New Job

After a pretty horrible year being unemployed and broke, I rejoined my previous firm, but in a new role. To be honest, I was not particularly excited about the role because it seems fake, fraudulent somehow. I work with a company that doesn't create anything. It only aggregates and sorts stuff. So, the work NEVER excited me. But the people were/are nice and went above and beyond in accommodating my shitty work ethic when I got depressed because I was good my first year.

That's the background. Sort of. This company had just begun in my city, and I was one of the first employees. And I was doing well. I felt like I belonged. And a year down the line, things started changing, as is wont to happen...practically everywhere. New people came in. People who were friends of my boss. They'd quickly formed a clique I felt excluded from. It was like being back at high school. It's like that shit will never leave you alone. Overall nice people, though....so the problem was/is always with me. The minute I detected a threat, my motivation fell. I began to disengage. And other shit happened in my personal life that shoved me down a spiral of depression. It got so bad that I didn't feel like getting out of bed. All this happened to me while a new and exciting project was picking up pace at work. They wanted me to one of the core team members, but I just couldn't bring myself to show up and participate regularly. Also, decisions were getting made in the clique, and the rest of us heard about them only later. This shit was/is insidious, and I will always react badly to this, I suppose. I have never learnt how to deal with this in a sensible, adult way. But I need to, because office politics will exist...everywhere. Long story short, I eventually lost that job.

One year later, though, I ended up back at the same company...despite many misgivings. I felt like I owed them a debt, for their consideration and support when I was ill. Also, I suppose I had a point to prove...mostly to myself, that I am not as bad at work as I've come to believe. Also, I needed to pick up new skills, and this role, although "underhanded," offered that possibility. And two months into the new job, here I am...wondering if I've made a gigantic mistake coming back. It's the same people, and the same cliques, and for me, the same alienation. Never feel like I belong here now. Cannot talk to the people. And worse, I feel too old mentally for my new role. I feel like I don't even understand the job. My teammates are all young...in their early to mid-20s. I'm in my early 30s, but I've always felt and acted like a goddamn grandma...a LUDDITE grandma. And I now work with SEO, which I thought was mostly about writing articles. Turns out that's only a small part of it. Content generation has changed face so drastically. You've got to keep churning out content, that isn't necessarily super valuable all the time, but LOOKS good. I've never been able to do "looks good" well. And after 10 years of editing, suddenly having to write is daunting. My writing sounds soooooo clunky, and my voice is "old" and "preachy." The team puts out such "young" "hip" content, tons of mistakes be damned. I HATE this. I HATE my job. This is NOT what I want to do with my life. But I'm stuck, once again. Create shit. Write shit. Then repurpose this shit to present it in different ways. All of this is done to earn links. It's not about the content itself. It's not really about creating anything really. It's just about earning links to your site, blog or whatever. So, most days, even 2 months later, I feel like I don't understand my job. Because, while creating this shit content is one part, I have to spend time trying to find new avenues on the net where I can post these links. Self-promotion, really. Something I've never been good at. Something the inner-me scoffs at. I mean, shouldn't your work just speak for you? Why do we even need to promote ourselves? I clearly don't understand how the world works, and a huge part of me doesn't want to. Therein lies the problem.

Anyway, for now, I'm stuck here. With this job. I have to learn to enjoy it. Do it well. So, I can tell myself I don't completely suck, and have a chance of survival in this world. I must put in effort after work to learn this thing so I can be on top of the job, and compete with my young, hip coworkers. Will I ever get there? I have to spend time drawing maps and plans first, to understand the different aspects of my job, and do each a little everyday. I have to make this work. I cannot lose this job.

Gratitude

So I began this blog in my mid-twenties, mostly to complain about how I'm not getting laid. That changed for a while, but I'm back to not getting laid. And now I know whining about it isn't really going to get me anywhere (not that actually getting laid did either!) I'll periodically keep posting about my attempts to get laid as well. But meanwhile, I want to start "Gratitude" posts. Just lists of things I'm grateful for, so I remember how much better things are for me...mostly to curb that annoying habit I have of whining too much.

So here goes:

1. I'm really grateful my dad's who he is. I've whined a lot about how he's just another average UNWOKE Indian guy who's sooo horribly entrenched in the patriarchy, but considering where and how he grew up, he's by far a lot more WOKE than I give him credit for. The guy tries. Sure, it can't be easy for him to get bullied by both of us feminazis in the house, and he is an extreme introvert like me, who's actually not had the best of lives, despite everything. I'm really grateful that I can still argue with him...and I KNOW he tortures himself over things silently, just like I do (Why do we inherit these traits only?). I am really grateful that he understands or at least tries to understand me and mom, and he's at heart just a big pile of mush who has trouble expressing himself. I just want him to be happy and healthy and find some sort of fulfillment in life. I hope he stops worrying that I'm not married or whatever. And I just hope we can have real conversations without tearing each other to shreds. But mostly, THANK YOU, for such a great dad!

2. Another thing I've been whining off late, mostly to blame circumstances instead of owning up to my horrible faults, is how I should've studied engineering. I'm really grateful I studied what I did, and I don't EVER want to forget how much fun I had in college and Uni. Those were the few years in my life when I actually felt like I belonged somewhere. For a few years, I had a home, and I don't want to forget that. I made a mess of things later, but for a few years, I was on the precipice of something truly awesome, and I very much needed that after those awful awful US years. And for a long time, I also worked in the field I wanted to. Only after I started running after money and, even worse, started really messing up at work, did things get sidetracked so horribly. It was me. I wholly messed things up for myself. No one else. And still, I've been fortunate enough to not completely be thrown off things. I can still get back into the groove, and I did land a great freelance gig that I enjoy very much. I am grateful for all of this, because if after 10 years of fucked up drudgery, if you don't realize that you've got to enjoy what you do for 8 hours a day, you (me) are a total ass. I'm grateful I still can. I hope I work hard at it and get better and can one day again feel proud of my work.

3. I'm grateful for this fuck-buddy thing that I did to myself. I fell in love with the asshole, despite carefully selecting the guy so I WONT fall in love with him. So, yes...once again, it has been proven. Sex fucks up EVERYTHING. It ended, and I was shattered. It wasn't too great while it lasted either, but it shattered me wayyy worse than I expected it to. Comes of living a very sheltered life, I suppose. Spiralled into depression, messed up my health, still trying to process the very painful life lessons and bitterness. I've changed as a person because of this...not a good change. But I guess this brought home to me how thin-skinned I am, and that's not good. At all. I need to put myself out there for more rejection, so I one day can take it in my stride. Gotta learn detachment. Gotta learn never to put someone else above my own self-worth. Lessons I should've learnt in my early 20s, but I guess I'm glad it happened now. Also, I'm glad it was him and not some potentially much worse guy. I just want to come out of it soon, and relatively thick-skinned now, with enough emotional armor in place for the next time around. But I'm glad it happened.

Big things I'm grateful for. Life lessons, mostly, but I hope I can come back to read these and learn to just be happy about things and whine a little less.

I haven't felt alive in ages. And I completely hate the person I have become in the last decade. I hate her. She only rains on everything...and she's whiny and petty and OH SO BORING!

Can you imagine how EXHAUSTING it is to be boring ALL THE fucking time? Ugh.

I probably ought to attribute this deadness to not getting laid. The last time I actually enjoyed sex was over 2 years ago. And I have completely lost the ability to talk to people...fuck talking. I can't even make EYE contact and mutter something remotely coherent so people don't look at me like I lost all essence of my humanity. It's like I'm black and white in a riot of instafiltered, primary colored world. I'm invisible. No...unfortunately, not completely invisible. Just utterly drained of any color and every smidgen of personality.

I seriously doubt one random fuck with some fuckwit I pick up on Tinder is going to set this right. Especially when I will not come.

Today, I’m feeling quite low. The overwhelming thought is the crippling fear about the job situation. I slept at around 3:30-4 yesterday night and woke up only at 12:30 in the afternoon. But I could not get myself to get off the bed until 3. I was just wallowing in bed, desperately looking for suitable jobs on LinkedIn and Naukri. There is nothing. Nothing that’ll at least pay me what I used to make. I am so scared. I could freelance, but I don’t trust myself. I don’t trust myself with a job either.

Ideally, I would like to just work from home for a while. Maybe there are ways to make a steady income just from working from home. But that requires immense discipline. Which I don’t have. Never had, really. The main reason for the mess I am in today, at the age of 31. This is the reason why I cannot hold a job, I’ve steadily ruined my reputation as a reliable editor or employee.

I have to build my life back up from scratch. I don’t know how the next two months will play out. I am scared, but worse, this time…there is overwhelming apathy and just the need to sleep it off so I don’t have to think about anything. The more I think, the more I panic. I feel helpless against my will to just get up and get some work done. There is sooooooooo much work to be done. I can’t even get myself organized. And if I don’t, I will not survive. I will have to go back home and become an invalid of sorts. I have had this feeling that I’ll either die a lonely, miserable death or end up in a mental asylum. Now, it seems like I’m actively working towards it. Shouldn’t I be running the other way? It is such a daunting task, and I’m so intimidated. I am so convinced that I cannot do it. I really ought to give it a shot before giving up, no?

You know, I really do just want to be happy and normal and have the energy to do the things I need to do. I want to be engaged in a job I love. I want to work, but I’m so scared of competition and falling short that I won’t even attempt it. I have been running for ages…and here I am. I’ve lost a perfectly wonderful job at a really nice company that was very supportive through all my struggles. I forced them to fire me. I cannot continue like this. I am a financial, emotional, physical wreck. How am I going to survive? My parents are in no stage to help me right now. In fact, I should be the one taking more responsibility and supporting them. I have no plan. I feel like I’m drowning and a big part of me just wants to surrender and drown faster.

Off late, especially the past few months, I blank out…I keep staring at the screen, not being able to focus. My brain feels heavy and hazy. My concentration has completely gone for a toss. However, this is not consistent. I have good days when I’m super-efficient and get a lot done. I manage to check off a lot of tasks on my to-do list. But the “dead days” as I call them, are just one long stupor. My eyes glaze over. I can’t take in anything that is being said. I am not in the moment. I don’t know what to do. Actually, I know what to do. I just am not able to or somehow not willing to bring myself to do it. I am not stupid. I am smart. I know. It’s just going downhill, very fast and it’s all very scary. But a little part of me wants to survive and even thrive. I want to one day look in the mirror and be proud of myself. I so badly do want to get there. 

My Dad

I went to a therapist today, for the first time. I mockingly like to say to myself that I'm afraid I'm going to turn into one of those people who begins their sentences with "My therapist says..." I guess I'd been afraid I'd become dependent on this new form of dependency. I always thought of therapy as something for rich people. You pay someone to listen to your bullshit because no one else in your life likes you enough to listen to you sort through your everyday, mundane crap. You pay, so they have to listen.

I thought my depression really just began from the time I moved to Pune, but my therapist said it probably began in my horrifying high school years in the US. Now, a part of me wants to tell my parents this, but I hesitate. I'd been revelling in hurting other people the past couple of years. Especially my parents. I blamed them for being the root of all my problems. And that part still wants to tell them, albeit indirectly, that look...your shitty decision at a crucial point in my life set the baseline for my personality. It would be easy, convenient to continue blaming them....HIM, really. My dad. But I know he's depressed too. I really just ought to start being kinder. He needs help. Once I sort through my issues, I should get him to go to a therapist too, maybe. But that's for later. I am still tempted to call up my parents and tell them about my session with the therapist. I will, but I need to figure out just how and how much to tell them.

I have a lot of resentment. Against my parents, against the boy I was involved with for two years, against guys in general (a lot of it justified, I still think), and the WORLD, of course. And all the pretty women out there, for just being prettier and better than me.

But today, if anything, I think I'll talk about my resentment against my parents. The past cannot be fixed, but I've always been one of those people who wants payback...even if it's impossible. I want it in some form. The more impossible the situation, the more I want and demand it. I know I did this to Bee, and I am doing it to J, and I am doing it to my parents too now. Maybe, I'd been doing it for ages. I don't know.

Coming back to my parents, I expect unconditional love from them. I demand it. Because they are the only ones who will love me. They are contractually bound to. No one else will. No one else probably does. I don't know. I hope I have earned the love of at least a couple of friends. I know there are people who care about me. But no one loves you like your parents do. Despite all your flaws and your horrible character. And I resent that my parents, especially my dad was too muddled in his own thinking and planning to take my future into account. It was mostly circumstances, but I still blame him. Yes, he was in a shitty phase in his career and he was stuck and he desperately wanted to move out and prove something to himself and the world. I remember him saying "If we just stay here, we'll rot." I can only imagine what he'd been going through then and since then. I have thought about it a lot, but not out of compassion.

We are very alike, my dad and I. The same kind of introversion and stubbornness, the same need to cut off from the world, the same ostrich-burying-its-head-in-the-sand syndrome. The same social awkwardness, the same lack of guile and even tact. The vulnerability to hurt because we're too stupid to hide things that really ought to be hidden. The same body language that is a little too easily read. This is why I think I understand him better, even though we hardly talk about anything real. We only stick to politics, finances, social issues...safe topics. He is my father, for Christ's sake. I should be able to talk about real shit with him. My mom has been playing the go-between since my teenage, since I began to register as a person in my dad's head. Before that, I was largely still a child in his head. But I long stopped being just a child.

I resent the fact that he didn't know me. He didn't foresee how moving to the US would affect an introverted, body-image-issue ridden adolescent like me. In the 9th grade! What do most Indian parents do? They put everything on hold when the kid comes to about 8-9th and focus on their education and plan for what and where they're going to study. My dad chose to disrupt my life in such a huge way at that crucial moment. Thankfully, I was fairly good academically. But socially, mentally, I was a mess or there was plenty of potential for things to go wrong. And they did. A fish from a pond dropped suddenly into the ocean. And 18 years later, I now have to learn to fix that damage, on my own.