(no subject)
It's amazing to me how, even when we tell ourselves that we don't want something, we shout to the heavens above our abhorrence of certain things, we tell ourselves and everyone else around us that something doesn't bother us, doesn't matter, is inconsequential and pointless.
But let someone else get it and all of a sudden, you feel like more of a failure than the very first moment you lost it in the first place.
I loved my job. MY job. Not that joke of a job I had afterwards or before what I have now. MY JOB. And I was damn good at it too. I busted my ass for a place that shared not a care in the world for me. But the people that worked for me cared. So it made me want to do it. I did something worthwhile, even if it was tiny to other people, it was something to me. And then I had to switch to something else. Either that, or switch to another location all together. Well, I didn't want to do that. I'd carved a place where I was, I had friends, people that respected me and what I did. I had a niche. I didn't want to give that up and go somewhere foreign and strange.
Then all the support I had miraculously disappeared the moment I went to the back. I can honestly tell you that I didn't know what I was doing half of the time. And going from a job I could've done with my eyes closed and hands tied behind my back, I felt like an idiot. Stupid. Worthless and inexperienced. But I tried to stick it out, the more they piled onto me, the harder I wanted to shove it off and prove to them that I could.
But I couldn't.
Then someone puts their hands on me and I react, not physically, but verbally. Saying the simplest of curse words gets me demoted. All because the mother fucker that sexually harassed me the year before told them I did a lot worse than I actually did. They took his word over mine, so I lost it all. I'd failed. I basically sucked.
Yeah, so he got what was coming to him. He got fired. But I still got demoted. I busted my ass for that place for 2 1/2 years while he did nothing. I gave everything I had without losing who I was, and they took it all away from me so that they could have an example of what wouldn't be acceptable all of a sudden. Aside from Jerrad, I lost everything that made me feel important. I no longer had the respect of others. I had their pity. Something I hate with a passion. I got the sorrowful looks and sidelong glances that come along with the whole 'it's so sad' mentality. It was like I had been diagnosed with cancer or AIDS or something else that would kill me later on. I grew to hate that place and all the people in it. They'd fucked me over, why wouldn't I hate them?
And all along, all I wanted them to do was come up to me and say, 'hey, we fucked up. you were right, we're sorry we took the word of a sexual deviant and imp of satan over yours.'
And that'll be happening in the next universe I inhabit right?
You're right. Probably not.
Why do we let something like a building and the people that fill it make us feel like failures? Maybe because they're not making us feel that way, but we actually are that way. I mean, I've been told it enough in my years, why should it seem surprising to finally feel it?
And then someone is asked to come back, when for months they've shouted to the heavens how much they hated that place, the job, the people and the fact that any of them were in existence. Someone who had done so much worse then we, they almost beg for a return engagement. Yes, that person was good at their job. Fantastic even. But by that being true, it can only mean one thing right? We weren't. I wasn't. If I was, they'd admit they maybe weren't wholly correct in what they did. No. I get to hate that place even more. And most of the people in it. Certainly the people that run it.
I know it's a great thing that they want him back, and with more money. It means he obviously is good at that job. But it just re enforces every feeling and fear of failing I've ever had.
No, life's not fair. It sucks and it's confusing and almost pointless at times.
So, I quit.
I may be a failure, but I don't have to stay in a place that continues to remind me of it.
But let someone else get it and all of a sudden, you feel like more of a failure than the very first moment you lost it in the first place.
I loved my job. MY job. Not that joke of a job I had afterwards or before what I have now. MY JOB. And I was damn good at it too. I busted my ass for a place that shared not a care in the world for me. But the people that worked for me cared. So it made me want to do it. I did something worthwhile, even if it was tiny to other people, it was something to me. And then I had to switch to something else. Either that, or switch to another location all together. Well, I didn't want to do that. I'd carved a place where I was, I had friends, people that respected me and what I did. I had a niche. I didn't want to give that up and go somewhere foreign and strange.
Then all the support I had miraculously disappeared the moment I went to the back. I can honestly tell you that I didn't know what I was doing half of the time. And going from a job I could've done with my eyes closed and hands tied behind my back, I felt like an idiot. Stupid. Worthless and inexperienced. But I tried to stick it out, the more they piled onto me, the harder I wanted to shove it off and prove to them that I could.
But I couldn't.
Then someone puts their hands on me and I react, not physically, but verbally. Saying the simplest of curse words gets me demoted. All because the mother fucker that sexually harassed me the year before told them I did a lot worse than I actually did. They took his word over mine, so I lost it all. I'd failed. I basically sucked.
Yeah, so he got what was coming to him. He got fired. But I still got demoted. I busted my ass for that place for 2 1/2 years while he did nothing. I gave everything I had without losing who I was, and they took it all away from me so that they could have an example of what wouldn't be acceptable all of a sudden. Aside from Jerrad, I lost everything that made me feel important. I no longer had the respect of others. I had their pity. Something I hate with a passion. I got the sorrowful looks and sidelong glances that come along with the whole 'it's so sad' mentality. It was like I had been diagnosed with cancer or AIDS or something else that would kill me later on. I grew to hate that place and all the people in it. They'd fucked me over, why wouldn't I hate them?
And all along, all I wanted them to do was come up to me and say, 'hey, we fucked up. you were right, we're sorry we took the word of a sexual deviant and imp of satan over yours.'
And that'll be happening in the next universe I inhabit right?
You're right. Probably not.
Why do we let something like a building and the people that fill it make us feel like failures? Maybe because they're not making us feel that way, but we actually are that way. I mean, I've been told it enough in my years, why should it seem surprising to finally feel it?
And then someone is asked to come back, when for months they've shouted to the heavens how much they hated that place, the job, the people and the fact that any of them were in existence. Someone who had done so much worse then we, they almost beg for a return engagement. Yes, that person was good at their job. Fantastic even. But by that being true, it can only mean one thing right? We weren't. I wasn't. If I was, they'd admit they maybe weren't wholly correct in what they did. No. I get to hate that place even more. And most of the people in it. Certainly the people that run it.
I know it's a great thing that they want him back, and with more money. It means he obviously is good at that job. But it just re enforces every feeling and fear of failing I've ever had.
No, life's not fair. It sucks and it's confusing and almost pointless at times.
So, I quit.
I may be a failure, but I don't have to stay in a place that continues to remind me of it.