i guess my problem is, i thought i would give a damn.
instead, i am not doing all the necessary steps to pursue my dreams.
did i lose my drive when i was idle for an entire year in cambridge? why wasn’t i the me when i took 21 full course load and still do a 20-hour part time job?
how can i give meaning to the thing i do now.
and in this job, i’m really tired is never a reason nor explanation; sleeping one or two few hours more is a sin and crime, something to be ashamed of, although it is quite impossible to trick your body to feel otherwise
it means nothing to no one, and protesting that you are tired simply means you are weak, even worst, irresponsible.
and making a mistake means you are a terrible person, worthless as crap.
I don’t think any job should make one feel like this, but quoting one of the most used cliché in banking: it is what it is.
days when even white flag is impossible
trapped in a nightmare where you can’t wake up - and when nightmare is reality
when there is no stop button
when you feel so alive but dead inside - - and to borrow Sylvia Plath’s words:
But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defenseless that I couldn’t do it. It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn’t in that skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, and a whole lot harder to get