i finally quit my job

i quit my job in february after holding on for much longer than i probably should have. it hurt a lot to do that and now, i’m sure i’m still mentally wrecked because of it. but i’m working on it. 

when i graduated college, i had a ~dream~ to travel abroad for a year with no savings or actual plan on how to make that happen. instead, i took a “marketing journalism” job to afford continuing to live in san francisco, and the rest is history!! i had a lot of fun playing dress-up and taking the muni downtown to go into beautiful office buildings, then meeting up with other friends doing the same thing as me to get drunk at happy hours. over the years, i became increasingly unhappy and wondered whatever happened to that big dream of mine.

everyone talks about saving up a rainy day fund, but i didn’t have that. i say it took me 10 years to save for this trip, but really it took me 10 years to pay off yo-yoing credit card debts, pay for rent and other life expenses, land a job that offered stock options! bonuses! money for just working there that i invested, and to save funds on top of that. god how was i so stupid with money before this. 

in the last couple years saving up for this year off, marcus and i stayed in a lot, essentially slowing down our social lives to save money. it helped that that time coincided with 2020/the pandemic and that we went alcohol-free in 2019. drinking is expensive but munchies and rideshares home also add up. but i’m not preaching - do whatever you like.

anyway, i quit my job and spent extensive time in oahu, new york city, and traveling by car to national parks in the southwest of the united states. i saw a lot of beautiful places and connected with family and friends, many whom i haven’t seen in a long time. 

emotionally, i often braced for pain, expecting the worst to happen. admittedly, i thought leaving a job would automatically turn on this switch for happiness, but it didn’t. this last time in oahu, i was deeply saddened that going home wasn’t this grounding experience that it usually is. instead, i was annoyed with all the visitors crowding places where i used to go to find peace and solitude. or how much it felt like it was my responsibility to fix what i didn’t agree with my family and in their home.

so far, that’s been the most disappointing reality of this adventure i’m on. no matter where i go, i am the same. in the last 2 years, i’ve changed a lot, becoming rapidly unhappy, depressed. i’m coming to terms with how stark some things are with my family and how it feels like i’m doomed to take care of it sometime in the future. i have a temper and live many days in a low hum of darkness. sometimes i can’t pinpoint why. i’m just mad or sad or both. 

the good news is that i have more hope that i’ll make it out than i did before. i continue to meditate, journal, and have noticed i’m getting better at detaching from the thoughts. that’s the first lesson of meditation - to not identify with emotions or thoughts, especially the bad ones. 

anyway, now i’m little over a month into traveling abroad and realized my future self would really like some kind of regular documentation of my travels, reflections. what i did and how i felt - that’s what it’s about.