Divergence

This anxiety, though. There has been one, two people who questioned my ability to stay put, and I had taken it as a challenge. And I love challenges. Accepted. But now, I’m not so sure.

My trial time ends in about a month, and whenever asked about it, they always say not to worry, which is nice of them. A nicer thing would’ve been to not diminish my worry by automatically telling me not to, but obviously I know where they come from. I’ve done enough to justify my staying here. It’s just not a good enough reason, I think. The picture is clear but I can’t stop focusing on the missing elements.

When you apply for and subsequently start a job, you’re facing a series of events based on an overwhelmingly positive mindset from both parties. A job vacancy is out, and a company hopes for the best, despite knowing what the pool looks like, already visualizing finding a person who can make a difference. An applicant sends their resume, despite knowing what the competition looks like, convincing themselves that they are unique and different. An interview takes place, and both parties try to convince each other to form a long-term contractual bond. A document is signed, and the employee starts their early days, brimming with ambition to succeed, essentially believing they can do what nobody else in this company has ever been able to do (for if someone of equal or higher talent has joined the organization, surely the impact would have taken place already?) For every step of the way, there’s a huge leap of faith that beautifully disregards the chances, very real possibilities, that this might go south.

In situations like myself, especially, when jobs already come in through references, there is even more goodwill within the events that unfolded. Which is how I find myself four months into a job I still have hesitations about.

This is absolutely a disproportional analogy, but when victims of domestic abuse come for help, people often wonder what made them stay with the abuser for so long. There are a couple of truisms to respond to that. The first is that nobody is pure evil. The second is that backtracking your leap of faith is a tremendous effort, because taking a leap of faith is near to impossible. One would have to beautifully disregard the very real possibilities that this might go south.

Think about what it’s like to face something that doesn’t “make sense”. You’re an adult. You are sensible – you know and have certainty of how things work. Think about what it’s like when you’re faced with something that doesn’t fit what you know. How many of us have chosen to refuse to believe in reality, because it didn’t make sense?

Now, clearly I’m not saying I’m the first to ponder the extreme difficulties of “just believe”. I am baffled that this seems tremendously more difficult for me to do than for everyone else. So when I hear “Don’t worry, you’ll get the job.” I can’t find a way to reply, “It’s not about my worry. It’s not about me. What about the job itself – does it need to exist? Do *I* need to exist in this company?” because extending a relationship beyond its natural state is a great, great sin in my view, inexcusable even by that tangible benefit of “me getting to keep the job”. Don’t you see? Your consolation is short-term and disorienting, and I don’t want to disorient you further, because all this mental conflict is hurting my head, and I guess I can’t really do that to others.

The few people who doubted my sustainability with this job felt as though this doesn’t fit “me”. It’s too ordinary, they say. It won’t last. I should be doing something more out there. How nice of them to say. I had refused to believe them, because I thought “I” have been about uncovering meaning, which can be done in perfectly ordinary places. It’s always a mismatch, between how we want to see life and how we actually see life. You say to a friend “How cool that you get to start your company at 25”, and the friend nodded, then turns up the next day, as she did every single day this year, despite not knowing what she’s doing there and wondering if everything is going to shambles. We put on a nice face when people overestimate our lives, and we definitely put on a nice face when people underestimate our lives. And then we go ahead and live it, because there’s just no other choice.

But that’s the confusion, precisely – everyone saying that there *are* other choices. You could leave. Find something else. Travel. Take a break. Write. Be yourself. Share your stories. These are all tempting options, and we’ve all heard and probably done some of them, have we? The question is, when do we stop living life to the fullest?