Hey, all, long time reader, first time poster.
Not 100% if this belongs here, if not, feel free to delete/re-post elsewhere.
(TW: Mental Health/Suicide)
So after finally being diagnosed with bi-polar 2/major depressive disorder/etc back in 2019, I quit my toxic job and got medicated. I worked a bit after, Amazon Delivery for a month, door to door insurance salesman for a month, but since March of 2020, I was unemployed until just last month. I quit that job two days ago.
Despite the global pandemic, 2020 and 2021 were pretty decent years for me personally. I didn't have to work thanks to some savings, my mother and the unemployment coming in. Instead I worked on myself. I lost like 50 lbs, I stopped drinking booze (fell off the wagon for a bit, but I'm back on now!), I was going on walks, I started a youtube channel (which has made others smile/feel better during dark times, which is AMAZING), I was reading more, listening to different music, trying new hobbies, the whole thing.
Then the unemployment ran out. Savings ran out. Mom can only help so much. So, I took a job, less than 25 hrs a week, only 4 days a week, enjoyable work for the most part, no days starting before 8:15 am, so nothing ungodly early. A nice way to ease in I thought, get some money, try to find my way back into the job world. Because I know I have to. I HAVE to have a job.
Made it a month. Lovely people, small business, good pay, totally understanding, offered me $15 to start, with a raise to $16 or higher if I'd stuck around and done well. But I just couldn't do it. Part of it is other factors which fuck up my mental health. I just turned 33, which is a trigger for me to re-think all my past trauma and mistakes, a best friend lost his brother to suicide right before Christmas, etc. I was in a bad place anyway. But the job. God. So much anxiety. I spent Tuesday night pacing my apartment, thinking about suicide, having a terrible episode of anxiety/disassociation for HOURS. Luckily, since I fight started having these episodes (first one was at work years ago, didn't know what it was, lasted for days, absolutely terrifying) I know what they are, so while I can't stop them (which is frustrating) they are less scary and I know I just have to deal with them.
I turned 33 during that mental health attack. I didn't drink (coming up on 200 days sober). I didn't hurt myself. I didn't break shit in my apartment.
I did quit my job. And I know it was the right choice for me. Anyway, just wanted to share. Thanks if you read this far (or, “I'm sorry if you read this far” if that's more applicable). I WANT to be a member of society and I understand that people need to work (sorta…I kinda think money is some nonsense we all made up and that jobs are a filthy fucking lie) but I also know that if I do, there's a chance I have a massive panic attack while driving home and crash my car off a fucking bridge.
I HATE that I have to work in order to live. I HATE that the things I love doing haven't been successful (writing/movies/etc) enough for me to make money off of them, which means that they are basically useless wastes of my time. I HATE that a youtube video with a comment saying “I went to bed smiling tonight” or “thank you, I needed this” has less value to me and the world than some wage slave thankless customer service job where I'm verbally abused all day. And, I HATE that my brain apparently breaks down when I have a job, even a mellow one that I kinda like.
Happy Birthday to me.
TL;DR: 2 years of no work helped me be a better human in almost every way. 1 month of working lead to a night of panic/anxiety and suicidal thoughts. I hate everything.