I’m 31 years old. I quit my job because I was being treated like dog shit and it wasn’t paying the bills anyway. Such has been the case at the last 3 jobs. Everything from being written up for having to quarantine, to being screamed at for someone else’s mistake, to having payroll add unpaid lunch breaks that I wasn’t taking… I’m done. Im done begging for basic human decency from employers. I’m done devoting 40 hours a week to companies and still stressing because I can barely make rent every month even though it’s split 3 ways. I’m in the process of moving back in with family and I have no intention of continuing to work, other than doordash. Because what is the f-ing point.
Am I the only one who’s come to the soul crushing realization that even my smallest dreams in life are completely out of reach? Like living alone. Having a space that’s completely mine. That’s what my hopes and dreams have been whittled down to. And even thats become unattainable.
The dream used to be buying myself a decent house with room for a garden, decorating the house to my liking, being able to travel occasionally, maybe getting a dog, maybe sharing that dream with someone if I happened to meet the right person. In hindsight, it was a pretty simple dream. I wasn’t asking for much.
Over the last few years, as things have steadily gone downhill for working class Americans, I’ve been forced to shed pieces of that dream, and my last shreds of hope along with them. The last piece of hope that I held onto was that someday, I’d get to live alone. That someday, I wouldn’t have to share a tiny, one bathroom apartment with at least 2 other people. I no longer cared if I got to live alone in a home that I owned and furnished. I became content with the idea of living alone in a shitty apartment in a bad neighborhood, filled with hand me down furniture.
I held onto that diluted dream until I couldn’t anymore. Until I realized that even if I worked 2 full time jobs, I wouldn’t be able to afford a damn shoebox by myself.
So, I give up. I’m burnt out. I can’t spin my wheels anymore. Im going to work as needed. On my own time, on my own schedule. I’m going to read as much as I want, and sit in the sun, and go swimming, and plant flowers. I’m going to try my best to let go of the shame of living with my family at the age of 31. I’m going to try my best to let go of the shame of having nothing to show for the last 16 years I’ve spent in the workforce. I’m going to breathe, and try to remember what it feels like to enjoy my life. And I’m going to remind myself how lucky I am that I even had the option of moving back in with my family, because I know so many people who have no choice but to just keep trucking through this mess that is capitalism.
I hope someday we’re able to create a world where a person can work hard and have something to show for it besides a broken body and smothered dreams. But until someone comes up with a tangible way to change the sad state of affairs in this country, I’m out.