As I sit here contemplating life I wish I could be more like this fellow in the picture above. I feel stuck – yes I know what stuck means.
I know what I want to do and I’m working at it, but my personal reserves feel depleted, and I don’t feel like I have anything in me that the world beyond my front door wants.
I’m a Woman from IT, and looking back at my years of experience, as I put my CV together, I realise that there is no way I’d ever walk into a job that would utilise my years of experience and accumulated fungible skills because a) I’m a woman and b) I’ve had a child and c) Hiring managers are usually men that either hire pretty young women, or other men, and avoid hiring older women with children.
I have little choice but to try something else – or go to call centres, answering first level support calls (“I can’t see my H: drive”, “I don’t know how to get my thingy back”) – which will just do my head in.
I want to be a writer. I have written articles, poetry, books and so on, along with everybody else.
Hardly anybody wants to read what I have to say. I’m just not that appealing in my thoughts, style or artistic choices. Not even my own biological family is interested. Not my mother, father, brothers, sisters, cousins, steps, halves and adopteds… There has to be a record for that, because every kid I knew in school in a garage band, had their parents buy up boxes of Gas Mask Culture (Nirvana-wannabe) tat… flogging it to aunts and uncles, cousins and siblings.
I draw – typography – portraits – but they’re not any better, or worse, than anyone else’s and same goes for my photography. I have some beautiful pieces that everybody admires but nobody buys.
Am I destined to be like Vincent Van Gogh?
Probably not, I don’t know how to express myself that well,. and I’m unlikely to chop my own ear off. Though I had an Uncle Trevor that bit an Uncle Mussolini’s ear off – does that count?
I have a head full of designs, plots, science fiction, political, humour, all sitting on my brain and hard drive, notebooks and post-its in various stages – and just no way to get it all out – I had a fantastic idea for a new children’s toy that would increase interest in Generation Z’s digital world, inspiring future careers. Someone will get that idea too and make a mint, I’ve lost count of the number of times in my life I’ve looked at something and said “I thought of that years ago”.
I am stuck in the prison of my own mind and I don’t know where I last forgot the key to retrieve it, open the gates and find some sense of optimism or enthusiasm to see where I need to be next.
I have to think that where it comes to work, I am just not lucky, not talented enough, no genius, and I am so weird that I can’t even blend in with the normals. Does anyone else ever feel this way, or am I the only one?