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hi everyone, long time no post.
i’m in the middle of a crisis and would like some help. The whole story goes like this, my life has been pretty much autopilot since I was a kid [my parents went through a nasty divorce and as the oldest I was told I had to step up and take care of everyone] as a kid I would change what I wanted to be every week, one day I was talking about trying to be a farmer because I loved Babe and I wanted to live on that farm, and my mom said ‘farmings hard. You’re good a cooking, be a chef.’ So I did. [hate working in kitchens] I went to college because my friends told me I had to [didn’t hate it, but it was pretty much lonely high school for me] eventually I quit working in kitchens and tried sales, and hated it [only job I was fired from, and it was due to my low sales] now I’ve been working as a barista for 5 years, don’t hate it, but I don’t love it as I discovered.
what I love is making the drinks and the people I work with. What I don’t like is dealing with the customers [being forced to put on an act essentially so they engage with me as I make their drink] I’m fine with some regulars and I’m the one to answer the phone because I have this phone voice that pulls of friendly and nice but I don’t have to look at you.
Wednesday night one of my coworker died. We’re all taking it hard because we really try to make work our second home, we hang out after work, and walk home together a lot since we all live in the same 3 buildings. I’ve been going through a lot of emotions, but what upsets me is he was that person who was always positive [which I want to be] he was always happy, friendly, making people smile, he would always light up the room. He also knew what he wanted to do, music. But I don’t know. He lived his life like a crazy party and he just knew he wanted to create music. And now he’s gone and I’m left wonder what do I want to do? He was 15 months younger than me and his life had a direction. He had extreme anxiety most of his life and problems just like the rest of us but it didn’t stop him, and I want that, but I feel like it’s something I can’t do. I try being happy-go-lucky like him and one stumble I’m reminded by someone of what a negative person I am and I go into my ‘it’s not my fault I have depression’ bubble and start to spiral. [kind of like right now lol]
anyway, I don’t know what I should be, a job that makes me want to get up and run there to do my work, not run to a place I think is alright, but I’m working with these people so we can joke around later [don’t get me wrong co-workers make the place, but I realized over the past few days the job isn’t what makes me happy. It pays the bills and doesn’t get on my nerves as much as other places. It would be perfect if not for the customers really, I don’t really like dealing with the public unless on the phone because I can act like I care]
theres also this part of me that thinks I should try writing again because my coworker found out I gave up on my writing and art and always insisted I got back into it for a creative outlet because I’m so imaginative. But I tried getting published when I was younger. This girl [we hated each other tbh] was bragging how easy it was for her to get her short story published in this literary magazine so I tried. I tried a lot. I have a folder full of hand written rejection letters from literary magazines and I gave up because I realized it’s easy for her because she’s good and I’m not. About 5 years ago my moms computer crashed and I lost 75% of my stories so I decided it was a sign I should stop trying.
sorry for the long, melancholy post. That’s just where I’m at right now. Wondering why I’m not optimistic, why someone so amazing died, what am I doing with my life, and what should I be doing with my life. If anyone has any advice to help me figure things out I would really appreciate it. Thanks.
thanks. He died of an overdose. Of what I’m not too sure, but I know he did acid and my coworkers worry he relapsed and started doing coke again. I know the whole ‘hiding your pain behind a smile’ but he wasn’t like that, he really was a beautiful person. He would come to us when he had a problem, it was just an accident which is what makes it so hard for us.
im an introvert and shy, so it’s hard to strike up conversations, but it’s having to smile and nod while someone calls you an idiot for making a cappuccino with foam when they don’t like foam, or being told you don’t have a real job, or when I am in a great mood and I try to connect and people just look at their phone and ignore me. and I know it’s just ‘there’s jerks everywhere’ but a good portion of my success [to the district manager] is my ability to engage and have meaningful conversations and I’m a failure if the person is more interested in their phone then the barista trying to talk to them. We’re always expected to be ‘on’ so if I was waiting in line to buy a cookie or whatever, people come up and start asking me questions, or if I’m sitting eating my lunch again, ‘how much is this item?’ So I hide in the back and if I say ‘so this customer was annoying’ I get my manager, or assistant manager [two very positive people] question why I have to be so gloomy. Trust me, it’s a lot better than my last place, but my only stumbling block is the customers. I’m not friendly enough according to corporate which discourages me, especially when I would see him joking and laughing like the customer was an old friend and I just don’t know why I can’t be like that too.
regarding my writing, it’s all over the place. A lot of emo teen poetry, some short stories that ended in tragedy, some murder mysteries, one fantasy novel, and a bad romance. I was thinking about trying my hand at nonfiction because it’s not the fame of ‘oh it’s Nekoshema the author of x, y, z’ I just enjoy writing and would like to make money doing it so I could be a barista or whatever, but not as a ‘it’s all I’m good at’ but more of a ‘barista as a hobby’ because I enjoy all the barista stuff, just not the social aspect.
one of the last things I wrote was a poem series inspired by books I was reading at the time, the best one in my opinion was the one based of Silvia Plaths The Bell Jar
Avocados and Caviar
The feeling of nothingness
Deep – useless – bleak
Occasional twinge of melancholy
But always this suffocating doubt
Those distant days
Of avocados and caviar
Seem lost – locked away
Or captured – in a picture – beneath a bell jar
Do I love you?
Simple yearning for more?
Did I ever love you?
Rebel
Trapped in hell
Crushing intense pain
Let it die
Let the sea come in and take me
And let me dieIts not perfect and it’s probably still sad teen phase but that’s probably the last thing I wrote before I gave up.
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