’t meant to be. That job they gave me should not have existed at the first place. I guess I somehow manifested something and sustained it for a year and a half. But it still stings.
It makes me realize I really really hate letting other people have the power to drive my destiny.
I don’t know what I want to do yet. But I never want to feel that way again. I’m lucky to have a good amount saved up so I don’t technically have to work for a few months while I figure out next steps. Also thanks to my ever patient partner who is giving me everything he can for me to succeed. I’m at a privileged place where I can slow down the take risks. It’s not a place I expected to be at 42. But I don’t know if that’s what I expected out of myself at the first place. Let’s continue to unpack.
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