The last month and a half or so have been surprisingly good. I mentioned some time ago that I’m doing okay emotionally speaking. It’s weird for me. I’m used to being dissatisfied and unhappy about the way things are. I’m used to this underlying current of…. well… depression. That’s what it is, so why am I looking for another word to convey it?
I am, by no means, implying that I’m “cured”, and I am afraid that it’s not going to last, but, something has changed. Things are different now. I’m not quite sure what did it. Maybe it’s not having the secret of my sexuality hanging over my head. Maybe it’s the fact that I finished my book and I’m taking the next steps in that process. Maybe it’s just that 36 1/2 years was long enough and those depressive neural pathways have shorted out. Somehow I doubt that it’s that last one.
Admittedly, it was easier to feel good about life when I was on vacation and therefore could sleep late and do whatever I wanted with my day while still having the guarantee of a pay check every other Friday. Now I’m back at work and really nothing has changed about work. I’m finding it really hard to go there. Not because I’m dreading going to work specifically, just because it’s really hard to get up and get moving in the mornings. And my brain seems to want to believe that I’m still on vacation even though I know it’s not true. I’ve been staying up way too late, which makes getting up early for work very difficult. I’ve got to change that behavior, post-haste.
That is not to say that I don’t dread coming to work… Or more specifically, it’s not to say that I look forward to coming to work. But I’ve really begun to see what an easy gig I’ve got, and how little is required of me for the money I make. In that respect, at least, I’m really, very lucky.
As I mentioned before, I’m very much aware of how little value I add to the operation around the office and knowing that leaves me unfulfilled. I want to do a job that I feel like matters and/or that leaves me fulfilled with the outcome. It seems like that would be one and the same, but I’m not sure.
I’ve been dragging my feet a bit on the EMT thing and if most people asked me why, I would tell them it’s because there aren’t really any jobs to be had, and that’s true. And I’d tell them that I haven’t figured out a way to do that job and still make a living wage, and that’s also true… though my definition of “a living wage” may or may not be accurate in most peoples eyes.
The reality is, though, I’m scared. I’m scared of taking a huge risk and finding out that I’m not happy doing that job. I’m scared of finding that I’m not really very good at it. I’m questioning whether it’s really right for me. And I don’t know if that questioning is because my spirit is trying to tell me something my brain doesn’t want to know, or if that questioning is my fear trying to hold me back. We’ve all heard the old saying, “…those who can’t, teach.” What if that’s all I am is a teacher? (And before anyone says it, I can’t be a teacher either, not before I have some practical experience to fall back on.)
So it’s true that I’m dragging my feet for practical concerns but that’s not the only reason. Still, I put a lot of effort and energy into that training and there’s a part of me that feels like to give up on it would be wasting something valuable. What I’ve been thinking about for the last several months, though, is that I can’t make enough money to support my current lifestyle working full-time as an EMT. And then I realized, I’ve fallen back into an all-or-nothing way of thinking. IF I can find a part-time job as an EMT, I have the option to go part-time in my current job as well. I’d still take a cut in pay, but not nearly as much.
A recent comment on my blog reminded me of something that, oddly enough, I’ve forgotten: I love to write and would really like to get paid to do it. Actually, for some reason it seems important to make the distinction that, more so than wanting to be paid to write, I want to be paid for my writing. I see a difference between the two and for me that difference is this: when a person get’s paid to write, they are compensated for the act of writing. When a person is paid for their writing someone has purchased the words, placed value on the information or opinion or story that is created and ideally it’s a residual income for the product rather than a one time check for your time. I suppose I’m splitting hairs and I certainly wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to be paid to write, but I’d really like to be paid for my writing.
Yesterday, I discussed my position with Deb: Ten years in a job I don’t love with no idea of where to go from here, but knowing there will be no more advancement in my current position. A desire to make use of my training. A desire to write for profit. We talked about figuring out what it is I want to do and then how to pursue it. I told her, “That’s kind of my problem. I want three things: 1) to make use of my EMT Training, 2) to write and 3) to make at least $XX,XXX a year.” (Obviously, those X’s were real numbers, but I’m wondering if it’s tacky to talk dollar amounts here…)
Deb said, “But don’t you make pretty close to $XX,XXX already?”
“Including my bonus, I made $XX,XXX and change last year,” I told her. (those first two X’s were the same numbers in all three instances.)
She said, “Okay! So you’ve already achieved one of those things.”
Part of what I’ve been struggling with is the money. I think we know by now that I grew up in a poor family and I suffered a lot of lack. The pain of that manifest itself in my own relationship with money and how I handled it when I started earning my own. It took me a long time to understand that and learn to be more responsible, and I would by no means say that I’ve learned everything I need to in that regard but for the first time I feel financially secure. I make a nice income and can afford all my bills. Recently, I’ve even been able to afford a little bit of a social life, though admittedly that’s due, at least in part, to the insurance reimbursement for my therapy bills. Still, I’m understandably hesitant to make a change that will reduce my income.
So it’s difficult for me to not see things in a limited capacity. Either I accept that what I have here and now is the only way for me to make a livable income and I stay here for thirteen more years (the company has some odd equation having to do with your age and the number of years of service for when you can retire with benefits), or I quit and pursue some of my other interests which will, at least in the short-term, leave me extremely lacking. It might be noble to “do what you love, even for less money”, but for me, the money is part of the equation. If I’m not making a satisfactory income, I doubt that I’ll be happy doing what I’m doing… I know that’s not all there is, it’s just that, for now, I can’t see anything else.
Deb said, “You’ve already accomplished one of those things. You already make $XX,XXX a year.”
I told her, “Yes, but I didn’t say I want to work as an EMT, get paid to write OR make $XX,XXX. I said I want to work as an EMT, get paid to write AND make $XX,XXX, or more. The problem is, I haven’t figure out a way to make those three things happen.”
There was a brief pause and just as Deb opened her mouth to say something, I said, “And yes, I realized the end of all of those sentences is, ‘At least not yet.'”