I dislike how I feel right now. Moody. Unsure. Unable to picture a clear future. Everything seems hazy, and the haze is uncomfortable.
It’s possible that these feelings are closely linked with my menstrual cycle. However, my therapist tells me that the feelings which arise during this time might also be indicative of something deeper, something habitual.
Right now, it feels like I can’t do anything right. I can’t think clearly, and I can’t embrace these uncomfortable feelings. I just want them to go away.
Part of my anxiety has to do with money. I feel financially insecure, and this insecurity has been with me for 20 years. I find a job, and then I quit — because I dislike the job.
I can’t seem to find a job I like, and I can’t seem to build a career, either. Since college, I’ve had this idea that I’m a writer, the kind of writer who thinks of writing as a calling. But I don’t know if I have the stamina to write while not making money.
What I mean is, I know I can make money writing. But the kind of writing that makes money is not the kind of writing I want to do. I suppose most writers feel this way. And maybe that’s why I feel like my particular discomfort is uninteresting, to everyone except me.
I want to be mindful — I don’t want to feel sorry for myself. It’s just that the situation can feel a bit hopeless sometimes, that’s all.
I wish I could just make enough money to pay my bills, but still have enough time to breathe and to write. Every job seems to suck the life out of me. I take things too seriously. Every employer has valued me as an employee, but I don’t care about the work I do. Or the work I did.
Maybe the root of my problem is that I feel perpetually alone on this journey. The journey to figure out who I am, in relation to everything else. I understand there is no fixed identity, and I understand that life will always bring new challenges, but in these moments of feeling lost, it’s difficult to sit with the uncertainty.