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Nothing’s working. I know.

You’re stuck in a place where you can’t seem to find the strength to suck it up and go on. You probably find meaning in what you do. Just enough to keep you stuck.

You circle this conclusion like a mouse trying to hide from a hawk. But you know this will eat you alive. You can’t go on like this.

And you try to patch things up, you tell yourself you’re going to continue. Just a little longer.

Maybe things will change. Tomorrow. Yet tomorrow never comes.

You can’t go on like this. You know you need to do something. Yet, comfort has you hugged tightly with its teeth in you.

You try to budge, but the teeth sink deeper.

So you stay a little longer.

And you feel your soul rotting inside. Little by little. Slow. Barely perceptible.

You know something’s off. You feel it in your core. You know it’s not you, but the situation surrounding you.

And then, you wake up one day and the sun is shining gloriously over your morning. You drink a cup of coffee outside and take a moment to bask in the warm rays. Feel the vitamin D nourishing your soul. Today is a good day.

But then you go to work and, in this beautiful weather, you’re stuck in a shitstorm doing things you’d rather not.

And then, it hits you in the face. A piece of moist, juicy matter shot from the person who’s been feeding you their crap this whole time.

You react. Try to stay professional. Desperately try not to be dramatic. And they casually tell you they forgot you existed. Like your work was never there.

Whatever was keeping you here, just shattered in a million pieces.

You blink in slow motion. And a smile opens up on your whole face. So wide, it almost hurts.

–

You’ve finally had enough. You’ve checked out mentally and spiritually.

And now you’re filled with rage. The kind of rage that can move mountains. You’re focused. More present than ever.

You smile every time you have to eat a piece of that same old. For six months maybe, you casually smile and do just enough to get you by. You’re not going to invest any second more than necessary.

You think. Hard. It takes a while. But then it clicks and you find a way to do the one thing that gave you meaning here. You try. And fail. And try again.

And you start building from your core. You feel the hunger fading now. The hunger coming from not living with a purpose.

A few weeks ago, you’d come home so tired you’d collapse. Now, you can’t wait to get home so you can get to work. However much you have. Two hours a day, maybe. Two hours a week. You make them count. You’re done lamenting.

And then, one day, you say goodbye. Prepared never to look back.

You’ve made your peace with the losses. You take a few steps and you’re surprised to find out that what was yours follows you.

The only way out is through anger.

Go further.