ACCOZZAGLIA

Welcome to hell.

Okay, I’m pressing extremities here. But how else can this be appropriately described?

That creeping, impending sense of doom is coming back. And now, for the first time ever, I think I know why.

I hate what I do for a living. After clawing through four years of an economic boom where every single art director-type or creative was getting swank gigs and jobs, I watched helplessly as I was passed by every perm opportunity.

“You’re overqualified for the custom-tailored position we created for you.” [translation: "You might not have a university education, and your work is pretty remarkable, but we just can't tolerate having your kind in our place. Even if you're charismatic and fun to be around."]

“HR has asked us to have you not return tomorrow.” [translation: "You look funny. You still scare people from last year. You're the best at what you professionally have to offer, but you're skeery. Please leave now. Get out of our suburb."]

“There’s nothing available.” [translation: "There's plenty available, but we don't want to alarm our clients with your ... presence."]

During the boom, I was marginally and grudgingly brought in, usually at cut-rate in order to keep the clients from panicking. In a recession? Well, let’s just say this: if you previously had a cushy little dot-commie role as a Web developer or art director, and you’re looking for work now, worried about finding something half as good for half as much cheddar, imagine what it must feel like to know that you’re certain to be dragged to the bottom of that image-conscious heap, doomed to get nothing.”

Now, really: is it any wonder why I don’t have passion or even the drive to pursue this professional direction and why I’m so pining to go to law school? I mean, I feel so dead-end, and when I’m faced with the prospect of really rolling my sleeves up and looking for new work to pay the bills, I remember how hard it was *before* the recession and the war, and then I simply fall into a panic attack realising just how fruitless the very idea of doing it now would be.

It’s this feeling of impending failure that reminds me why I feel so shaky and unmotivated in the professional world. Besides, this has been downtime for me since the new year. for the first time in my life, I’ve paid attention to my personal needs.

And might I say, it’s been nothing short of rewarding.

But too much of one thing is not a good thing. It’s hedonistic. And it’s blinding me from those things which I need to muster motivation and run with to get anywhere effective.

I mean, moi, the hypocrite: I give advice to people, based on my library of experiences, and then I’m afraid to follow my own advice. Oh, how last fall shattered my power to believe in me.

Fear of failure in myself? Is there a name for that?

Times like now are times when I will cry. Like tonight. This is something I always do. But since I was *not* alone the last time I came unglued, it’s pretty hard to go back to fetal alone. Being held by someone whom you implicitly trust when you’re at your most vulnerable is an indescribably powerful, hopeful pillar.

Accusations of naïveté can be made here. I’m guilty as charged.

Where am I going with this?

Simple. I seem to have my cards in order on every front of my life but one. I’ve never been this comprehensive before.

Trouble is, the one flaw I see is the one I feel so damned shaky about. The one that keeps me feeling so inferior and generic.