Helpful

When, at the beginning of the year, I was jobhunting and dealing with regular rejection from all angles, it was hard to carry on and maintain positivity. Getting the job I have now, there was a sense of relief, tempered by the ongoing fear that one misstep and it would be back to the drawing board. As the kaleidoscope shifted into the chaos that was late March, I threw myself into work, into whatever virtual socialisation I could get my hands on, and into whatever project I could find to fill the sudden jump in hours of the day that I had spare.

The Sword of Damocles is hangin’ over my head
And I’ve got the feelin’ someone’s gonna be cuttin’ the thread
Oh! Woe is me! My life is a misery
Oh! And can’t you see
That I’m at the start of a pretty big downer.

‘The Sword of Damocles’ from ‘Rocky Horror Picture Show’ (O’Brien)

I have long had an unhealthy relationship with being needed. By looking like the most competent or willing person in the room, you make a social pressure that once something is done they have to express gratitude. In lieu of having a sense of being wanted, you replace it with being irreplaceable. The Sword of Damocles in this situation, it turns out, has its thread cut when the reliable supply of odd jobs and major engagements dries up. Nothing, and nobody, is irreplaceable.

As can probably be gathered, I’ve been feeling somewhat worthless lately, and a couple of things have transpired in the last few months to accentuate this to beyond its usual unhappy lake to a barely restrained ocean. With worthlessness comes a fear that reaching out to catch up with people will be met with indifference, because the oppotunity cost of my interaction is too great. With worthlessness comes irritation with others and oneself, because you see what you could be helping with if only you were asked, but cannot reconcile the uncomfortable jealousy for people also doing their best. With worthlessness comes the feeling that you do not deserve to be given the time of day, or have resources dedicated to you.

Somewhere after midnight
In my wildest fantasy
Somewhere just beyond my reach
There’s someone reaching back for me
Racing on the thunder and rising with the heat
It’s gonna take a Superman to sweep me off my feet

‘Holding Out For A Hero’ from ‘Footloose’ (Steinman/Pitchford)

It’s not realistic to keep holding on for the day when it’s all going to fall into place. Things very rarely just happen, and when they do there’s always something else that comes along to take life into a tailspin. It’s exhausting to keep putting in work for diminishing returns.

Despite this, I think I’m still alright, for now. It’s just a less stable state than could be hoped for.