I wasn’t going to write today. I was going to quit and pull the plug on this little blogging project of mine because I wasn’t really sure of its purpose. The idea of starting a blog wasn’t mine. It was the idea of one of my dearest friends. She encouraged me and gave me the strength to go for it. I still remember her positive words and the honesty in her eyes as she looked at me and said ‘You’re good Ani, you’re good! You just never know who you might reach. Learn as you go and you’ll see. Just do it. You have nothing to lose!’
Now that the blog is launched and being read, I realize that I’ve opened up my most vulnerable self for the world to see. Granted my world is small but still, I’m terrified and the temptation to quit is calling. I keep asking myself, ‘Why am I doing this? What’s the point? Does anyone care? Do I care if they care? Could this help someone? Is it helping me? Am I an idiot? Like seriously, WTF was I thinking?’ The last class I took in writing was in college over 10 years ago and I know nothing of it. For goodness sakes, I’m still learning how to spell. I know how things can end, as I’m no stranger to heartbreak. I’m just a small fish in a big pond and the chance of getting swallowed is high. It scares me and people are mean. The static noise of social media and judgement are my worst fears. Sure, they can build you up, but as easily, they can also tear you down and they do. It’s strange but I already feel the energy of the scrutinizing voices and I hate it. I need them to fuck off and just stop. I keep telling myself that I don’t care and I want to believe it but I’m not there yet. I’m too overwhelmed with these feelings of insecurity and self doubt and it’s clouding my mind. I feel sickened by it all.
Over the years, I’ve had all kinds of jobs. I quit them all. Except for the one where I got fired. To give you the ‘Coles Notes’ version, I was working in fundraising and went head-to-head with my boss. He was a jerk. I found out he was doing shady business and to make a long story short, he had me silenced. It worked out fine though because I was already job searching. Ready to quit. Another time, the Irish goodbye played a huge role when I used my lunch break to run out the back door, never to return again. I quit that salon job 20 minutes into the first hour I was there. I didn’t like the energy in the room - it wasn’t welcoming. When I got home, my mom just looked at me and said ‘you quit again?’ It’s like she knew.
My most favorite quit story starts and ends here. I don’t know what possessed me to apply for a property management job. I must have been desperate. If you ever want to see a bit of all walks of life from all corners of the world, under one roof, then high-rise apartment building management is for you. I never dreamt of meeting so many peeping Toms in one place. Perverts everywhere! With my manager at the time, we took care of 3 high-rise buildings in the Broadview and Danforth area. My job was to handle rent, complaints and deal with the ramifications of broken angry people. Its an ugly job and nobody should have to do it. I don’t advise it. I’m not sure why but one day some lady on the 18th floor bitched me out because it was too hot. Clearly not my fault. I couldn’t listen to her voice anymore. I tried to sympathize but she wouldn’t stop the aggression so I hung up on her. I grabbed my purse, looked at my manager and said, ‘later, I’m nobody’s door mat’. That was it, I just walked out and drove off never to return again.
Jobs are not the end of it though. I’ve quit a ton of hobbies, people, places and things. I just can’t see things through. I need to ask myself, with all this quitting experience why keep writing? For starters I like it and although it can be triggering at times, it’s therapeutic. In therapy they teach you that sharing and being vulnerable helps heal. So here I am, sharing. Here I can think, I can cry, I can laugh and I can feel all my emotions safely and here I’m at peace. A lightbulb went on today and I came to the conclusion that I’ve been running and quitting my whole life. It’s a pattern I know all too well and one that I want to break. I’ve been writing this blog since Wednesday, June 22 and today (July 10) it’s finally complete. Today the pattern was broken. Today I made it past the first hurdle and closed the doors on the static noise and all its levels of judgement. Today I didn’t quit.
(but I did quit quitting, for now…)
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