I have to start looking for a new job. I know I’ve been yammering about this for months. Like absolute fucking months, if not years, so this is an act of procrastination that I’ve been riding as far out as possible. The problem is I don’t want to get a new job. I have a friend that researches psychedelics and he explained that after use the brain spends the next five days restructuring itself. Sunday was the day I used, so I have an unusually reflective headspace available until Friday to carefully evaluate things.
I smoked last night and at 10pm I was dangling on swings, trying clear my head. I really hate corporate jobs. The job I have right now is the only one where I’ve actually felt happy. I would describe my boss as Mr. Rogers on cocaine. He is super nice but also a fucking punk. It makes for a liberating work environment because I hate rules and structure. Sometimes I will show up 50 minutes late to work and when my boss tries to confront me about it I act like I’m the fucking victim. Most jobs have someone breathing down your neck, if not outright fucking panting, and the only people that survive those prisons, let alone thrive, are the ones that are professionals at taking it up the ass.
Sometimes I’m weirded out by my personality because it can be difficult for me to integrate into situations, environments. I texted my uncle about what I was like as a young kid and he responded: “You were very fashion conscious, knew what you wanted and did not want. Had a very strong dislike for anyone trying to influence you. As you matured, a very strong disdain if you suspected control or manipulation. A complete free thinker from day one.” I love my family, they’ve spoiled me with attention.
I watch a lot of mental health content on YouTube and came across a short by HealthyGamerGG and he talked about how the brain has 2 functions: it operates as a forward and as a goalie. What happens with trauma is that the brain stops being a forward and just becomes a goalie, obsessively keeping bad experiences out. My fear of job searching, the absolute anxiety that hits every time, is a product of my brain going exclusively into goalie mode. It is paralyzed by the thought of moving forward, of exiting a known safety. As Samuel Beckett wisely echoes in Endgame “Outside of here it’s death.”
a soft death 