Sometimes I wake up confused. It’s dark, and I panic, thinking I’m late for work. Then I relax and fantasize briefly about calling in sick.
I hate my job. There’s no question about it. I am doing the exact last thing I ever wanted to do. I feel backed into a wall, and like any good animal, lashing out is becoming more and more frequent, whether it’s damage inflicted on myself, or others. Mostly I just seem to get bitter and curt, to the point where people ask me if I’m in a bad mood. What, you think? Really? I’m in a bad mood?
I don’t know how it could be anymore obvious that I’m on the very brink of what it is to be living, if you can even call this living. This is barely an existence at all. I don’t feel cheated, but ashamed, ashamed this is all I am and all I will ever be. I’m too weak, too crushed by expectations to budge and too much of a coward to face what’s coming for me. Every inaction on my part comes as a slap to the face, and I feel as though I am dragged through this whole ordeal, with no choices and no hope. I don’t care enough to change, and I don’t believe enough to keep going on.
I’m in physical pain from taking on too much and suffering mentally from enduring everything else. Let’s take someone who is socially insecure and put her in a job where all she does is communicate with people all day. Let’s have her take money at a register even though she feels too fucking incompetent to so much as count someone’s change. I’m deathly afraid I’m doing everything wrong. I hear myself over the speaker, echoing back and I cringe. I spend 6-9 hours in an absolute hell, where the only thing I can do is dig my nails into my palms, and rush into the back room before anyone sees that I am so uncomfortable I am on the verge of sobbing. I can barely take it. But I don’t know what else to do. The only way I will get out of this place is by rising above it. I’m an uneducated young person with no experience and no connections. I don’t even drive myself to work. The best I can expect to get is the position I’m being trained for. I fuck that up and I have to start all over. And fuck, starting over isn’t a goddamned option for me. I can’t. I won’t.
What does it matter? It’s all over anyway.