On the attainment of goals- the ones we are SUPPOSED to attain as opposed to the ones we THINK we are supposed to.

I've had a LOT of time to think since my long term full time job finished. 21 months to be exact.
I'd realized I needed a change of career for a long long time, but stewed for a couple of years, indecisive as to what I wanted "to-be-when-I-grow-up" and too scared to quit.
It's a huge self-esteem blow not having a career- especially since I always have. Even in college, I was working some form of job, even if it was a volunteer position or just part-time.
The past 21 months has seen some bare patches. On unemployment for 13 months, financially, I survived. But the old me died. The old me who had all the answers. The one who met every goal she set, even when people said I couldn't or even shouldn't. The me who was both admired and hated for my accomplishments.
Unemployed, job hunting, interviewing and being picked over time after time, and school shopping , and getting no ah-ha moments as to which direction I was moving forward in destroyed my self-image. I had to admit that I could not accomplish every single I wanted to. I had to face the fact that, as a human being, there were limitations, whereas I had previously believed there WERE no limits to what I could do. I had believed people whop could not accomplish something were weak, flawed, incapable, lazy, or just plain inferior.  I suddenly felt trapped, helpless, defeated- like I had become inferior overnight. I went from the extreme of feeling like the most capable being there was to feeling like the LEAST capable creature in Midgard. I gave up control and asked the gods to take over, thinking there would be results when I relinquished control and admitted I'm only human and can only do so much. I was unprepared for an answer that was different than the one I'd asked for.
The answer came as silence to the question of what to do, and lack of results I was expecting.
Worse yet, it became screamingly obvious my whole self-identity had been tied to my job, which was gone.
Unemployed and unable to move forward, who was I?
Had I become somebody else since I seemed to no longer be able to make shit happen? Would I ever get out of this rut and be in the drivers seat of my life again?
Perhaps I had accomplished the things I was born to and was waiting to reincarnate, and nothing would be accomplished until I crossed the veil?
The whole thing depressed me.
Time and again, in trying to make myself feel better, I sat down and wrote out lists of all I'd accomplished since I became jobless.
At the top of that was "I quit smoking." I was not a cigarette smoker, but a shi-sha smoker-  the Middle Eastern tobacco pipe used with molasses treated tobacco. I observed co-workers going outside every hour or two and taking a 10-15 minute smoke break. I was not the only one who leaned on that drug as a crutch.
Quitting smoking was something I never could have done at that job. Sometimes, the job upset and stressed me to the point I was talking on my lunch break about how I could not wait to go smoke some tobacco and how much better I'd feel once I did. I admit to speeding on the way home and lighting up immediately once I got home some days. I'd then drink.
I would not say I'd become an alcoholic- but I will say, I would have made a very good one. Alcohol and tobacco got me through the days and weeks and years I was at that job. I still have alcohol, but significantly less. I went from about a bottle of wine a day to one bottle every week or two- spread out over the days.
I also gave up fast food. I researched food choices and healthy eating. I learned some new dished I'd always wanted to. Our food bill dropped because we ate at home more often. Indigestion I'd had for years disappeared within a week, and my nutrient level spiked.
I knew all the tobacco, alcohol, and bad food was bad for me, but I was so unhappy, I did not care. I actually told people I was not interested in anything that would prolong my life, and smoking and eating poorly would help shorten the time I lived.
I also tried some things I did not "have time for" when I was at that job. I wanted to try belly dancing. I tried it. Got bored with the classes, but tried it. Always wanted to, goal accomplished.
I wanted to learn Native American beading. I sure did. Some days, that was all I worked on in between the job hunting, fruitless interviewing, and housekeeping. Which brings me to my next point.
I wanted to improve my marriage.
Now, granted, my husband is not any more perfect than the next husband, but he is a good man, and we are in love. Our relationship improved overnight, literally, when I no longer had that job. I discovered my husband's reliability, devotion, and he became my number one supporter following loss of the job. I wanted our sex life to improve...it did....     :)
I wanted to learn more about Indigenous history to be a better tour guide at my job. "Indian" caverns. I learned.
I spent a lot of time with my mother before she died. We never had a relationship in between her doses of narcotics and her violent fits. There's no room for anything between narcotics and violence. Anywhere. Having deteriorated to the point she could no longer be physically abusive, and aware of the fact I'd get up and leave if she got verbally abusive, I was able to actually have some normal conversations with her, eat some meals with her, and I now honor her on my ancestor altar.  That was something I never thought would be accomplished, but miraculously, it was.
A goal was to work exclusively at the caverns. I always said I wish I could. This year, I did. I took on more responsibilities and earned an assistant management role. It was not as glamorous as being a Director, like I had been, but it was what I wanted. I got to deal with the budgeting, training, coordinating of programs, and be in the inner workings of the place. I even helped with toilets! I will always remember this as the best season I worked there- and if there was a way I could never work anyplace but there, I'd do it in a heartbeat.
I went to see about being a social worker, a chef, a cosmetologist, a Doctor of Theology, a Professor of History. Did not pursue these paths of study.
I took work in industrial printing and at a dollar store and at a fast food joint.
I went out of state to see about this film program, and volunteered at a theater helping with costumes.
I gave more tarot readings, and went to less meetups- because this is what I wanted. I shrugged off dealing with mediating Pagan drama to the point people don't even ask me to get involved anymore. I officiated at a Pagan Pride Day, and I managed to do so without my Priest helping me. Something I did not believe I was ready for.
I wanted to be sick less often. Abracadabra, it happened. Less stress, no tobacco, better foods, and less exposure to sick people meant less infections. Unfortunately, my husband got a new job working with more people who have kids than he had at his last job- so he dragged some infections home to me. But still less than before.
I also came to terms with the fact I have a problem that I denied all my life. I have anxiety disorder. I had to admit it when driving the car became impossible sometimes due to the anxiety. I had to give up highway driving entirely after being stranded on the side of highways alone more than once, and I had to give up out of town trips alone. Which meant I had to learn to rely on other people who I am involved with. It was a huge blow to my ego to have to admit I could NOT be designated driver anymore. I always wanted that job. It was fun. I felt in control. With that gone, I also had to learn to be less of a passenger seat driver. Beggars cannot be choosers, and nobody wants to give rides to somebody who will pick them to pieces in the process. It limited my freedom. Years ago, I'd jump in the car and go four hours away for the day if i so pleased without a word to anybody. I drove cross-country by myself. I left the country by myself. Suddenly, these things were not an option anymore- and I did not like ti one bit, and I still don't. I humbled myself and went to the doctor to see what could be done. Behavioral modification did not work, and neither did pills. I had to admit that I have a condition I may live with the rest of my life- one that is embarrassing, and one that limits me in ways I don't like.

I also realized, I'd been married to my job instead of Ted. Not good. I stressed at work. Stressed after work about what all happened, and before work, I dreaded going in. Days off, I counted down the hours I had left before I had to return, and I can remember waking up one day, unable to get out of bed because I was just not able to go to that place. The next day was the same, and then the weekend, I was off. I figured by Monday, after four days off, I'd feel better. I felt worse.
 I worked regular Monday through Friday hours, and then evenings, weekends, and holidays as well.
There were fights in meetings, fights with corporate, layoffs followed by reports of IMPROVED profits while remaining staff doubled workloads, and constant un-constructive criticism from administration. Plus, there was administration change two or three times per year, and three different corporations owned our building in five years.
The field was in elder health care, and I learned at this job that some health care in this country is all about the guys on top getting rich off the patients and the lower staff being exploited by upper management. Further was the corrupt practice of over medicating for every ailment and the rut of debt people invariably fell into to pay rising costs for pharmaceuticals designed to fool patients who are in their 80's and up to believe their organ functioning can be drugged back into the functioning of a person in their 20's and 30's. I developed a strong distrust of medical care in general, most especially the nursing home and assisted care industry.
I loved my residents and their families, but after 11 years in health care, I burned out. Burned to a crisp. Burned up. Burned.

So once I stopped living at the job, I was able to start living my LIFE. My credit is ruined, and I am looking for employment still. But I have a roof over my head, reliable transportation, food, clothing, and all I need- most importantly, the people I love.  I experienced things I never could have if I'd had that job. I'm not able to buy as much- which I sorely miss. But I will earn more money in the future.
This 21 month stretch has reinvented me. I have accepted the fact I am human and need help sometimes, and need to abandon "bright ideas" sometimes and set more attainable goals. Once, somebody who prided herself with attaining what was thought as impossible, I humbled myself to admit other people are just as capable and hardworking as I am and some shit is just not going to happen. I learned to reciprocate with people. I learned to accept as well as give. I learned to live on less money. I learned I am not my job- but who I am exists outside of all the things I do. I gave up an ego based on worldly success and learned pride in my own humanity. A good trade.
The job from hell behind me, the best is yet to come, and the time in between has really not been bad at all.