When All Else Fails

Anne here!

Did anyone else have a really crappy time at their day job? No? Just me? Alright.

Unfortunately for all of you, this is going to affect my blog post today, because it'll be the whole damn thing.

I don't catch feelings often, and they aren't in the way you may assume. I haven't had feelings for anyone romantically since I met my husband, but this is different. When I catch feelings now, they usually lead to a depressive episode, that takes forever to dig myself out of. Currently, I feel like feeding myself to some feral hogs in the rough woods somewhere, just to get away from the day I've had.

I won't go into a lot of details, but this will hopefully make sense.

Customer service sucks. Plain and simple. The customer is never right, and in small cases when they are, it was probably escalated further than it ever should have been. I had an email fight with someone about needing special documents that they swore I told them we didn't require. I had to apologize, repeatedly, that at first I had said that, but that I backtracked when I learned new information about the situation and corrected myself. Now it came time to renew their license and they didn't have a new form for this document that we require. I asked them for it and they sent the whole situation on a downward spiral.

What did I do?

I kept apologizing, because I know that if I put my foot down and match their energy, I would lose my job. A job that took me five months to procure after covid took my old job last year. A job where I have an understanding boss and a fairly easy work load (even if I'm not paid well regardless). I fumed, I complained a little to my boss (after making sure she knew I had it handled and that I would be nice about it), and tried not to cry into my lunch as I took my first break of the day.

The kicker is that my last email to her before today had a small misspoken word that she took to mean she didn't need this important document, even though I quoted our legally binding rules and regulations at the end of the email. The one telling her that the specific license she possesses must have this document to be valid. But I'm wrong, right? I'm the one that has prevented her from working for a month while she gets this taken care of, even though she could have put in for her renewal months ago, before it expired, and avoided this mess.

That should have been it, right? No.

I've been overthinking about it the entire day. Fear trickles into my mind telling me that someone will get wind of what happened, even though I took full responsibility for it, and I will get let go. It's hard to shake off impending fear that pulses behind my eyes, creating a headache that won't go away. I try to brush it off, because they are only one person, and my work shows for itself otherwise, but every brain cell that's left up there scream that I am a horrible failure. A scream that will echo on for eternity.

I hate that when things like this happen, I go into survival mode. I think about all the things I can cut from our lives that will help us survive if I lose my job. Even with my husband making good money now, it's an ingrained fear that I know will never go away.

Even still, with the good job, anytime he tells me that he was pulled into a meeting with his boss because he wanted to talk to him about something, my brain instantly goes to him getting let go or laid off. I hate my brain chemistry and the trauma I've gone through because it isn't something I can just brush off or ignore. The anxiety I am filled with isn't something that will go away if I think of something else. Instead, it fills my stomach and churns until I feel like I will throw up.

That was my work day, today. An anxiety filled shit show that could have been avoided had I not made a small mistake, months ago.

Now, I get to deal with an early onset depression episode while I attempt to control myself from the pleasure I partake in when I am in this sort of headspace. I feel as if I should tie my hands to something to keep from worsening this, but my anxiety overrides that and tells me that I won't be able to fret over things if I am immobile. The part not controlled by those thought just wants a damn nap.

Why do I stay in a job I mostly hate? Capitalism. And until I can make enough money doing something I love, this is my only choice. What gets me through that on a normal, non-confrontational day?

Because when all else fails, knowing I am just a skeleton wearing a meat suit, that will some day whither away and feed the Earth, helps the cloud of doom that likes to linger over me.

Free content below!



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