I wasn’t going to publish this, but then I thought what the heck?<\/p>\n
Before you get worried, yes I’m a bit depressed. No, I’m not suicidal the source of the angst is certainly not worth that. I wrote this one morning before I went to work, I was just letting my mind run and this just appeared on the page.<\/p>\n
I took it as a major sign. Call it my subconscious firing a flare across my brain, think of it as a, “HEY DUMBASS!<\/strong> You really<\/strong> need to find the energy to do something different, because this isn’t cutting it!” <\/p>\n Without further comment…<\/p>\n All the color drains from your world.<\/p>\n You’re not interested in anything except getting through the day to go home to bed.<\/p>\n Nothing is really funny, or happy, or sad because you’re numb.<\/p>\n A friend of your who happens to be a shrink hears about the environment tells you categorically it’s time to quit.<\/p>\n You wonder how long it’s going to be before one of your coworkers comes in and shoots the place up.<\/p>\n You no longer notice the wind in your face, the sun on your skin, or the rain misting your eyes due to your tears.<\/p>\n You start wondering who and how many of your coworkers will call in sick.<\/p>\n The platitudes of your bosses all sound like the adults in a Charlie Brown cartoon. “Blah blah, blah blah blah. Blah blah blah.”<\/p>\n You know to the second how long 30 minutes or 15 minutes is, without looking at your watch.<\/p>\n You often wonder before you sleep, if it would be so bad not to wake up.<\/p>\n You don’t want to talk to the coworkers who may be at work on any given day because they’re pissed off and as, or more depressed than you are.<\/p>\n You fight with yourself every morning to go to work and hate yourself for “winning” the battle and showing up.<\/p>\n Comfort food is your only diet.<\/p>\n You smoke too much, drink too much, get high too much, and those are the only times you’re not in emotional agony. Instead those things just dull the pain to simply a less intolerable level.<\/p>\n You can’t imagine or see the end of the pain.<\/p>\n You start hating everyone and everything around you.<\/p>\n Nothing matters.<\/p>\n You’re no longer concerned with your home, bills, or eating.<\/p>\n The aches and pains in your body, (that you know are because you’re not getting the exercise you need) become normal and just a part of the daily agony of your soul.<\/p>\n You purposely isolate yourself from old friends because being around them, observing their apparent happiness accentuates your misery, because you ask, “Why not me?”.<\/p>\n You no longer look forward to days off. Because those are just days to tease you into believing that perhaps something will change before the torture starts again.<\/p>\n You don’t dream about anything nice, but have nightmares all the time. That’s if you sleep at all.<\/p>\n It’s not at all uncommon for you to have the shits.<\/p>\n You expect anyone you encounter to berate you, or take something from you, waste your time, or try to get one up on you. You trust no-one, even those closest to you.<\/p>\n Your hopes have died, as have you dreams for the future. You see nothing in your future, and your past is a pleasant dream, a fantasy you once had.<\/p>\n You realize re-reading something like this dark missive, that while you should probably share it with your employer, it would be pointless. Your employer isn’t interested in making things better. Making something like this public would simply get you in trouble.<\/p>\n You’re old, and no one gives a shit about your experience, knowledge, or anything else about you, other than you’re a monkey in a chair that middle & upper managers can beat.<\/p>\n You thought writing this, getting it out of your system would make you feel better, and have discovered it just made you feel worse.<\/p>\n And in the end, you return to your desk, knowing all you know, because you also know… You need to have the money and you’ve got no better options.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I wasn’t going to publish this, but then I thought what the heck? Before you get worried, yes I’m a bit depressed. No, I’m not suicidal the source of the angst is certainly not worth that. I wrote this one morning before I went to work, I was just letting my mind run and this … <\/p>\n
\nYou know it’s time to quit a job when…<\/h3>\n