Reluctant post
1, 8, 2, 8,
11, 90 – the number of days between each blog post since I first attempted to
start writing again on 30th March. How did I start so well and then
lose focus so quickly? Funnily enough I had thought I started writing for me
and me alone so when just before my last post, I found out someone was actually
reading these ramblings, I slightly freaked out. Someone I respected was
actually bothering to read my posts? Someone cared enough about my conscious
thoughts to take time to read this thing? Clearly that knowledge had an impact
on my and days turned into weeks, turned into months and here I am 90 days
later wondering what the point of doing this was again. Trying to write
something coherent when my flow of thoughts is so incoherent. Not knowing
whether it’ll help me, whether there’s any point and there’s a lot on my mind
right now.
For want of
a better description of the situation, let’s just say I have been having a bit
of an existential crisis in recent weeks. In the intervening months a lot has
happened, the government triggered Article 50 and are currently in talks with
the EU over Brexit. To say they are not going well is an understatement. he
hugely unexpected swing in the general election significantly reduced the
‘strong and stable’ position our conservative PM had hoped for, further
devastating terrorist attacks have taken place in London and a fire in a tower
block in London has claimed the lives of many in the richest borough in the
nation. I heard yesterday that the five richest families in this country own
more wealth than the poorest 20% of the nation – it’s a statistic that is hard
to swallow and I haven’t fact-checked it but regardless of it’s accuracy we
know we live in a divided nation.
So my
‘crisis’ has to do with purpose, vision, future direction, all the usual stuff
the average millennial struggles with. I guess for various reasons, I have just
found myself staring at potentially 35 years of service in the public sector
and wondering if that’s what I actually want from my life. I’ve found myself
wondering if 15+ years of hard work to get myself into the position I am in has
been worth it. I know this is in the
context of a four year cap on wages, a diminishing health service from a
workforce perspective and the threat of Brexit on that being unknown but it is
still a heavy question in my mind and it’s a challenge to bypass it and focus
on what I need to do now when it is so present in my mind. When you have to pay
the bills and do all the other stuff just to get through the day however, it
doesn’t leave you much space to think about whether or not this is what you
really want, not for me anyway so I just keep walking around feeling like this
cloud of doubt and uncertainty is following me around and the dissatisfaction
of a future that looks so grim at times to be frank, stares me down with little
silver linings to see from where I am standing. The obvious way to remedy this
way is to sign up to a conference I can’t afford and get some fresh vision from
people who are feeling inspired about the future in this sector but isn’t that
just a bandaid fix? Won’t I be feeling this way a few weeks later? The other
short-term aid is a holiday and well I’ve just got back from one of those.
Didn’t do me any good either, feel worse than I did before I left. Not sure
quite what’s left now so I’m writing about it; writing about my lack of
direction and focus, navel-gazing. I’m not sure right now that it is going to
lead me to a better place either. Perhaps I should phone my dad. He might have
something good to say.
Comments