middle of the night, up because I’m just crushed by the enormity of the task of recovery. I want to sleep, I could work tomorrow and I could use the cash. At the same time all the plans I have keep coming to mind, I keep worrying about failure, worrying about reaching the end of the help I’m getting. Everything seems to be up in the air at this time. I can’t count on anything. I could live day to day with the depression if I didn’t have the crushing weight of recovery on top of me. The crushing weight that because I managed to function before people think I can again, and when I can’t do that because the two jobs I had for over a year don’t exist anymore, they say “just work retail”
That’s telling a fish who’s lake dried up to just learn to live on land. I can’t function because of depression, and I’m concerned that the crushing reality of retail is more sinister than unemployment… for me. Works for some people.
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I couldn’t do it, at least not if it involved direct selling. Would you be selling, or managing, or another aspect? i.e., behind the scenes, warehouse, etc.
So this is the nighttime misery you were talking about earlier. That sucks. For me, it usually starts in the morning.
The last time I did it I was a clerk stocking shelves. It’s not the work that I take issue with, it’s the employers. I don’t understand how people live on minimum wage and 3-4 hour shifts. I quit after they scheduled me for 2 hour shifts, and nothing else. 2 hours is 14-15 bucks, 10 after taxes. For me to eat for the day and drive there and back costs more than that. Heck, lunch alone is 4-5 bucks.
I have a decent gig working with my neighbor. I just… resent my station in life. I have way too high ambition for someone living technically in poverty and with my mental illnesses. Like I want to do meaningful work (which today turned out to be), and have my boss not treat me like garbage. What I really want is to drop out of the rat race entirely, move to the edge of town and start a small orchard or something, maybe farm some goats and sell cheese and peaches. Everyone loves cheese and peaches.
I haven’t figured that out, my family is not supportive of my ideas and dreams. To them my ideas are impossible…. everyone just sits in the rat race for life, invest in your 401k so you can wait to be 65 and your body stops working to enjoy yourself. Fuck that. My dad gave the best years of his life to several heartless companies, and now he still has to work at 65, and will likely have to work until death because some bank idiots destroyed the economy. Not for me. I’m not investing myself in things that don’t pay off.