June's Friday Commute

I hoped UK Garage blaring through my 'phones would obliterate the negative diatribe playing repeat on my already fragile, crumbling sense of self. Navigating on autopilot through the green leafy suburbs of Shirley, I asked the universe for inspiration, strength and guidance. I even asked one of my best friends to loan me some as I desperately cling onto my existence. Fighting hard to engage muscles to pull my heavy, weary body out of bed. Sending all available electrical currents to ignite my frontal cortex to spark rational decisions. Tired that I've been speaking to the most important people in my life and I can now sense how tired they are, of me being tired. I don't want to complain, but this is my reality. What methods do I employ to cope? Adopting a day by day attitude is not working. Keeping busy and engaging in menial tasks is not enough. Having a laugh with staff members about innocuous details to pass time is wearing thin. Voicing my concerns diplomatically (because let's face it, I have bills to pay), isn't working. Not having a soul at work to confide in, to make my day just that little bit easier, doesn't exist. Me against 200 plus employees. Taking regular reprieves to make it through the hour. Repeating mantras just to get to lunch looking forward to Netflix uninterrupted. The hour goes too quick, I haven't had enough time to replenish my reserves to get through the rest of my shift.

I guess I quit, right? That's 10 weeks before I can even leave. The job market isn't so forgiving that I'd even find work within ten weeks. Nothing makes sense. My focus is smeared with, thick, viscous Vaseline. No matter how many clean towels I use, my lens is still smudged. I'm failing. By my standards, this isn't how anyone should live. Spending time in a place that is destroying them faster than they can rebuild. I feel crazy, because seemingly I appear to be the only one that knows it's raining, when the general narrative is, it's sunny rays, 26 degrees.

I'm starting to buy silly material things to cling on to ounces of happiness. A fiend for the next fix, It's never enough. I need to dose up, tapping my veins rigorously, knowing they have reached their capacity. They can't give me what I need, nor at the rate I want. At some point, I'm going to put myself in the red. And for what? The sake of my mental health immediately? Adding further stress down the line when I have to deal with mounting debt I've piled. Thankfully I have a hold on my spending. One focus on my life keeps that in check. I need to move house and that can't happen with debt.

Urgh. What do I do now?

No seriously, what do I do now?