What it means to not have life figured out

So much of my life is about chasing goals. When I was in primary school, all I wanted was to graduate valedictorian and make my parents proud. When I was in high school, I wanted to be valedictorian too, so I worked and worked until I got the title and the opportunity to study in the most prestigious university in the Philippines. When I finished four years in said university, all I wanted to do was find a job that made me happy and financially well-off. I got those things, really, but I worked too hard that I got burned out. By 25 I was having heart palpitations at 3am and paralysis over everything I try to put my hands on.

Surely, I was successful, but it cost me my health and happiness that the success seemed hollow, like I got a medal made out of plastic.

Now, I’m 26, employed in the family business but not doing anything, really, but lucky enough to have my family with me to support me in whatever it is that I do. I’m not 100% unfortunate. I tried applying for a job earlier this month and got two prospects, and I was hired, except they disqualified me when they found out I was already employed in the family business. It wasn’t about my qualifications; it was about the circumstances I had that stopped me from starting right back on my career. I cried to my mom about it, but she told me she was disappointed, not because of my career trajectory, but because I let such a small problem break me down. And she was right; plenty of people would love to be unemployed but financially secure, and here I am, crying over my privilege.

That’s going to have to stop now. I’ve started bullet journaling to track my activities. I’ve set up steps to achieve certain goals, measurable ones I can do daily without hurting me. I’ve started writing again, something I didn’t think I can do again when I resigned from the job that almost killed me.

It’s a good life. I just need to convince myself that it is and to keep moving forward. I just need to have faith and believe.

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