(I Am Not) What I Am

Don't let me get too deep

I quit my job a little over a month ago—with no backup, no real plan, a healthy amount of debt, and no savings to speak of. I was also diagnosed with stage 3 ovarian cancer last summer. While I’m currently disease-free, the health insurance from said job is fairly vital. I’ve been the poster woman for responsibility most of my life, so how did I get to this place, you ask? That’s a question I ask myself—rest assured—nearly every day.

Facing your mortality will have you asking a lot of questions. And while I sat at a job that stressed me to the point of anger, frustration, confusion, and literal pain, the biggest question of all was: Is it worth it? If I only get another year, is this how I want to spend it? We are all on borrowed time, so why do any of us have to suffer through the slog of soul-sucking jobs and people who work hard to break us down? I’ll get many answers to that question, but none of them work for me anymore. There just isn’t a good enough excuse to live in misery.

And while I should have found a backup, I really felt like I needed time—time so I wouldn’t make the same mistakes. Time to live. Time to figure out how to make myself happy. Time that none of us know we really have. So how do I make this time count?

This blog was supposed to be the start of something new—a gateway to being the writer I’ve always wanted to be. In the month since I started my journey of unemployment, I’ve worked on it maybe four out of thirty-some-odd days. And on those days, I didn’t write as much as I worried about the aesthetic of the site, changing the font and pictures about 26 times or so. I won’t speak to the rest of the days I’ve supposedly had the world at my feet, except to say I have downloaded every “take the screw out of the thing” or “park the car” game the App Store has to offer. My critical thinking skills are better for it—so I tell myself. I’ve also spent more money than I did when I had a job, because of course I would. You have to spend money to make money, amiright? I'm sure the Singles Swag subscription box will come in handy when my influencing gig gets off the ground.

I have free time for the first time in a very long time in my adult life. It’s easy to sit behind a desk and complain about your life, to claim there’s so much you could do if only you didn’t have the annoyance of a job holding you back. But bitching about your life in the comfort of a job—even if you don’t want it—is easy. The hard part is taking a risk and putting yourself out there.

And that right there has always been my issue: fear. Genuine, teeth-chattering fear that I won’t be good enough, that I’ll fail, that everyone will hate what I do—or worse, ignore it altogether. The alternative is doing nothing, saying nothing, being nothing. And I don’t think I have time for “nothing” at this point. And I think the statute of limitations on caring what other people think expires after 40, no? Well, it should.

So with this first entry, I ask: will it be worth it? Who knows. But I need to be willing to find out. Life is short—and with the current state of the world, it feels like it’s getting shorter and narrower every day. So I write. It will probably be complete crap, but it will be my crap (even if AI would like to be the devil on my shoulder).

If you’re wondering about the title of this entry—or the entire blog—look no further than the ill-begotten tattoo on my arm (see above for photo proof). A quote from Othello, which I’ve never actually read. I don’t particularly love it, so it now serves as a reminder: say no to the things I don’t want, take ownership of my decisions, and never get tattoos while stressed and emotional (like, you know, the day your divorce is getting finalized).

I don’t know what I am and may never fully understand it—ideally because I’m learning and evolving beyond being just one thing. What I do know is that I don’t want to remain who I’ve been (or currently am). So let’s consider this the beginning of a new journey. Hopefully, I’ll see it through. Commitment is a challenge for me... File that one with my other issues and I'd say that is what is called blog-security.