There is something exciting about starting a new job, and also something dreadful. The brain can crave novelty, but the brain can also crave familiarity; it is up to us to feel out which one our brain is craving in any given moment, or which one demands greater attention to satisfy. Tomorrow begins my final day of training on the new job, and I am both eager and nervous about the potential results; will I pass my training exam? Will I need to crawl back to my old job, begging for another chance? Do I actually have what it takes to succeed in this new field? A million questions ricochet around my cranium, a clear and concise answer to be found nowhere. I hope I haven’t made a mistake I will come to dread, and I can’t help but ruminate on the mixed messages my body and mind are sending me. This is what happens when you spend an entire lifetime explicitly told to not trust your gut instinct; to be taught to ignore your natural impulses, suppress your urges, and follow the guidance of those well-meaning or otherwise authorities at the expense of your own intuition and peace.
I talk myself down with both logic and emotion. Logically, I am not tied to this job like a serf to the land in medieval ages; I can quit at any time. There is a learning curve to be expected, my trainer has reiterated multiple times now; I should not expect myself to be perfect or even close to it less than half a month into the work. Emotionally, the more distance I put between me and my old job, the less animosity I feel towards a return; maybe I just needed a break. It is okay to be ambitious and want to perform my best, but also understand that my best will be different day to day. So much of this job might be in my control, but so much is also out of it. I need grit and resilience to make it on top (or out alive) and surviving with my brain in this chaotic world means I’m made of nothing but the aforementioned.
But frenetic emotions know no logic, and the logic of doom and what-ifs is blind and deaf to any rational mental state. I feel the fear of failure gripping my throat and starving me of oxygen; I feel the anxiety of the unknown drown me in its quicksand; I feel my tumbling through the pit-shaped depression of self-esteem scrape and bounce me every which way until I’m free falling into oblivion. I cling to my past in a desperate bid to save myself, but I know this is futile. Past me saved my life, yes, but also paved the way for future me to thrive onward and leave that wretched misery behind. I owe it to past me to not turn around, lest I risk a regression like Eurydice’s yanking back to the underworld for Orpheus’ lack of trust. I need to trust. Trust the process. Trust myself. Trust that I’ve made the right decision for myself, and trust that I can make more right decisions if this does not turn out the way I hoped. For in this life, there are no true errors or mistakes if a valuable lesson is learned.
I think my lesson to learn right now is to trust myself regardless of the outcome.
For more personal reflections, click here
Leave a Reply