A number types across my head.
A number increasing 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 and on forever,
or appearing to inside a mind that fears the meaning behind it all.
Two hundred and sixty-nine another number with the same meaning,
Am I to be held hostage by this number and my own self-doubt?
I hope not…
For the past 8 months I have been trapped in a limbo, directionless and scared. I became redundant from a job that I loved and my creative outlet, gone. The trail was pulled from under my feet; I felt lost.
It wasn’t an immediate fall into despair, at first I viewed it as an adventure spent and now, I can move on to new things, possibly better things. But like the stages of a breakup it moved into questioning, did I make the right decisions, where do I go from here and then please god take me back! And finally, acceptance or do you ever really accept it?
For the first three months of returning to the UK, I caught up with old friends, got back into the swing of being in a full-time relationship again. After that, I started the search for a new job, specifically in Scotland, then when nothing came of that, the rest of the UK. I found even with the experience I had racked up working with a huge company, it still wasn’t enough to get me interviews or opportunities. It was disheartening, it was frustrating. I thought this definitely has to give me a leg up but no, back to the beginning of the career game.
I continued applying for more jobs similar to my last, then jobs that were still in media, then social media, then fucking anything that was at least appealing. I got a few interviews, completed tasks, multiple interview stages, presentations all to be rejected in the end. This was really hard to swallow. I felt like I had a lot to offer but that slowly turned to, do I? Self-doubt is a slow disease working its way through the body until you can’t move. Overly dramatic? Well its how it felt to me…
I missed having a schedule, it was my timekeeper my speeding clock, a loss I found hard to replace. When I made myself a schedule I felt like it didn’t amount to anything because I wasn’t working and for me, it had no outcome. Terrible way to look at it, I know but when you feel useless and unwanted the mind can be a devilish character.
A war is being raged in the corporate world, a battle of applications and the weapon of choice; uniqueness. How do you show that on a piece of paper? The final engagement takes place in a small office with three chairs when nerves are at there highest and you may not shine the brightest you have inside of you. Is that your only chance? Have you lost? Back to the drawing board.
After shacking awake my confidence I came to the realisation that I wasn’t in the worst position. I had somewhere to stay, I had friends and I had choices. I could continue to wrap my whole being around the idea of working in media or I could consider other options. That isn’t to say I am giving up on my career path, no, no I love visual media, it just means I am considering other roads.
I have always enjoyed photography and capturing the world around me. Through UNI and work, I have had the opportunity to learn how to edit motion images and I gathered familiarity with Photoshop, so I am using my time to improve and create new images, my own images. It might be just a hobby or a new future source of income, I don’t know, it all depends on whether people like what I have to offer enough. If not I have also begun writing a book and poetry, other mediums that could possibly pay for the food in my fridge and the shoes on my feet. But I honestly don’t know. If anything they are conduits to feed my everlasting flow of expression.