Massive panic attack this morning. No work. Lost money. Blah.
My therapist and I got to dive into my history surrounding my career tonight. It's interesting to see my choices from another's perspective. I gave up my dream career for the dream family. Although I'd never trade back, sometimes the thought of going to work to do what I've always wanted seems like a great dream. And the loss of that dream hurts. Again, I'd make the same choices again, but that doesn't mean I can't be sad that I lost something so special to me. At least it's revealed to me that maybe what I'm doing isn't right for me. Either the environment isn't right, or the pay isn't. This year, it's been both.
I did some major emotional backsliding over the past 24 hours. I can't seem to shake 30+ years of training. I know it's difficult enought just to recognize that and I should probably pat myself on the back for that but it's going to take a lot of work to get out of this rut. Sometimes I think of all of the people in the world with no food, home, or family, and then I feel completely ashamed that I'm so miserable with those three blessings. Does that mean I shouldn't complain? Is it so bad to want a job that doesn't make me physically and mentally sick? I don't know.
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