Transition Part III.

A few things became clear to me during my last few months at my state job:
While I might be good at social service, mainly because of my innate ability to be compassionate, and also because of my learned skill to listen, problem solve, and write narrative reports, I didn’t really like it that much. Now, it’s quite likely that I didn’t like it that much because of the social service/counselor hat that I had to wear at my house. Perhaps if my family wasn’t so out of control, then I wouldn’t be growing tired of working as a helper on my job. But I felt that I was being sandwiched by two groups of people who had some serious issues.

The truth was that I was growing increasingly tired of “being there” for everybody. And my family, no matter how hard I worked to change many of the circumstances, remained the same.

I couldn’t get rid of my folks, although I probably would like to from time to time. But one thing I knew I could walk away from was my job. That was the break that I felt that I needed to make. My family and my clients were draining me. And the computer problems certainly didn’t make matters better. I knew I needed to bounce and bounce soon.

Well, quitting was not an option as long as I didn’t have another job. It’s hard out here for a pimp. So, you know it’s hard out here for a blind chick. Today’s economy is not built to allow someone to be “okay” without making some paper. So, I knew I had to find another job before making that decision to roll out of my stable job. But unfortunately, finding a job was and is not too easy for someone that is blind.

I begin to question myself. I started feeling like I needed to just “put up” with whatever I was going through/feeling, being that my job was a “good job” for someone that was blind. And guess what… I had co-workers and a couple of friends that reminded me from time to time how I needed to just “put up” with all the shortcomings and dissatisfaction that I was experiencing on my job.

One of my co-workers told me that I just needed to be thankful to have a job. She reminded me how many blind people wish they could be in my shoes. I started feeling like an ingrate, completely incapable of identifying and being thankful for a “good” opportunity for my blind A$$. But even still, I knew I wanted more.

Being blind, having limited options was not enough to stop me from wanting, wishing, and fighting for more. I knew deep down on the inside that I deserved more. I knew that no matter what, no matter how blind I was, no matter how blessed I was to have that so called good job, I deserved some personal fulfillment, satisfaction, and peace. I knew that I didn’t have to settle for less, just because I could not see. So, I started planning and working on a plan to depart my place of unhappiness and dissatisfaction.

**More later… I believe that the next two posts will be the end of this series of posts. Boy, this story is much longer than I thought.**