So I promised a productivity app – shout out to Habitica – a few days ago that I would write in my blog every day.
Obviously, it hasn’t worked out so far.
For the past few days, I’ve been trying to think up of a topic to write about, but there hasn’t been much. I want the stuff I write about to be something thoughtful, something that I can look back on months from now and know that I mentally or emotionally grew from it. But there hasn’t been anything substantial in my life recently that warrants a blog.
I suppose that’s not necessarily a good thing. I do want to eventually dive deeper into my anxiety and fears for the next few years, but I’m not sure how to start. I mean, I started a bit in my last blog, where I listed out all the research that backed up a trend of this happening among all millennials, but I’m not sure how to verbalize it – or rather, articulate it from my mind and my heart into words on a blog.
These feelings are taking up the biggest real estate in my everyday thoughts these days because I’ve felt a gradual loss of ambition since the beginning of the pandemic. Ever since settling for a part-time job at Walmart to help curb the flow of my finances. Because where do you go from here?
Where do you go from working as a sales associate at Walmart back to full-time employment at an office environment? Back to a career that you want? I don’t even have the money to go back to school. I don’t have the money to invest in myself. There’s only so much I can do. I tried last year when competition wasn’t so stiff, and it was an utter failure.
I don’t want to say it. I don’t want to say the words, “I am an utter failure,” because that’s something what my sperm donor would say. But those words have been existing in my subconscious for a while now. For the past year, maybe.
I don’t know where to go from here. I don’t think I lack direction per se because I know there are a couple of courses I can complete right now that can direct me a bit better. But what then? How much can I trust in that process when processes have been shot to hell since the beginning of this pandemic?
I am not sure how much longer the government’s emergency funds can save my future. But I am also not sure if there is a future left for me. So much of my identity resides in my career and where I am in it. This hasn’t existed for over a year now. It’s like a part of me is just gone and I don’t know how to get it back.