I’m pulling a Rachel Green and getting ‘The Fear’ OR HOLY SHIT I’m about to quit my job, A Journey. Part I. Of many.

I can’t, at this point, be bothered to type out the past few weeks’ events that have culminated in this post. It can be a whole other blog post in and of itself.

I’ve not written ANYTHING since February, and it’s April next week. I’ve not had the focus to get anything down. I probably should have MADE TIME, because it would’ve helped, but hindsight is a wonderful thing, and life is a string of lessons.

Anyway. I’m quitting my job. Handing my notice in on April 1st, and working my month of notice. After that, I have nothing. No new job. No concrete plans. Only at this point a few loosely put together ideas -and I’m terrified.

BUT I AM SO EXCITED.

I know that this is the right decision. I have spent far too long stuck in this rut, complaining about how much I can’t stand my job, how little I can stand some (not all!) of the people, how mentally, physically and emotionally drained I feel, have felt, for months.

Depression and Anxiety are odd life partners. It is so very easy to get comfortable being with them, and being terrified of leaving them behind and moving on without them, despite wanting with all of your might for them to just leave you alone forever.  I’ve been comfortable just plodding along hating life, being depressed and anxious, and I think that’s because this state is all I’ve really ever known. I don’t know what it’s like to change, take risks, to put myself first, to be consistently happy, to fight for what I want and really make an effort to get it. So I’ve stayed. Weeks have melted in to months and despite promising myself that I wouldn’t reach the 2 year mark, here I am, sat in this same office, 2 years and 5 months in.

Enough. I am done. Not the kind of ‘done’ where I get home and rant for an hour and then put on my happy face when I get into the office the next day like nothing ever happened, but really, actually, absolutely and completely done. Notice letter is being written and handed in next week.

I am good at my job, but I’ve been slipping. Things have been missed. Mistakes have been made (and quickly corrected, but that’s besides the point.) That’s WHY I need to leave – I DON’T CARE. I don’t care enough to double and triple check that everything is correct. I don’t care enough to really push myself to do more than the bare minimum. I don’t care enough to not get distracted by other things. I know that that’s awful in terms of work ethic, it really is. I’m a bad employee at this point, but that’s because my spark has gone out. I’ve been stifled, suffocated, pinched, snubbed. I couldn’t give any more if I tried, because I have no more to give. My confidence and self worth have become all but nulified. I can’t remember if I ever had it in the first place. Fake it till you make it, I’ve always been told – but I’m 26 this year and I don’t think *THIS* even comes close to making it, whatever ‘it’ is.

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