Waving through a window

Yes that's a wanky musical theatre title. What of it? 

This morning was a series of ups and downs. That seem to encapsulate life at the moment. 

Firstly a well meaning person sending me a link to an academic job sent me into a spiral of thinking how much I’d failed. No matter how much I make my peace with my ‘failed academic’ status, there’s still something in putting so much work into a direction, and failing so badly. No matter how much I don’t want that life, that I’m certain it’s not for me, I will always feel like I failed. Even if in failing I get something better, I’m a Doctor who isn’t ever going to be an academic. And in the eyes of many academics, and others that is a failure.

Well meaning job links are a tricky thing also. On one hand I’m SO grateful. Please nobody ever stop sending them because job hunting is a full time job and I will always miss some. But sometimes jobs fall at either end of the spectrum, that really make me sad. Those, like the academic ones that I have no hope of getting. And those that are so far removed from what I’ve tried to do it feels like the person is saying ‘Look love just give up and go and do this instead’. It’s tricky when such things are well-meaning, and I feel so ungrateful. But for the record I’d much rather get linked to the out of reach job because someone thinks I might have a shot, than get linked to a job that says ‘Hey come on it’s time to grow up and stop this nonsense’.

That was a pre-9am tailspin. It’s been a year since I had a month left in my last job and I had to start job hunting in earnest. And while I’ve been forced to hit pause the last few months for various reasons, it’s still exhausting. Losing that last job really hurt too. Being told I wasn’t being let go because of me, that the job simply didn’t exist anymore. Being told again and again that I was great and did nothing wrong…. only to see the job advertised 2 months later. That hurt. That broke me a bit. Not being let go, if I wasn’t good enough/the right fit etc that’s fine. It happens, I just would have liked some honest feedback, so I could learn, develop and not let down another employer.

After my morning tailspin, I answered a group of ‘real career’ emails. And on paper, objectively, those look pretty impressive. In a year I’ve made stuff happen, I’m doing stuff ‘putting myself out there’ as they say. And stuff is happening back. And I rarely let myself have a moment of ‘you did this’.

But it never feels enough. On one hand it’s that feeling of ‘it might all disappear at any moment’ and ‘this could be the only thing, it’ll never happen again. Then you’ll be back to nothing’ Instead of thinking ‘this is the start you can build on this’ instead my brain thinks ‘you won’t get anything else’.

The other side to this is thinking I’m not a part of my own, local arts community. It’s opening Facebook and seeing everyone in that ‘community’ liking posts and commenting. And feeling, to be a bit ‘Musical theatre’ like ‘Waving through a window’ I’m forever looking in and nobody will let me play. I’ve spent a long time trying to be a part of my community here, and I think I have to face facts that it’s never going to happen. I’m not sure what part of me doesn’t fit. I’m sad to have to leave. But I think I have to start making plans to.

I spent this morning working on creative stuff. Writing my play, my second draft that’s due in a few days. This is what I do the crappy day job for. This is what I’m struggling through this year for, the gamble that might pay off. That might let me take another step and another.

And then I mess about on the internet again. And I’m reminded of that person I trusted, who screwed me over really, really badly. And we’re back to ‘Waving through a window’ again. Back to ‘it’ll never work out’.

It’s all a back and forth.

Tomorrow I’m going to London for a meeting about a big, exciting theatre project I’m part of. I’ll get to wear my ‘professional’ hat. I’ll get to talk intelligently (hopefully) I’ll get to talk about things I love. I’ll get lunch (a minor, but important detail).

Then on Friday I’ll be back to my ‘day job’ where I have to call a bunch of people ‘Dr’ and none of them know I am too. Where rude rich people shout at me and call me stupid. And where I sweat my metaphoric balls of in a polyester uniform.

And then on Saturday I’ll write and write. And on Monday I’ll be unemployed for a week or more because zero hours contracts. But I’ll get to work on the ‘real work’ for a bit.

And so on and so on.  

Up and down and waving through a window is what it feels like.