What is the lowest point/ season in life that you remember? Did it ever get better from there?
This joblessness is killing me and my money is running dry, it’s only a matter of time. Yet I dreaded the job when I actually had one. No, it’s more the people that I hate, those talentless “high flying†corporate bitches. Pretty sure I will encounter those ugly personalities again if and when I land a job.
Have gone for a handful of fruitless interviews, I think one rejected me because I pointed out a grammatical error in their application form. It is the local branch of a multinational company. Most people here speak shitty English.
I realised my strong point (through interacting with those talentless “high flying†corporate bitches who speak shitty English), which is bilingual ability. Through my previous travels to different countries, the native speakers and otherwise often complimented me on my language. So I’m not blowing my own trumpet here. As if there’s any ounce of pride left in me.
My goal now is to be a professional translator & interpreter, and for that I will have to undertake further studies. Unfortunately, I do not have the means even though my father does but I am the black sheep of his family. He hates me. I hate him too.
Effectively I have been robbed of a future, any chance to make good of this “talentâ€. My anger is brewing and it’s primed to explode very soon.
5 comments
The lowest season of my life was from when I was 9 years old to when I was 21. 2013 was a good year because I believed I would be able to commit suicide. Often while thinking about the day I was supposed to kill myself I felt extremely euphoric. But then I failed. From then until now I’ve felt worse than before, because now I know how hard is to catch the bus.
However, I cannot deny I still have a molecule of hope of being able to off myself soon.
My lowest point was prostate cancer. They put me on 2 different hormones and one experimental hormone treatment. I effectively became bipolar for six months. The highs were amazing. I would talk to anyone. Strangers in the street, people in a coffee shop, dancing when the opportunity arose and laughing, laughing. The lows were something I never hope to experience again. One day, alone in my kitchen the sobbing began. I collapsed to the floor, lying face down on the floor it felt as if a 300 pound line backer was standing on my back. I crawled along the floor crying, slobbering snot, unable to get off the floor to even sit in a chair. I found my phone to call someone but when I spoke into the phone all that came out was animal sounds. I had become a wounded animal crawling, bawling on the floor.
Finally I got off the hormones and had the prostectomy (prostate operation) and I wore diapers for 6 months because I couldn’t control my urine flow. How humiliating is that? To walk into a store and buy a box of diapers! Believe it or not I’m laughing now remembering all this.
This operation also left me unable to have sex. They had cut a nerve in the penis so unable to attain an erection.
All this happened after being laid off from a 38 year career in printing. I was 58 at the time. I have applied to over 3000 jobs for the last 5 years from printing jobs to Starbucks. Rejection was my middle name. I read this now and it dawns on me that you might consider me a loser. But I had owned a fairly successful printing business. I was the highest paid press operator when I ran a press. I owned a yoga studio also for a time. Now I’m 62 and I have considered suicide. I’ve spent many a night gazing over the cape cod canal bridgel looking at the inky waters below as they called to me. I still consider suicide.
I belive I have to lose everything to gain the world. Everything has been stripped until there’s nothing left but to look into myself and find what is truly important in life. That job, that prostate, sex, money, any future job is just stuff. Not so important. What is important? That’s the question I keep in my mind that keeps me going. What am I? What is this??? Keep the question alive.
Randall, that is an amazing, hard earned experience. I am impressed, you lifted my spirits today!
Thank you for telling your story, dear Randall. I guess you have seen more darkness than me, but mine is not nearing the dawn yet. I have no words.
Take care and God bless you.
If you’re bilingual you should definitly use it. My first language is French, and I can only write english good. I would have a real better job now if I was bilingual.