If I Don't Laugh, I'll Cry | True Life: I Almost Quit My Job

In the very recent past, I had felt an insane amount of stress. I know exactly where it comes from - it's a healthy mix of outside forces paired with my inability to silence my brain. I spend most of my days worrying about things like:  a small comment a co-worker made in passing; whether my hair looks good; wondering if my cat's consuming enough water; or whether I'll be able to come up with a good enough idea to write about.

All of that stress culminated into one of the realest experiences ever.

I was offered a position with another company. It offered more responsibility, a chance to work on larger campaigns, and a larger paycheck. For someone who has been in the same position for 4 years and  secretly wanting such an opportunity to arise, I accepted the offer. I would be stupid not to, right?

For exactly 74 hours, I thought so.

Resignation letter in hand, I asked for a sit-down with my boss. I panicked and begged myself not to cry, but when my boss asked if I actually wanted to go, all I could do was shake my head and make that ugly face you make when you're letting go of an entirely unnecessary amount of stress.

I myself am not a public crier. Yes, I cry - I'm not a cyborg. I cry to my mom or my fiance or my sister, not my boss.

But I did. Because for months, I was internally and excessively fabricating this kind of quiet misery, suppressing it and pushing it deeper and deeper without actually talking through it with a person that had a major role in the narrative.

Let me just say, every job has it's bullshit. My job is no different, but what I was doing was making those bullshit factors exponentially worse by ignoring them and secluding myself to that quiet misery, all the while holding myself back from my own personal growth. It was a classic case of being my own worst enemy.

I resented people, places, and things for reasons that, as it were, I over-dramatized in my own mind.
It only took a ten minute conversation for me to realize that I'm actually very okay with my place in my career. And I had to have that conversation with someone who, up until that point, it felt very taboo to make aware of my thoughts and feelings about the situation.

We talked about goals and growth, what I wanted to see happen and what he could make happen. I left the conversation teary with as much time as I needed to consider my options.

Like anyone, I have goals in life. Career goals, personal goals, fitness goals - the works. Just because I didn't take this particular leap doesn't mean that I'm never going to take a leap. Now, more than ever, I see clearly where I want to take myself professionally. And for now, I have the people, tools, and opportunities I need to keep working at that goal, and the kick in the ass I didn't know I was searching for.

What I have realized in the weeks since I "put my two weeks in" is that I have time to meet my goals and that there doesn't have to be as many stepping stones to do so. I learned that I really need to stop and smell the damn roses every now and again. I learned that at the end of the day, things aren't as bad as I make them seem, whether in my own head or expressed outwardly to others. I learned that even on the bad days, the good things about work (and life) will always outweigh the bad.

Am I worried about coworkers seeing this? No, not really. Because everyone that should know about the experience has been (I assume) made aware of the situation. And anyone directly involved in pulling me out of the very murky muck I was in that day is already aware of the situation. And I'm comfortable sharing this experience (obviously), and anyone who wants to know more can ask me about it

So yes, I burned a bridge and yes, I made an ass out of myself at work (crying is for RomCom's, funerals, or like, the privacy of your bathtub), but out of all that I have re-centered and I'm trying harder every day to focus on the good instead of harping on the negative, working towards my goals in the most ass-backward way I know how.