The day life went away.
It was another day of the same routine, over and over.
Get up, eat, go to work, deal with people screaming at me all day, drive home in bumper-to-bumper traffic, try to put some food into me, stay up too late, and then sleep. Sleep through the weekends to make up for lost sleep during the week.
Wash, rinse, repeat. Every two weeks, the paycheck I took home was barely enough to cover rent and utilities. I, a grown man, had to beg my parents for money to buy food.
The funny thing is, I didn't plan for life to be this way. After college, I had hopes of being a teacher...until I saw the horrific treatment teachers received in public schools in my area.
Nope. Not going down that road.
So, I took a job in civil service hoping to make a difference.
Instead, I am straight-jacketed by rules not of my own making, telling the public words that they do not want to hear, and receiving verbal abuse trying to enforce said rules. I am trying my best to help people who do not see a person helping them navigate the nebulous restrictions laid down by managers who never did my job, and well-meaning politicians who created policies that did more harm than their intended good. Instead, they see me as the enemy.
"You suck, dude!"
"You don't fuckin' care!"
"How would you like it if I told you that!?"
Day-in, and day-out. Eight hours a day, five days a week. The goal is to survive to get the paycheck.
Somehow during that time, I lost who I was. I lost joy in doing things. I lost the person who enjoyed living.
I lost *me.*
...and I don't know how to find him again.