I have been so stressed lately. Not just about writing either. No it’s just adulting in general. Life is hard and it only seems to be getting harder the older I get. Is this what life is?
Because this, quite frankly, SUCKs, Hard!
Everywhere I turn there is something preventing forward movement.
Career advancement goal:
Stymied by the fact that I haven’t gotten any job offers. That's if I first get any response after filling out the job applications. When I do get interviews, the following wait is interminable. I’m filled with anxiety, hope and despair in a revolving mary-go-round. No matter how hard I try, I just can’t get off. When I finally do get an email saying they went with another candidate the utter loss of hope is devastating. All the dreams, all the hope, all the possibilities are gone.
My self esteem takes a massive hit and because I don’t get any feedback I’m left to wonder what’s wrong with me? Why didn’t they pick me? Did I say something wrong? Did I do something wrong? Why am I not enough?
The request for feedback that might help alleviate some of this depression inducing thoughts goes unanswered.
It’s hard to break out of them and try going through the whole process again.
Not to mention, quite frankly, filling out job applications when all the requested information is on your carefully crafted resume sucks. Additionally creating cover letters tailored to each job making sure to include the trigger words is taxing on another level. It’s difficult to fit everything on one page trying to explain why you would be a good candidate for this job without boring the reader or coming off as desperate (when, in fact, you very much are… desperate).
Housing:
Rent is only going up and my paycheck isn’t. So that leaves me two options. Increase my paycheck and/or move. Well see the first bullet point to see how that’s going. Secondly, where do I move that is affordable? No where close-by that’s for sure. Which leaves me going further and further out to find someplace to live that is not only safe, pet friendly and in-expensive. I’ve been looking for over a year and have yet to find a place that fits that criteria. This will be my last year. It’s down to the wire. Do or die so to speak.
Sometimes I wonder where all that excitement at moving into a new place, a new job went. What happened to all my enthusiasm and optimism? Why am I so down in the pits of despair and how do I climb out?
Okay so renting seems to not be an option so what about buying a house.
Yes, Yes, I hear your pained laughter from here.
A house in an area known for explosive growth and where the cost of living has only increased. What a pipe dream.
I didn’t realize just how much until I started on my NACA (The Neighborhood Assistance Corporation of America) journey and learned just how much I’m qualified for and what houses are in my price range.
Answer nothing even a ghost would want to call home. All of the houses are torn up from the floor up. In some cases literally. Those that are nice and I can afford come with a nearly two hour commute, one way. I calculated just how much time that would be driving in my car for a year, that’s 1,040 hours in a car. How am I supposed to take care of my pets? How am I supposed to have a family? When will I take care of the house and yard? What about future job opportunities? After all there is a reason, no one’s buying this home so far from everything.
My dreams are dying on an hourly basis and no matter how much I try not to think about it. Try to keep my head above water. I keep taking in lungs full of it. Drowning slowly and steadily every hour by the hour.
Is this really what adulthood is like? Is this all I have to look forward to?
Let’s not even talk about what’s happening in Washington DC.
Dictatorship much?
Did you know that I applied for several federal jobs, NASA, CIA, LOC (Library of Congress) and FSO (Foreign Service Officer)?
I didn’t get any of them and now I can’t say I’m upset about it. Because, quite frankly I would have only worked there for two years, so no doubt I would have been part of the employees that got “laid off”. Plus I’m female and black.
As soon as they could I would’ve been out the door.
Family
With what money?
In what home?
Need I say more.
Writing Career
Being a paid writer is my dream but at the rate that’s going it doesn’t seem like much of a possibility either. Granted I’m the problem there and I want to do better and I’m trying but I think trying to make a career out of my writing is only making writing less fun and enjoyable for me. I didn’t want to admit it for a while but there it is. Being an Indie writer you aren’t just the writer, you are the editor, the promoter, the business owner, the accountant, the tech support, the artists, and the lawyer.
It’s hard.
Really hard.
Even when I tried to find a team, I quickly came to realization that I can’t afford one. So it’s back to the many, many, hats.
So what do I do? What’s the solution other than keep trying? How long can one try and get nowhere? How long can one tread water before they can’t keep going?
So in a nutshell, I’m stressed. Really, really stressed and I don’t know what the answer is or where to go.
Do you?
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