As we get older, the life lessons we learn are much, much more painful than ever before.  Maybe because with spouse, kids, careers, mortgages, and social responsibilities, we realize the stakes are much higher.  The consequences can be far more daunting, a ripple effect that touches everyone around us.  If that doesn’t scare you into fetal position, nothing ever will. 

Ah, but I am single, no kids, and no one is counting on me except me.  And I’m finding that this is equally as terrifying, especially when you are your own worst critic. 

Recently, I left a well-paying position for an elective “demotion” and I did so to spare my own sanity.  It’s so easy, when you are single, to allow work to envelope you, to define you, to become not only the biggest part of your life, but the largest contributor to your identity as well.  Unfortunately, my “identity” required that I travel great distances several times a week, put in the hours of a Haitian kid in a sweatshop (salaried position), and abandon the rest of my life just to make a living.  It took the greater part of 5 years for me to get that this was unhealthy and that I was paying a hefty price.  So, I quit.  Cold-turkey.  No other job prospects lined up. It was terrifying and exhilarating, all at the same time. 

Thankfully, a local position, not too far from my current industry, was dropped in my lap.  I will not be required to travel, but I will be taking a substantial paycut to the tune of HALF my current salary.  Still a decent living in Smalltown, USA, but a serious blow to my self-esteem.  I’ve always liked to think that I am not the kind of person who would associate her worth with her paycheck, but as the saying goes, you tend to find out what you are really made of when the crap hits the fan.  And oh, my, am I ever disappointed with the results.

The paralyzing panic attacks first tipped me off that something inside was extremely off-kilter.  So, I left my job, one was handed to me on a platter that embodied everything I said I wanted (thinking, of course, that I could survive without designer handbags), and still, I’m no happier?  Instead of looking at this as an adventure period, a time of self-discovery, an opportunity to find my passions again, I’m desperately scouring Monster.com for the very same position that I just recently escaped?  Instead of being energized by a positive attitude, I’m tearfully spending my evenings wondering if McDonald’s is out of my budget?  Instead of being thankful that, in this economy, a job was provided in record time, I am bemoaning the fact that I will have to start checking price tags before I drop something in my shopping cart?  Where did this person come from?  Who is she?  I’ve never been a stop-and-smell-the-roses kind of chick, but I never, in a million years, realized that I had become so stereotypical.  I’ve always prided myself on a do-or-die mentality, but now that my hand is to the fire, I’m wondering if that mindset ever really existed.