give me my passion back
i used to write a lot more. i used to have some passion – even if i was being a little bitch or a demanding prick. most of what i wrote went into emails to family, friends, and lovers, and though they often had undercurrents of loneliness or heartache or disappointment, i still felt, i still lived.
around six years ago is when i stopped. when i got my first real corporate job in australia. i should’ve known from the first day it was the wrong move. every other job, i’d log in and check the budget first thing. this one didn’t even set me up on the system for three days.
i literally sat there, considering the wall of what used to be a storage room. i threw out the clock.
not long after, i had a breakdown. i was crying in my office, middle of the morning – i hadn’t cried in years. i called a psychologist and booked an appointment for the next day.
being a prick had led me to the breakdown, but right now, in writing this, i also realize: i didn’t deserve the way i was treated. honestly, it burnt me out, and i didn’t understand that until toward the end of writing this sentence.
i want my passion back. i want to be passionate with people.