Catch 22

I’ve said before I harbour an intense dislike of my job. I want to leave. It’s at the point now that the stress is giving me heart palpitations (would point out that in fairness it’s not just the job doing this). I’m on some pills that manage to make it feel like my body slows down, which does help me feel calmer, but at the same time, all the thoughts I have, insecurities, stresses, these all continue to run rampant through my oddly broken brain.

So fuck yeah I want to leave. But here’s the thing.

I also want to buy a house. And get married. So the second I leave, both those things suffer. Even if I go straight into a job with equal pay, no break in between them, to the mortgage masters it will look like I can’t keep a job for a substantial amount of time. Which puts me off. Even then, what would I leave it for? I don’t really know what I want to do for a living. The forces appeal, but would mean living apart from my partner for a long while. Going back to casual work would cut the stress, but also the pay. Uni would be a good idea; new skill, broaden options. But if I can’t afford to go for casual work I sure as hell couldn’t see my way through uni – they/re surprisingly not keen on giving flunkees student loans. Plus also the house thing.

But then, if I don’t do it, I’m gonna keep getting worked up. Breaking down. Relationships will suffer and turn sour. My sleep is already suffering, so would likely mean I lose my current level of fitness. I’d lack the motivation to do anything about it, which would hurt the plans even more.

Yeah, I’m being pretty inflexible about the plans here, but you have to understand, me and A, we moved the fucking length of the country so we could more easily save money, faster, so it’s not just my decision. Even if she flat out told me I needed to do it for my health, how could I easily live with myself knowing that I’d made her compromise again, for me. I take stuff like this pretty fucking seriously, especially at the minute.

So, yeah. Adulting fucking sucks.

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