The problem that arises with the pop-psych emphasis on self-worth is that it ignores how incredibly dangerous it is to possess when you have no power.
I have teeth today. Proceed with caution.
I left a job abruptly again because it routinely demanded my attention off-the-clock and threatened consequence if I didn’t pay it. The fastest way to piss me off is to remove my agency, so I took it back. It was that or continue to serve coffee in a 100-square-foot box with management that takes feedback personally and contradicts itself constantly.
I did pick my battle there, actually. Even temporary tolerance comes at an absurd level of stress for me.
But that’s not the primary source of my fury this afternoon. It’s the fact that for two seasons now, every attempt to create a more stable life for myself has failed. When housing, finances, transportation, and social/familial support are all frail simultaneously, you are always running on almost zero margin. That has been my story since I left home. I have never not known that cycle.
It’s the outcome I predicted as a teenager, too. I knew once I was out of the home, I would have nothing but combustible material to my name and no sturdy fallback support. I ran down experiences I wanted to have anyway.
The bike is the only thing that has ever stuck. A decade of pursuits there is consistency that does not match anything else on my record (unless you count ripping bullshit to pieces). I am losing that right now. I am out of Mishigami. If I can’t find my feet, my crit return will be a fantasy too.
Right now, I am slowly being surrounded by people that realize I should not still be this low. I’ve known this for a long time, but have resisted owning it. External verification actually makes me even more frustrated about how I am always in the wrong place.
The sun is high. The days are the longest they’ll be this year. The atmosphere is begging for me to be let off this chain.
The neighbors are complaining I bark too much.
No shit.
I will the machine. 