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prettygoodyearHappiness…
I was reading old diaries of mine. I keep one since the age of 12. I think it was near the end of 2003 when my thoughts and feelings got darker and darker. There were moments of joy, but I found it hard to fit into this world. Things got worse when I moved out of the house into my apartment at the end of 2003. I think that every entry was about me being confused about life, work etc… Of course I also tend to write down my thoughts more when it involves a stressful situation, and keeping an online journal also often prevented me from writing in my physical journal. But still. For over 10 years now I seem to struggle with the same things: a feeling of not belonging here, a need for freedom.
A pattern that always returned were the holidays: I always wrote about how I could breathe again, felt alive again, how I dreaded going back to work. I always seemed happiest when there was no outside pressure. When I could do my own things. Nature also always took a great part in it, especially when I moved to my new home closer to the lake. I remember last summer when it was hot outside and I just went to the lake with a beach towel, a book, something to eat and drink and nothing else and how alive and at peace I felt. I find it hard to put to words how it feels, but it’s good. Ireland also always makes me feel really alive and happy. I experienced the ultimate freedom there when I travelled the country for 3 months back in 2002. I still had my issues, but the freedom people, the freedom!
Of course my family is a cause for happiness as well. Just last week, when my youngest niece had a sleepover at my parents’, the little things (going for a train ride, going to the second hand store, having dinner etc…) also give me great joy and make me feel happy and alive.
Little things, such as dandelions in the green grass, or spring in itself, give me happy moments as well.
My job, however, doesn’t. Sure, there are moments I enjoy myself, but apparently for the past 10 years or so (basically since I started to work for a living) work is something that steals my energy, gets me away from my other self. It’s cause for a lot of stress and basically, I do something that isn’t right. It’s actually amazing I have this job for over 10 years, but then again, it’s what I am used to, it’s the only real, longterm job I’ve ever had. I somehow seem to think there isn’t anything else for me to do that will give me a steady income and will also make me love what I do. At least I know what I have, even though it isn’t perfect. But how much longer do I need to continue with this? Will I allow the rest of my life to be like this: feel worthless, uninspired and unhappy 90% of the time? I feel it puts a shadow over my life, my existence. It makes me insecure, or more insecure than before. This is not what life is supposed to be like, this is not how I want my life to be for the next 30+ years. I want to feel alive again. I just wish I knew where to begin. I still have no real clue about what it is I want to do with the rest of my life and I also think a big part of me is so full of the assumption that I am not really good at anything really that, again, staying in this job feels like the safest option, even though it isn’t.
I know the only right decision would be to quit this job and do something I love. I hope to be able to do just one day soon. (I still wish the idea of a basic income for all, of which you could live off without a job would become reality for all one day soon. It would make life so much easier for so many people and in the end would benefit so many things. For more info: http://www.globalincome.org/English/Global-Basic-Income.html)
Let me end this long post with a song, one of my favourite songs of all times:
This entry was originally posted at http://prettygoodyear.dreamwidth.org/266251.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
I was reading old diaries of mine. I keep one since the age of 12. I think it was near the end of 2003 when my thoughts and feelings got darker and darker. There were moments of joy, but I found it hard to fit into this world. Things got worse when I moved out of the house into my apartment at the end of 2003. I think that every entry was about me being confused about life, work etc… Of course I also tend to write down my thoughts more when it involves a stressful situation, and keeping an online journal also often prevented me from writing in my physical journal. But still. For over 10 years now I seem to struggle with the same things: a feeling of not belonging here, a need for freedom.
A pattern that always returned were the holidays: I always wrote about how I could breathe again, felt alive again, how I dreaded going back to work. I always seemed happiest when there was no outside pressure. When I could do my own things. Nature also always took a great part in it, especially when I moved to my new home closer to the lake. I remember last summer when it was hot outside and I just went to the lake with a beach towel, a book, something to eat and drink and nothing else and how alive and at peace I felt. I find it hard to put to words how it feels, but it’s good. Ireland also always makes me feel really alive and happy. I experienced the ultimate freedom there when I travelled the country for 3 months back in 2002. I still had my issues, but the freedom people, the freedom!
Of course my family is a cause for happiness as well. Just last week, when my youngest niece had a sleepover at my parents’, the little things (going for a train ride, going to the second hand store, having dinner etc…) also give me great joy and make me feel happy and alive.
Little things, such as dandelions in the green grass, or spring in itself, give me happy moments as well.
My job, however, doesn’t. Sure, there are moments I enjoy myself, but apparently for the past 10 years or so (basically since I started to work for a living) work is something that steals my energy, gets me away from my other self. It’s cause for a lot of stress and basically, I do something that isn’t right. It’s actually amazing I have this job for over 10 years, but then again, it’s what I am used to, it’s the only real, longterm job I’ve ever had. I somehow seem to think there isn’t anything else for me to do that will give me a steady income and will also make me love what I do. At least I know what I have, even though it isn’t perfect. But how much longer do I need to continue with this? Will I allow the rest of my life to be like this: feel worthless, uninspired and unhappy 90% of the time? I feel it puts a shadow over my life, my existence. It makes me insecure, or more insecure than before. This is not what life is supposed to be like, this is not how I want my life to be for the next 30+ years. I want to feel alive again. I just wish I knew where to begin. I still have no real clue about what it is I want to do with the rest of my life and I also think a big part of me is so full of the assumption that I am not really good at anything really that, again, staying in this job feels like the safest option, even though it isn’t.
I know the only right decision would be to quit this job and do something I love. I hope to be able to do just one day soon. (I still wish the idea of a basic income for all, of which you could live off without a job would become reality for all one day soon. It would make life so much easier for so many people and in the end would benefit so many things. For more info: http://www.globalincome.org/English/Global-Basic-Income.html)
Let me end this long post with a song, one of my favourite songs of all times:
This entry was originally posted at http://prettygoodyear.dreamwidth.org/266251.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
