There was a time when I was young when I knew I would be successful. I was always aggressive and determined, even as a young girl. I worked hard in school, enjoyed my hobbies, and convinced myself that I would be someone. I was so sure that the world would fall away; I would explode out of my shell and out of my rural town. I graduated college, I moved to the big city, I had my own apartment.
That's where my progress through life halted. Somewhere along the way, hard work became insufficient. My skills and talents became lost in an ocean of similarly-talented coworkers. Along the way, peers who were perceived by me as less talented, but great at interaction, moved forward and I stayed behind. My career wasn't moving me forward at the speed I was expecting. Jobs were already scarce when I graduated in 2009, and the slog through entry-level wages became less about "paying your dues" and more like, "this is the new job market, get used to it."
I am no longer aggressive and determined. I think I used it all up when I was young and energetic. My future seemed so clear and tangible back then. Now I'm melancholy, and prone to inexplicable anger.
Happy couples posed in front of a newly purchased home; celebration of a new baby; an exciting overseas vacation; inspirational quotes and memes: these things bring out so much venom in me. I can only rant and rave in my own mind about the unfairness. How do I justify so much hate against innocent, life-loving, happy, interesting people,k successful? I can't in public, so I suffer it in my head. To me, it makes perfect sense.
The slow death of my motivation has been hard to deal with. It's difficult to watch other achieve their dreams, and then to remind yourself, "That's not for you." It's a lot of browsing Airbnb for beautiful homes in exotic locations, and then x-ing out of the site because I know getting my hopes up is pointless.
For the first time in my life I have no hopes, desires, dreams, or ambitions. Sometimes my friends on Facebook repost the tired old meme of, "There's no way you were just made to pay bills and die." It's supposed to affirm that there is more to life than working and dying.
However, to me, it means, "Yes, most people go through life without making a mark and are gone forever." That's me. I'm going to work my very stable, but unambitious job, I'm going to pay my bills on time, and I'm going to die without leaving a single mark on this world. A part of me doesn't want to accept that, and wants to fight and dream.
I think one day, I'll be ok.