The Point of No Return

I paid off the remainder of my school balance. I wasn’t planning to pay it off all at once, but another round of loans was added and it brought the balance down so low, I figured I may as well just get it over with. However, I’m now almost $10,000 in debt for student loans.

If I had any thoughts of quitting, that would’ve shattered them. At the same time, it reignites my anxiety about school as a whole.

The point of putting myself through all of this is having a job in this field, so I’ll no longer be dependent on retail and can finally move toward being financially independent. But what if that does not happen? My school is having a career fair in a few days and, despite being told some employers will wait on a student to finish their schooling, that sounds too good to be true. What if no one is interested in my resume? Or I fail an interview? In fact, interviewing is my worst fear in regards to getting a job because I am terrible at speaking. I struggle to verbally say what I mentally want to, even when I know what I’m talking about, and the result is I trip over my words. I am already at a disadvantage because I do not have a business suit and while my school does let students borrow one, it depends on what’s available from donations. They do not have business suits collecting dust in a closet, waiting to hand them out. I’m genuinely worried that alone will kill first impressions of me.

There is no point in quitting school at this point, but if my worst fear is realized – zero change in how employable I am, and being qualified for nothing beyond retail – making all this stress and debt to have been for absolutely nothing, I think I will finally give up on life. I won’t say I’ll kill myself (maybe not right then…), but I won’t have the will to try anymore and I don’t see what good I can contribute to society as a burden who can’t do more than ring a cash register.

The anxiety over so much time, effort, and money being sunk into school being worthless and being crushed by a mountain of debt I would’ve foolishly acquired genuinely made me feel physically sick some time ago. And no, yelling “it will be worth it” is not of any help because nobody knows that, including myself. I don’t know if it will be worth it any more than anyone else does. Only time can tell me if it will be worth it and, were I religious, I’m almost certain I’d be praying every night time was on my side. Even as I type this post, I genuinely feel myself wanting to break because I want that badly for everything to have been worth it. If only wanting something guaranteed you get it (I want to be 14 years old again for the youthful appearance, but that’s not happening).

Yep. This is a perfect representation of my face 95% of the time.

No Birthday

My birthday is in two days. I could not care less.

Is it what I’m putting myself through even worth it?

Is all this stress really going to pay off in the end?

Is there a point to this struggling besides making me wish I didn’t exist to deal with it?

Does it matter if I return to school or keep working?

Is being frugal worth it if I’m broke anyway?

Why am I still going on with this? Why am I still trying? What am I getting out of this?

What is the result of all this? What am I supposed to look forward to?

Does it even exist?

The only “good” thing about this birthday it lets me return to school.

My hours have been cut, I am pinching pennies, I can’t afford so much as a pack of cupcakes, and I have no one to spend it with.

There is nothing good about this birthday. I don’t want this birthday. I don’t want to remember it.

No, I’m not okay. No, I’m not happy. No, I’m not looking forward to my birthday. It can die.

I don’t care.

Never Good Enough

It’s funny how no matter how much goodness there is in the world, it still pales in comparison to the opposite, whether on a massive scale or a much smaller, more personal one.

I don’t consider myself a horrible person. I’ve never broken the law. I’ve willingly helped people and enjoyed doing so. I’ve helped out at community events, helped clean up a beach, volunteered my time at a food bank, and looked after others’ children. I’m kind to and have helped my best friend and my boyfriend. I’ve stayed up all night multiple times to be there for someone I cared about dealing with a rough night, online and offline. I don’t have any bigotries.

I don’t sound like an awful person and I would hope I’m not. Yet I deal with feelings of worthlessness all the time for one reason and one reason only: I’ve never had a job.

That fact alone makes me feel like I am little more than a plague on society who’d have been better off not existing. I don’t think about it when I’m around others, but when I’m alone, the thought often creeps in and I question if any of the above really matters. I fear losing the positive relationships I have due to losing the respect of those of I care about for being jobless. I question why, if I could make the action to end things painless, I choose to remain alive. I question why I can’t do this one thing it seems everyone has done multiple times by my age, no matter how hard I try. I question if I’m really worth anything, and if what I listed above are merely distractions or ways to make up for my lack of being a contributing member to society.

I’ve lost the ability to see myself in any position different from the one I’m in. This is the only way I can picture myself when I’m 30, 40, 50 years old, assuming I live that long. A small part of me doesn’t want to see any more future birthdays, not even 2017’s. I fear reaching yet another age.

Then, there’s a part of me that feels very selfish. I visited my best friend this past Friday and she briefly vented to me about her job. She has had her job for a full year, but she abhors it and wants a different one. Shortly after, she showed me the new phone she’d gotten. While I still felt sympathy for her troubles at work, a part of me still felt envious solely because she has a job. One she hates and could never live off of, but a job nonetheless. Of course, I kept my feelings to myself and didn’t tell her, but the truth is would it not leave her jobless instead of me, I’d switch places with her immediately if it were possible.

I don’t believe I will ever fit in as a functioning societal member and it’s not a thought that makes me happy. I want to work and I want to be a contributor, but so far, my efforts have resulted in nothing more than rejection and more questions of my own worth. Yes, I’m aware many people experience joblessness, but I believe most of those people had already worked a minimum of two jobs by my age whereas my work experience is absolutely blank.

I hate I have this feeling. I hate the feeling of everything I do meaning nothing because it doesn’t compare to me working and paying for myself to the extent a job would allow me to. I hate this feeling overshadows everything. I know a job is nowhere near fun and I’d likely feel the same as my best friend if I did find a job. I know the difference between imagined expectations and reality, as it’s led to changes in what were my long-term goals. In spite of that, my self-worth is still in question due to my lack of any employment within my lifetime. I feel I could save someone from certain death, and still see myself as having contributed nothing to society when I later returned home.

I remember being a child and believing adults had everything figured out. After all, that’s why adults were in charge of children instead of the other way around. At least, that’s essentially what I was told. I’ve already been looked down on for my age multiple times and I know I will always be sneered at for it by people older than me, no matter what age I’m at. I’ve seen adults whose maturity was outmatched by children look down their noses at me for being younger than them. Age means a lot beyond the laws in society. I’ve not yet found the age where I’m an adult who has everything figured out like the adults I met as a child did. Supposedly, that age does not exist, but I wonder if it really does and I’m one of those people who hasn’t caught up to it yet. I really don’t know what adulthood is supposed to be, but I know I’m doing every ounce of it wrongly.

Don’t Be A Judge

I’m not talking about the career path. I mean being judgmental in general.

Nearly two years ago, I wrote out a post on things I’ll never do in my life. At the top of the list was drugs and for good reason. Even without knowing just how bad drugs like tobacco and alcohol are, having people in my family who do them tells me enough. However, lately, I feel like I’ve started understanding just why people turn to drugs.

I’m stressed out and that’s a way I’ve been feeling often, as of late. For the most part, I manage to handle it, but every now and then, there’s a day where my thoughts turn to drinking. Not only having one drink either. These thoughts are usually binging on alcohol until I pass out and there have been times where the only thing that stops me from doing it is not wanting to deal with a hangover later on. To compensate, I binge on soda when I’m very stressed out, which isn’t healthy either, but won’t get me drunk. Unfortunately, soda doesn’t always work.

If that’s how I feel within a day, it’s not so hard for me to see what leads other people down that path. Before I go any further, let me stress I am not condoning alcoholism or other drug addictions. They’re still terrible. I’m only explaining I’m beginning to understand why people turn to drugs to cope. If you told me I could have something that’d block out my senses, and make me forget every single thing that’s plaguing my mind right now, and the only side effect was falling unconscious some time later, I would take it. I just don’t want to risk addiction, so I don’t do it because I know if I start using those as a way of handling stress, I won’t stop.

My problems are far from the worst there could be. If I’m having thoughts of drinking myself into unconsciousness from the stress I’m feeling, how must some people who have it worse than me feel? I’m not surprised someone would decide they’d rather put up with the bad effects later on to feel good now for a while. What about the people who feel like they have nothing else to lose? Truthfully, that’s one of my reasons sometimes. I feel like I’m at the bottom as it is and I can’t get any lower, so what’s the worst that could happen if I got drunk for a day or night? I know what’s the worst, but on my worst days, I feel like the risk would be worth it.

I’m aware addiction hurts more than the person with it and that’s another reason I try my hardest not to give in to the thoughts of binge drinking I have. Despite how much they’ve hurt me, I don’t want to hurt my family. I especially don’t want to hurt my best friend and boyfriend, who have never hurt me. I don’t want to lose being able to see my clinician, who’s become somewhat more of my friend now since I’m out of high school, and going to the events she hosts and as open-minded as she is, I’m certain she wouldn’t want someone with a drug addiction around her family, especially her niece and niece’s friends. I don’t want to lose me.

In short, I’m trying to stop a bad habit before it starts. Yes, I know there’s such a thing as moderation, but that’s not something I feel I can trust myself to maintain.

While that resolve of never using drugs hasn’t changed, my perspective of people with those addictions certainly has. I have no room to judge someone about binging on alcohol when I’m having thoughts of doing the same. If nothing else, the stress I’m dealing with and the thoughts I’m having are teaching me two things: 1) I’m not above anything and 2) this is why it’s critically important to never judge someone. People are different and you have no idea.

Things Change

I’ve been going through my archives every now and then. I post so infrequently because I have little to talk about, but it sometimes amuses me how much things have changed since I wrote some of the posts I did. And how much some things have not changed.

I’ve noticed one thing changing for certain. My tolerance level for my family. It seems the longer I stay with them, the lower it gets. Most of my time is spent thinking about how to get away from them. Funnily enough, a lot of the negative emotions I feel only happen around them. When I’m away from home, whether it’s by myself or with my friends, they vanish like they were never there to begin with.

My mom and sister have left my life completely. Why, I don’t know. The last I remember is my mom being mad at me for something between her and my dad. I’m clueless as to what I had to do with it. Whenever I eventually move out on my own (or with someone else), I don’t exactly plan to maintain much contact with my family here. Sometimes, I swear I’m going to have a mental breakdown someday from being so aggravated with them.