I got an email from my boss today, which punctured the tenuous joy of my vacation and sent me spiraling downward. I’ve been holding onto the edge of okayness for a while, and in the 30 seconds it took me to read her email, I lost my grip altogether. It wasn’t actually anything she said that broke my grasp, the contents of the email addressed something I may have not followed through with to the degree that was necessary, but that doesn’t really matter. It was just another reminder of how mismatched I am with my job, and my feeling of sadness at not knowing how to change it.
I sat on the couch in parents’ family room for about an hour, sobbing, while my mom sat next to me, not knowing what to do besides hand me kleenex and watch my mascara stream down my cheeks. In the moments between gasping breaths, I managed to hiccup out a few words. I told her how sad I feel being me. How I feel like I will never be able to do the job I’m employed to do very well, because at heart I am not a perfectionist, and my job really requires one. How I feel like there is nothing in the world that I am good at. That even in the moments when I remember how much I like writing, how much joy I feel at creating a good sentence that can tell a story and make someone feel transported, I am also defeated by the difficulty of it and the near-impossibility of finding success at it.
Right now I feel broken and unhappy. I don’t know how to get out from underneath this. I haven’t cried like this in years, and the tears are still close.