When Enough Is Enough

I have alluded to my unhappiness with my last job on this blog before. I have mentioned it but not gone into too much detail. Since this is a public forum I will not go into specifics about the company or reasons why I left. But I can say the company culture, environment, policies, industry, and schedule were absolutely not for me. I learned a lot there. I have so much I can put on my resume. There are countless projects I worked on and skills I gained. But the job also took a lot from me as well.

I constantly complained. If I had a bad day (which was often) I called up my parents to bitch and moan. Soon after, I would call my boyfriend to complain some more. If it was really bad I would call friends after that. I needed to complain to everyone about my bad situation. Every time I spoke with my boyfriend I had some new story to tell, a new grievance to mull over. This was constant and unrelenting. I couldn’t help myself. I needed to explain my frustrations. To try to make them understand what I dealt with on a daily basis. My friends and family were good to me. They let me complain. They didn’t put up much of a stink about it. But I knew deep down that I wore them down. That they were apprehensive about my calls. That hearing endless complaints is tiring and all around not fun. But I couldn’t help myself.

I was also constantly spent. I would come home from work and not feel like doing anything. I didn’t feel like going grocery shopping or making dinner. I didn’t want to clean or write a blog. I didn’t do crafts or bake or even read, activities I used to enjoy. I wished I did these activities more. I wanted to make myself home cooked meals. I wanted to write a blog. I wanted to read. But I was so emotionally and mentally spent from my job I could not find the motivation to tackle any of these tasks. The only thing I could manage was heating some food in the microwave, watching TV and browsing Tumblr.

In general I felt unhappy. I knew I hated my job, but it’s not until this moment looking back on things do I truly realize how much that job affected me. It changed me. It kept me from doing the things that I loved. It kept me from making my friends and family happy. I kept me from appreciating the little things in my life that give me joy.

So why didn’t I leave sooner?

Change is scary. Change is hard. I hated my job, but I knew what to expect. I knew I was good at it. I knew the routine. To move on from that meant moving to the unknown. What if I wasn’t good at my next job? What should I expect? What was I even looking for in a new position? Those questions paralyzed me. They left me stagnant and unable to make a change for a long time. But finally, finally I started making some moves. I made the decision to leave. I didn’t want to sacrifice my personal life, my happiness for this job any longer.

Enough was enough.

Would I change anything that happened? No. That experience helped to define me. It led me here, where I am abundantly happy. It helped me to grow and to learn. It taught me a lot about myself and my morals. So no I would not change my experience, but I certainly don’t plan to go through it again.

So my final advice is make the change. The unknown is scary. It’s scary but so worth it.

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