Photo: Jacqueline Filmore
Crazy times… I’ve been waiting to write this blog post because it’s not an easy one. I wanted to wait for March to end because with it, my job is cancelled. I’m jobless, yet again. But how ironic is it that right now, it feels like the whole world is going kinda crazy. Some of us are able to work from home, others were dismissed because of that virus, others are now more important than ever and are working so much in order to keep us safe. And now I’m in a position like many of us, but not because of a weird virus that’s trying to kill mankind. It’s weird to write about this because these pandemics are somehow movie-like. We watch apocalypse movies and series, know everything about how to kill zombies (aim for the head!), feel prepared for something like “the end of the world”, and then there it is: a worldwide quarantine. We’re all stuck at home. No more social interactions. Restaurants and stores closing, people losing their jobs, fearing their existences, we’re not allowed to meet friends anymore, and yet the sun is shining as if we’re starting into a global summer holiday. And then there’s me, in the middle of this mess, feeling kinda helpless and useless and little – again.
Struggles. Today’s blog post title and this funny looking word is kinda what describes my whole life in the past three years. I’ve been fighting and fighting, failing, falling, standing up again and continuing my fights. I’ve been dismissed in such a disgusting way, won’t talk about it, but let me say: it was unfair. It was not okay how people treated me. It was humiliating. And it hurt so much because looking back at the past three years, I’ve been proceeding, going back, having little victories, major losses, the full program. I’ve been through it all and I had just felt safe for the first time, having a job, a new home, the money to pay for a decent life. I’ve still never given up because I felt like the fight is worth it in the end. People left me. My best friend couldn’t stand me anymore, telling me I’m too self-centered and negative. I couldn’t understand how the person who’s been with you through so much and who really knew me could simply leave me, knowing how I feel. Then again: even my ex-husband left me in the most disgusting way ever and knew how broken I was, thanks to depression and anxiety. People seem to have no problems with leaving me when I need them the most. But they also don’t even care, obviously, they don’t even want to know about me and what’s going on. The same seems to happen with jobs. The only constants in my life are my parents, supporting me whenever and wherever they can. Always offering me to help if they’re able to and I am more than thankful for these two. They’re my life.
But to be honest: I’m sick of fighting. I know I can do a lot, I know I’ve learned so much in the past years, I’ve grown, I’ve been through many experiences that others go through in many years – I did it in only three. I’ve never given up and I don’t wanna give up. I’m just tired. Just because you know you can, does it really mean that you have to? All the time? I guess so. But what happens, when you’re just not able to anymore? Life goes on. And it’s scary. Life has a weird way to kick you in the stomach over and over again but at the same time ask you to go on as if nothing happened. Sometimes I wonder if this all will end and everything will be okay. It doesn’t feel so. But I feel like it has to. This all can’t be for nothing. I don’t want the past years to just be another failed try. I want them to be worth it. I want to be able to look back and say: “It was hard. I cried. I fought so much. I was just about to give up and then it finally happened – everything made sense. It wasn’t for nothing.“