Every attempt I make at doing anything is just never good enough. No matter how much time and effort and thought I put into the things I do they just aren’t enough and if I keep having to take the blame for it I’m going to pop one day.
Today pushed me to the limit. I was told to do something I am physically incapable of. When I informed my supervisor of this they basically told me to “figure it out.” This wasn’t something to be figured out, I literally could not fit into the space I was commanded to work in. Nevertheless I followed commands and put all my effort and knowledge into completing this task. Sure enough I end up hurting myself because I didn’t have the space I needed to maintain a safe posture and footing.
Despite this, someone else is going to be forced into that space again. Because as long as the task is “doable” that’s all that matters and anyone who refuses to do it is just noncompliant and uncommitted. If these circumstances upset me that’s my fault. If they doesn’t upset me enough that’s my fault too. If I refuse to perform these unsafe and poorly planned tasks that makes me problematic. If I get mad somebody undid all my work then that’s just “how this business works.”
If I keep my mouth shut and comply I suffer. If I push back and refuse to take responsibility for other people’s mistakes and failures, I suffer. No matter what I do or how I change, I am always the problem and I’m fucking sick of it. I’m sick of people’s “sympathy,” amounting to nothing more than a list of steps I’m not taking and a reminder I’m not doing enough.
I never wanted any of this. I have never wanted to be alive and I’m so fucking sick of everyone taking my choice to live for granted. I put ungodly amounts of effort into sticking around because I don’t deserve the right to hurt people with my death. But that seems to give everyone else the right to take my efforts for granted and treat them like they never mattered in the first place.
Fuck Earth. Fuck homo sapiens. Fuck living. Every year I force my way through is another 365 regrets to cope with
Today pushed me to the limit. I was told to do something I am physically incapable of. When I informed my supervisor of this they basically told me to “figure it out.” This wasn’t something to be figured out, I literally could not fit into the space I was commanded to work in. Nevertheless I followed commands and put all my effort and knowledge into completing this task. Sure enough I end up hurting myself because I didn’t have the space I needed to maintain a safe posture and footing.
Despite this, someone else is going to be forced into that space again. Because as long as the task is “doable” that’s all that matters and anyone who refuses to do it is just noncompliant and uncommitted. If these circumstances upset me that’s my fault. If they doesn’t upset me enough that’s my fault too. If I refuse to perform these unsafe and poorly planned tasks that makes me problematic. If I get mad somebody undid all my work then that’s just “how this business works.”
If I keep my mouth shut and comply I suffer. If I push back and refuse to take responsibility for other people’s mistakes and failures, I suffer. No matter what I do or how I change, I am always the problem and I’m fucking sick of it. I’m sick of people’s “sympathy,” amounting to nothing more than a list of steps I’m not taking and a reminder I’m not doing enough.
I never wanted any of this. I have never wanted to be alive and I’m so fucking sick of everyone taking my choice to live for granted. I put ungodly amounts of effort into sticking around because I don’t deserve the right to hurt people with my death. But that seems to give everyone else the right to take my efforts for granted and treat them like they never mattered in the first place.
Fuck Earth. Fuck homo sapiens. Fuck living. Every year I force my way through is another 365 regrets to cope with
