I've been through some rough patches and I'm not afraid to admit when it is my fault. I'm human and I make mistakes. This year seems to be mistake after mistake. Error after error. I'm not sure who I'm becoming now that I'm home but I know that I don't like whatever path I'm on.
In my last post I mentioned that I was going back to school, which is the path I want to be on. A lot of you know that I've been wrestling with depression and it's left me at a loss for identity. It seems like the old adage that things must get worse before they get better is ringing true. I was behind on somethings, because well... working minimum wage does really allow one to live and make payments on things now does it? (No, it does not.) So they took my car back. It's my fault of course, I got behind. I was a day late (quite literally) from being caught up but now they've decided to close the entire amount. So no car. It isn't the end of the world.
Complaining about my car being gone isn't the reason for this post though. This post belongs to my parents and my inability to trust them to help me. I'm not sure really how to touch on this. At some point in my 26 years I have learned that I can't count on my parents to be there for me when I actually need it. I can't seem to bring myself to tell them this. That all the years of their arguing, berating and verbal put downs has left an indelible mark on my mind. I've watched my parents fail time and again. My own life is built on the rubble of their failures and inadequacies. I've fought and struggled to get out from under it. I did briefly when I moved to Austin and I excelled tremendously.
Foolishly I moved back home and as a result I feel like the last two years were just one big tease. I'm terrified that I'll never get back to feeling like I did for those two years.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
Decisions, Decisions, Decisions...
This seems to be a year full of decisions for me. I imagine that it comes with being in my mid twenties and having only a vague idea of what I want to do with myself. I've always struggled a bit with this whole adult thing. The novelty of it wore off at some point earlier this year and it's left me puttering about my daily life torn between responsibilities and the inner child inside. I also made the decision to move back to North Carolina after spending the better part of the last two years in Austin, Texas. I feel like it is a little to early to call it one way or the other, but the early results aren't promising.
In the five months I've been home I've held 5 different jobs. This is really out of my normal way of doing things. Three of them have been various types of machine shops. Tracking Point has been romanticized in my head a bit and I think that I liked the people more than the job. The shops I've worked at while home have all been miserable, underfunded and under appreciated messes. No one seems to actually read my resume so I get placed on the mill, which I am borderline awful at. One of the jobs lasted all of a day. They told me it was an entry level advertising position. When I got there it turned into a sales job immediately. I finished out the first day and promptly went to work at my cousin's movie theater, or job number 5.
This latest shop isn't the worst by any means but I just can't stand the work. I spent the better part of Thursday and Friday wrecking my nerves over nothing. I'm just not invested enough in the work to put forth my best effort. I spent the weekend thinking it over. For some reason I felt like this was something I had to do. That it was my only choice. I hated it. I spent the weekend drinking, watching football and writing with the idea that machining was my future running around in my brain. Monday comes around and it's another awful day. I'm called cocky. I'm told that I'm all talk. That I've shown the company that hired me absolutely nothing. It got under my skin a bit. I knuckled down and showed them I knew what I was doing but it left a bitter taste in my mouth. On the way home it finally hit me, go back to school.
So that is what I did. I applied to GTCC last night and filled out all my FAFSA information. I don't get a Pell Grant for this semester but by the time Fall 2014 rolls around I should be set. I'd been toying with the idea for a while anyway, this job was the impetus I needed to finally shift into that gear. I've proven all I need to myself when it comes to machining. I have no real desire to do it anymore. It's time to move on to new pastures. I'm a writer. Some of the best times of my life have been writing stuff for Comics Bulletin or covering events for them. I'm not going to school for journalism however, at least not at the moment. I'm looking more into Advertising. I feel like the mixed media approach that it offers would allow me to flex what little creative muscle I have. I'm excited. It made work bearable today. Knowing that this isn't the end all be all of my career life allowed me to relax and get over myself a bit.
To sum it up I guess... 26 years old. Going to college. Oh boy.
In the five months I've been home I've held 5 different jobs. This is really out of my normal way of doing things. Three of them have been various types of machine shops. Tracking Point has been romanticized in my head a bit and I think that I liked the people more than the job. The shops I've worked at while home have all been miserable, underfunded and under appreciated messes. No one seems to actually read my resume so I get placed on the mill, which I am borderline awful at. One of the jobs lasted all of a day. They told me it was an entry level advertising position. When I got there it turned into a sales job immediately. I finished out the first day and promptly went to work at my cousin's movie theater, or job number 5.
This latest shop isn't the worst by any means but I just can't stand the work. I spent the better part of Thursday and Friday wrecking my nerves over nothing. I'm just not invested enough in the work to put forth my best effort. I spent the weekend thinking it over. For some reason I felt like this was something I had to do. That it was my only choice. I hated it. I spent the weekend drinking, watching football and writing with the idea that machining was my future running around in my brain. Monday comes around and it's another awful day. I'm called cocky. I'm told that I'm all talk. That I've shown the company that hired me absolutely nothing. It got under my skin a bit. I knuckled down and showed them I knew what I was doing but it left a bitter taste in my mouth. On the way home it finally hit me, go back to school.
So that is what I did. I applied to GTCC last night and filled out all my FAFSA information. I don't get a Pell Grant for this semester but by the time Fall 2014 rolls around I should be set. I'd been toying with the idea for a while anyway, this job was the impetus I needed to finally shift into that gear. I've proven all I need to myself when it comes to machining. I have no real desire to do it anymore. It's time to move on to new pastures. I'm a writer. Some of the best times of my life have been writing stuff for Comics Bulletin or covering events for them. I'm not going to school for journalism however, at least not at the moment. I'm looking more into Advertising. I feel like the mixed media approach that it offers would allow me to flex what little creative muscle I have. I'm excited. It made work bearable today. Knowing that this isn't the end all be all of my career life allowed me to relax and get over myself a bit.
To sum it up I guess... 26 years old. Going to college. Oh boy.
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