As I re-read my old entry on leaving my first job 3 years ago, I realized that I am experiencing the same emotional distress as I was then. The same self-doubts, frustrations and anger. But this time, there are no shoulders to shed tears on and there is no reassuring encouragement from anyone. I sit alone in my arm chair, eyes getting moisten every now and then, and feeling exhausted even though I have been physically inactive for the last few months. The despair is slowing eating me alive. It is not that I am the loser of this game that draws self-pity but rather, the feeling that your heart gets trampled on when you so eagerly had it laid bare. The stint with my last employer was a simple give-and-take relationship and nothing in the work evoked a deeper calling. By choosing to return to school I made a commitment on my future and sacrificed earning potential. I remember once saying that being able to make a commitment and sacrifice for a cause is a happiness in itself because you have found things in life that are worth giving up pure hedonistic pursuit. So I thought I was content. And yet, much like a romantic relationship, just because you chose it does not mean it would also choose you. I ticked through the long contact list on my phone but there is no one I could call. Maybe, I am not as self-content as I imagined myself to be.
