A Generational Problem
I had one of those mornings. One of ten thousand throughout my life. I wanted to give up. Not just on photography or writing. Life. Just become one of those people who starts slowly destroying themselves until the worst happens.
Four hours later, I still feel it. In my chest. On my shoulders. A weight. A dark shadow covering me.
“Whats the point?”
“Give up.”
“You’re worthless.”
The voice is always the same. The voice is mine.
It’s hard to argue when the world seems to constantly agree.
Sure, I’ve done some impressive things here and there. Accomplished some of my life’s goals. But there’s a glass ceiling and I feel it every time I reach for the sky.
Any time I think of applying for a better job, the voice tells me I’m an idiot. There’s no way I could get that job and if I did, I’d be fired soon after.
A friends of mine suggested that might just be attitudes learned from our parents’ generation.
There is some truth to that.
The generation before us were brought to heel by elites. They were taught that hard work and experience were no longer acceptable currency in the job market. True success came from inborn advantages. And the level of success attainable depended on how much you spent on university.
Sure there was some room for advancement. Lower class could become middle class, but don’t you dare dream higher. Know your place.
It was all utter nonsense, of course, but people bought into it. Many still do.
Had my father been an ambitious man, he’d have been an engineer. I know it as gospel. It’s how his brain works, taking things apart and putting them back together in his mind.
Unfortunately he never had much in the way of dreams. it’s not how he’s wired.
My mother is smart and as hard a worker as you’ve ever met. But she’s spent her life accepting that she’s not meant for more than she’s attained and she was trained to be grateful for the crumbs she was given by people less deserving but higher stationed. Why? Is it because they’re smarter, harder working or just better than her?
No. Fuck no. No to all of it.
It’s because, whether they were too arrogant or too stupid, they could never perceive the invisible scaffolding of their cages.
If it sounds like I’m judging my mother and father, I assure you, I am
Not. I couldn’t have achieved my meager accomplishments without them. And I feel the cage as well.
The difference is that I refuse to sit quietly in my prison.
And maybe that’s a generational problem as well. We grew up on the Hero’s Journey. We were raised to believe that you have to suffer pain and sacrifice to achieve success. And that light shines brightest in absolute darkness.
Maybe that makes us the bigger fools.
Because, despite the odds and rational thought, we keep going.
Every time I get knocked down, I rewatch Rocky Balboa and then I get up and keep moving.
And I don’t know if it will get me any closer to my dreams.
No matter how hard I work, success isn’t guaranteed. When my race is run, I may still fail. But I refuse to be a loser.
If I’m going out, I’m going out hard.
When I’m done, there will be nothing left in the tank. No room for doubt.
I’m not going to quit. Because I’m too stubborn or too stupid to do otherwise.
#depression #anxiety #mentalhealth #dreams #goals #heroesjourney
