I never really figured out how to be ok with intensely wanting something that you can’t have. The kind of desire that feels most crucially fundamental, where a part of you just yells “Yes! This is what life is all about! This is all you need to focus on!” I never learned how to let go of those feelings, how to accept reality and move on.
I’ve seen other people do it constantly throughout my life. Seen them subconsciously recognise that they’re not going to get anywhere with a desire, accept that fact, and refocus. Seen them find happiness by adjusting their expectations, by letting go, to the point where they don’t even think about what once seemed so important. I know people do this, because otherwise they wouldn’t be able to function. They’d be neurotic wrecks, like me.
I’ve just never worked out how to bring myself to let go like that. Possibly it’s because I never had to learn it as a child. I never really wanted anything that intensely when I was young. Sure, I may have wanted to go to Disneyland, or I wanted a computer. But I didn’t actually care about those things – I just vaguely wanted what my richer friends had. I had everything I needed. It wasn’t until I hit 13 that I really had to face the fact that something could feel incredibly crucial, and yet still be beyond your reach. And I had no idea how to deal with that feeling by that point. So I hid in fantasy. I pretended to myself that there was a way around the fact – that I would overcome any obstacles. I told myself lies. I constantly kept the feeling alive in my mind, reinforcing it, refusing to move on. I observed others adjusting to similar disappointments and moving on, but I scorned their willingness to compromise with reality. I completely stunted my emotional development in the process. I missed out on countless opportunities for actually meaningful experiences, clinging on to something that would never be.
Over 20 years later, I still have no clue how to let go or move on. I’m sure there are some choices that I’m making that are helping to keep such feelings alive, but most of the time it seems completely beyond my control. I just have to constantly deal with the feeling that the only worthwhile things in life are beyond me. It sucks, and I hate it. I did it to myself, I’m doing it to myself, but I don’t know how to stop.
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I’m not sure that my method is a good one, but I’ve lost and lost, and often enough turned away from something I was once passionate about. So it goes.
I reduce myself back until I can remember the moment that desire started. Then I kill it right there. I had this young lady I was absolutely smitten with, some years ago. I nearly killed myself when she rejected me. She, even now, is so beautiful that it hurts to look at her.
She wasn’t interested, so the entire fantasy I had of a relationship with her was just that, a fantasy. Once I understood the unreality, and the reality that made it impossible, I was able to start cobbling myself back together.
Then again, this loss I’m trying to process now is really hard. After abandoning the idea of satisfaction through romantic relationship, I ended up becoming enthralled with the idea of helping others. That is not a productive career anymore. It will kill me if I don’t get out. I need to figure out how to earn money doing stuff I don’t care about… and that has me stumped.
I’ll kill the desire in the end, because killing my own hopes is the one thing I’m really good at. It takes many years and lots of work to detach from needing the approval and participation of others. It is, sadly, the only path to real peace.
I think for me there’s a disconnect between rationally understanding the reality that makes the desire impossible, and the emotional acceptance of those facts. All is takes is a small reminder and my brain gets completely hijacked. I don’t know how to kill the desire. It seems to be immune to all logic and reason.
Wow. This whole post really echoes how I am feeling at the moment.
All I ever wanted in life was a successful career. I didn’t care about having kids. (I did want to get married at one point, but I let that go quite easily). I didn’t care about my looks or my long term health. I didn’t care about “work/life balance”. I expended all of my resources (emotional, financial, and spiritual) toward my career. I studied relentlessly throughout 8 years of university, and once I started working, I pulled countless all-nighters in the office. (I remember one year I was in the office until 11:30pm on Christmas Eve.)
My career didn’t go as planned. Despite my prestigious education, I didn’t get one of the illustrious jobs at the top end of the pay scale. I didn’t think I would be able to accept that, but I did. I adjusted my expectations and followed a different route that I thought would yield a lot of money. That route failed too, and I pivoted again, taking a government job that didn’t have the prestige or potential for serious money, but it was very good money, and it had a pension. I realized I was never going to rise to the top, even within the government, and I accepted that too. I figured as long as I can eventually pay off my student loans and live in a nice little apartment, and maintain an average level of competence at work, that would be enough.
And then, even that fell apart. I just couldn’t keep up, largely because of mental health issues, many of which were undiagnosed for years. I even tried one last Hail Mary by taking a job at a non-profit. It was a 50% pay cut, and I had to live in a sketchy apartment in a bad area of town, but I thought the work would be more manageable and as long as I could at least stay in my profession, even on the lowest rung of the ladder, barely scraping by financially, it would be enough. But I couldn’t even keep up with that job either.
Now I’m unable to work and I’m on disability. The career that I devoted my entire adult life to is dead, and I won’t be able to resurrect it, even if I miraculously do recover from illness.
I know there are people on disability who lead meaningful lives, and that I could try to recalibrate my expectations once more, but I just cannot get there. I managed to accept that I will be alone for my entire life, and that I wouldn’t have the career I thought I would. But I cannot accept having no career at all, especially since I still owe a significant balance on my student loans. I can’t accept that I am 38 and have absolutely nothing to show for myself. I know I could at least try to reinvent myself, but I just can’t seem to do it. This is one thing that is just too big to let go of.
That sounds very tough to deal with. I’m sure it doesn’t seem fair to put in so much effort without getting the intended results. As someone who’s put zero effort into any kind of career (and has spent most of his adult life unemployed), it’s hard for me to wrap my head around that sort of ambition. I used to want to be a writer, and I still have that dream, but that’s not really dependent on any kind of structure of recognition like other careers are – I just thought it would be a cool way to make a living.
So…if I understand you right, what you relate to in my post is feeling unable to let go of something that feels incredibly fundamental to you, which is your idea of a career. If I could break that down slightly, are there any more basic components of that desire that could still be fulfilled? Is it about a particular interest in the theory of the field you work in, and might there be some way to remain engaged with that in an amateur capacity? Is it about status and recognition, and are there other ways you could meet those needs? Supposing you found other ways to earn some money (e.g. freelancing from home), what would be missing from your idea of “career”? What are the necessary requirements to meet your idea of what is acceptable? Do you need to make a certain amount to avoid being evicted? I dropped out of college relatively early, and I’m lucky enough to live in a country where you only start paying off student loans once you make a moderate income, so I don’t know what pressures those are putting on you?
I obviously don’t know what your diagnosis is, but are you certain you’ll necessarily be alone all your life? It sounds like you have a lot of education and work experience to “show for yourself”, which is more than many people (myself included.) What is it about the career that it feels unacceptable to do without?