you are doomed

I am screwed.
I am lost.
It's over.

The worst thing about the adulthood is that we cannot just walk away.

I mean, we can, but that'll be very irresponsible, harmful (to others) and, well, rude.

So considering those who will be affected by my quitting or giving up, despite my accumulating and apparent incompetence, I cannot just 'get up and leave.'

The new plan must now be my way out. A way out with some dignity, and a job.

How is it possible that at the age of 45, I still don't know what I want? And all I do is complain? to the point that I alienate some of my most previous friends? I have turned into a whinny middle-age lady stuck in the middle management with self-inflicted calamities. Both at work and at home.

But all of it, literally all of it, can be classified as a first-world problem. IOW, I have nothing to complain, really.

Miles are covered one step at a time

Stressed or distressed or depressed.
Can't really tell the difference at this point.
I am facing, as usual, the massive consequence of my failure, inadequacy, shortcomings, whatever.

The biggest mistake I have made is, accepting to do more than I could handle.
Pretending to have the answers I don't have.
Failing to say 'no.'

But if I had admitted to not having solutions. If I had said no and stayed within my small comfort zone... Could I have seen and experienced what I did in the last 12 months? No, I could not.

I will take the plane tomorrow. It will most likely be the most humiliating and uncomfortable trip I have ever had in my professional life. Worse than the one I had a month ago. I will be ridiculed, maybe blamed. Why am I doing this? What have I got myself into?

Here I am wishing for an accident, that will let me 'off the hook.'

I am tired. Maybe, I am just simply, really really tired and the reality is not as awful as I perceive. Maybe, just may be, I am not as pathetic as I feel. Maybe, I will not be received so poorly on the other side of the ocean. Maybe I will be granted the forgiveness that I so crave. Maybe I don't even need to be forgiven.

Why is it that I am always in the position of being forgiven? I never have to forgive others because nobody ever, or hardly ever, wrongs me. I am surrounded by honest people who are wise enough not to promise what they cannot deliver. They don't have to beg for my forgiveness. I, on the other hand, am apologizing constantly. Non-stop. To everyone. For causing them pain, obstacles, extra work, nuisance. Why am I so imperfect?

I deserve whatever is coming my way. Resigned, I go. I will take the plane. To my dreaded, humiliation. Oh, my friend, will you forgive me?

Miles? more like 6000 miles. one step at a time, sure,  but I will by flying at 800 miles/hour. 6000 miles away, awaits my doom. The doom I deserve. One giant step at a time, I go. I plunge, with a defeated smile. I am tired.

The road appears under the feet of the one going

It's 5:30 AM. It's the first day of school (and work). I wake up with a pounding heart like a school child. Because I didn't finish my homework. Being 45 years old and no longer a student, I will not be scolded or punished by the teachers, of course. Rather, the endless to-do list, the low production rate and disapproval and disappointment by my colleagues will do the job of a teacher.  Sleep deprivation for the next several weeks, no months. Yes months 'til mid-May this year. I have not even sorted out my to-do list to determine what to do first. In fact, it has gotten too scary to make the list.

What scares me the most is my diminished mental capacity. In 2015, I have lost the ability to juggle between the parental and professional duties, while I appear to juggle between various professional tasks (at work) just fine. But I cannot get hardly any work done once I come home. I become a mother (not even a wife) and .... that's it. I cannot complete a single task for my work until the next morning. If this is a form of "burn-out" it has lasted over 7 months now. If it is not, then I am suffering from a sort of dementia. A scary thought, indeed.

No matter. I will have to show up at work in less than 3 hours. And I have to start getting the job done. Must make that lengthy To-Do list that I dread making, reading, then adding more. It will be not be an easy, or even an okay start this year. It will be a busy, confusing, and likely an impossible start. But it's a start and I have to life my leg, turn my brain on and get going. And I pray to no one in particular that my brain will start, then may the road appear under my feet.