I lost my job. I am unemployed and seeking in the current economic climate.
Allow me to explain. See, I resigned. And worked my notice. Stupid of me, I know. Careless to say the least. I called it quits, without having a backup plan.
I hoped to live on my savings for a few months and tackle all that I never had time for. And this newfound freedom is quite daunting, to say the least.
I was unhappy with my work. But, come on who isn’t? No excuse to quit, idiot, I say to myself.
I was so unhappy and unfulfilled to the point where I contemplated suicide too many times than is safe to say.
My job in hospitality drained the soul out of me and exhaustion was at the order of the day. Sometimes working every day for two months straight. I had no life whatsoever. Friends stopped inviting me out because they knew my reply: Tired, have to get to bed and repeat my day tomorrow.
I’m not a social butterfly, so that suited me well, but isolation crept in. On the odd day off I would hide indoors and only show my face to go grocery shopping or for a doctor’s visit. The visits became quite frequent as I didn’t care for my overall wellness.
Of course, this manifested and started to show in my health. Physically. Mentally and especially emotionally.
I quit because I had to, I was suffering to make a living. My family never saw me and some mentioned that they can hardly recognise me. The pieces I sent in for the JGF blog were written sometime whilst at work, at home way past midnight, or in the taxi on my way to work in the mornings. Suffering for your art at its best.
The past few days at home have seen me live in my pajamas, exhausted to lift myself out of bed.
Basically, what I am trying to say is I gave up my financial stability for my mental stability. My family doesn’t get this concept and I’m called lazy. Even though I worked twelve-hour shifts for most of the year. Almost every day. Dealing with at least six to eight different personalities a day. Managing an office and trying to breathe normally. Many times I caught myself with bated breath. Anxiety getting worse.
Yes, there are far more important work and workers keeping their lives and heads together, for far longer. But I am tired.
I don’t have the energy to eat or wash my face.
Right now, I am leaning on my left elbow typing this. I have pulled the curtains. I just need to think. Mother is not talking to me, because who is going to take care of the household?
I plea with all my fellow writers, when writing send out good energy to this ‘opinionated opinionator’.
For now, I’m still alive like the Pearl Jam track goes.
Peace out.
Picture: JGF news. Open door to perception.
Jodie Groener werk tans as ontvangsdame in Humansdorp, maar ’n ietwat “ambisieuse streep” maak dat sy nog die wêreld vol wil reis en baie wil skryf. Sy het in die Oos-Kaap grootgeword en was vir ’n rukkie ’n nuusleser op Kouga FM. Jodie skryf kortverhale en geniet dit ook om haar hand aan historiese fiksie en rubrieke te waag. In 2015 het sy nasionale kleure in die uitvoerende kunste verwerf en kort daarna het sy skerm as ’n sportsoort opgeneem. Ook hierin het sy tot op internasionale vlak uitgeblink en, hoewel sy dit vir ’n wyle moes staak as gevolg van befondsing, getuig haar prestasie van deursettingsvermoë in alles wat sy aanpak.
Jodie sê dat sy haar voorgeneem het om gemaklik te voel met wat ook al die uitkoms van haar aansoek vir die Kommadagga-slypskool sou wees. “Maar toe die tyd aanbreek dat die organiseerders moes besluit wie vanjaar gekies sou word, was ek ’n senu-bol.”
Sy glo dat die slypskool nie net haar skryfwerk na ’n volgende vlak gaan neem nie, maar dat dit ook haar denke oor skrywerskap gaan verruim. “Woorde kan nie beskryf hoeveel die geleentheid vir my beteken nie. Dit gee my geweldige hoop.”
