“What do you care what other people think?”

I try not to.  But I do.

I worry if I write too many good things about myself people will think I’m bragging.  That I’m full of myself.  Maybe that’s why I write so many negative things about myself.

There are a lot of things I do that I don’t want to do.  Mostly those are things other people want me to do.

I’m a people-pleaser.  I want people to like me.  To love me.

That’s not such a bad thing by itself.

I do things that make me unhappy to make other people happy.  That’s when it becomes a problem.

When I become a doormat.

I feel trapped

“If you hate your job, you hate your life.”

– Dale Partridge

I really want to quit.  But I feel like I can’t.

I’m burning out.  Burned out.  Beyond burned out.

And no one seems to care.

“Just keep going.  We’re depending on you!”

I’m running myself into the ground.

“Stop complaining!”

I’m overwhelmed.

First-world problems, I know…

Maybe I’m just tired.

I never want to hear that phone ring again.

Why can’t people ever think for themselves?

In my dark moods I think some people are too stupid to live.

I’m tired of being a doormat.

I feel like my work is stupid and meaningless.

I hate myself for doing something only for money and being so gutless.

How much longer do I have to keep doing this?