Friday, August 20, 2010

Lights and Tunnels

Sometimes you don't realise it until it's halfway out of your mouth. What you're saying. What it actually means. That, fuck ~ it's the truth.

I've been proper poorly this week. Again. On my return to work interview I was reassured that I have not let things slip and that I am working above and beyond the call of duty (or at least my job boundaries). I don't do this to score brownie points. I do it because I probably don't have anything else to validate my self worth on.

Redundancy has become really scary, even though it is still some months away. My manager was trying to reassure me, but then I heard it actually come out of my mouth. What I've been trying not to say.

'I've kept it together in the past because I always had work as the light. Now there is no light at the end of the tunnel.'

It hit me then, that it his is true. My life is measured against my performance albeit in a job I adore. Stupidly adore. I don't get paid any great wage. I have zero career prospects. But I have a certain autonomy of judgement. I am in control to a certain degree, within certain boundaries. I see good things happening because of my judgement. I work with a lovely team of people in a beautiful city. I have flexible working conditions that allow me to be a good employee even when I'm ill. And it's all being taken away from me.

So no more light. Nothing on the horizon to fill it. I am loved at home yes, but I am caught in my own illnesses, forced to realise that my capacity to earn, to be independent is over. I can no longer work full time - my body just can't handle it. I have to ask for so much from other people who are stressed to capacity in just dealing with their own issues, never mind mine.

This is a horribly cliched post, with stock imagery and phrases. I'm tired, though it's no excuse. Many people are tired, as they keep pointing out to me. Do I have to spend the rest of my life biting my tongue because I am beholden to them?

GD: possibly a bit over wrought. Reading Preacher: Gone to Texas because I need the humour and the jaundiced outlook on life. Listening to Pink Floyd's Division Bell which made me cry and get out of bed when it reached the twin hammers of Coming back to Life / Keep Talking

3 comments:

B said...

and, thank you for reminding me how lucky i am.

i'm sorry things are so bad. i hope you can find a new path.

Ginger Doll said...

B, thanks for the comment.

I think I was guilty of a little bit of wallowing with that post. Perhaps if I were over 40 I may find my body's limitations easier to handle, but as I'm not I feel I should be responsible for myself.

Still, every cloud and all that. Today is a glorious day!

LiVEwiRe said...

Just because you think it's a cliched post, as you say, that does not make it any less true, valid or important.

For what it's worth, I can understand being so closely tied to what you do; having it be totally intermingled with your perception of self-worth. We both know it doesn't define, but for some, it truly does. It represents more than the naked eye can observe.

I know this must be terribly difficult. It made me think of a saying ~ When you find yourself going through hell, just keep on going! I laugh because I can see you with that attitude.

Despite the limitations and realization of them, I know you will find a way to keep going, adjustments aside. My best to you sweetie! xo