I’m feeling a little low right now. Donna has gone back to stay with her mother for a while.

I tried my best to make her see what I was trying to do, and that I wanted her to be a part of that. What I succeeded in doing was to come off as some sort of raving lunatic.

I could have explained it better perhaps, but I don’t think that would have worked. She had her mind made up as to the type of lifestyle she wanted, and my “vision” was a world away. She loves our current lifestyle. I’m not judging here; after all, it was my lifestyle for years. She simply does not want to give that up. There was no way to explain it to her. She wasn’t willing to listen. In fact, she chalked it up to a mid-life crisis. Her last words were “call me when you grow up.”

I realize that many would think me a fool to part company for such a silly reason. I never said this would be easy, nor did I expect it to be. It’s going to take a tremendous amount of courage and resolve to see this through.

As hard as it is, I would never impose my ideals on someone, just as I would expect that others would not impose their will on me.

No, I’m not heartless and un-feeling. There where many other factors involved which led to Donna leaving. Many are personal.

I’m happy.

For once in my life, I feel like things are finally falling into place. I feel as though I now have choices.

Now, nothing has changed on the outside. I’m still doing what I’ve been doing for the past 20 years. However, there is one important difference. I now have hope.

The simple act of making the decision to change my life has been very powerful. I’ve lost that persistent feeling of hopelessness that has been following me around for decades.

I’ve, more or less, completed the outline for what I plan to do in the upcoming months. It’s certainly not chiseled in stone, as I’m sure things will change on a day-to-day basis, once I start implementing things.

Everything is good. It all feels great, except for one thing- I feel that once I tell the world of my plans, I will face a lot of criticism and negativity. Much of this will come from my family and friends. I’m not looking forward to this. However, I realize that in order to start living life on my own terms, I’ll have to ignore much of it.

Like so many others, I have been conditioned by society to regard this type of lifestyle (the one I am proposing) as risky, immature, and irresponsible. Society keeps us in check by frowning upon this sort of thing. Our self-worth is very much tied to what it is we do for a living.

I worry about what others will think of me. I worry about losing my “social status,” as it has taken many years to build. I fear being perceived as lazy and unproductive. Of all the hurdles I will be facing in the coming months, this will certainly be the greatest.

After all, this is going against the norms. It is certainly not how mature, responsible adults are meant to behave.

While many of us may dream of packing in the career, there are, in fact, very few who carry through with it. 95% of us simply accept it as a part of living in a civilized world. “Your livelihood is certainly something you should never gamble with.”

To prove this point, let me tell you about a conversation I had with my brother last week.

I mentioned (in theory, mind you) my plans for the future. The reaction I got was predictable. He seemed visibly upset. He immediately started lecturing me (as though talking to a small child) about how important my job was; how lucky I was to have it, as hundreds would be lining up for it if I resigned. He reminded me of how the rest of the family would react and how shameful it would be to be unemployed. He said it was too risky and that I would have to start all over eventually, with less money and vacation time.

He questioned me on my plans for the future, and when I could not tell him exactly, he told me that he thought it was the most irresponsible thing he had ever heard. Lastly, he told me that he was reacting exactly how any other family member would. He was right about that.

I never thought this would be easy, and I was fully prepared for that type of reaction. However, I’m determined to follow this through, and to not be influenced by others. I’s going to take a great deal of strength and resolve to overcome the opinions of others. Are they genuinely worried, or perhaps a little jealous?

There is no way that I can make this happen without losing some of the “prestige” and “status” that I’ve built up over the years. Frankly, I don’t care. It’s highly over-rated anyway. I’m determined to do what’s best for me.

The final days of our vacation were poisoned with the notion of having to return to work on Monday. All the enjoyment and new-found freedom was gone. I had a nagging feeling of doom and hopelessness that literally sucked the enjoyment out of the final few days. I started waking up in the middle of the night, thinking of returning to that hell-hole. My appetite was gone, and work was once more dominating my thoughts. I was miserable.

Sunday was spent at home, quiet and uneventful. Donna seemed to be ok. She left to visit her sister for a few hours, and I was left to mull over a few decisions.

I was jolted out of bed at 5am the next morning by the very familiar and sickening sound of my alarm clock; the loud bleating bursts, rattling my very being. I hadn’t slept all night. I felt more depressed than I had ever been in my life. I just couldn’t do this anymore. Something had to give. I was now on the rat-race schedule and there would be no time for contemplation, original thought or daydreaming. I was on company time now.

As I was putting on a nice white shirt, I couldn’t help but notice the contrast between my, now tanned, skin and the stark whiteness of the shirt. It represented the conservative, business like, nature of the corporate world, and my skin represented the freedom, restfulness and carefree ways of a summer like no other. I wanted to shred the shirt.

Looking down at my feet, I couldn’t help but notice how great a “sandal” tan I had this year. The tan lines on my feet were a depressing reminder of carefree days at the beach, reading a good novel, or snoozing under the umbrella. Well, no time for that now, I had a schedule to keep (slipping on my socks and covering the tan-lines until next year).

I spent the day overwhelmed with work that had not been done. I worked through my lunch to try and get caught up. Everyone welcomed me back. I was quiet, as usual, for the rest of the afternoon. Throughout the day, I could feel myself being re-programmed slowly.

For the past 15 years of my 20-year career, I have returned to work, after enjoying a great holiday, with an overwhelming urge to just give my notice. I have fantasized about how great this would feel, and how free my life would be, as a result. I have never followed through for many reasons. After all, it’s one thing to think about quitting your job, but another, all together, to actually follow through with it. I suppose we all crave security, and that’s probably the number one reason for not going through with it; well, that, and the backlash that would result with family members. Such a decision would be regarded as immature and foolhardy. Besides, I would lose my dignity and social standing (yeah, right).

Fortunately, this only lasts for a day or so, and then it’s business as usual. I’ve often wondered about this phenomenon. It’s strange how you can’t easily stop worrying about work when you start your holidays, and even more strange how it takes a few days to get back into the rat-race. Is it because we need to be re-programmed? My guess is, yes.

This time it was different. Yes, I still had the same feelings of being trapped and such, but this year I truly felt that if I didn’t make a decision now, that I would remain enslaved until retirement. Besides, recent events in my life were serving as a wake-up call. I sat down and logically thought it over.

I made a list of things I needed to change. Quitting my job was at the top. I then went through all the reasons why it should happen now, instead of later. Nothing is really easy, and you won’t always satisfy everyone, but the decisions still need to be made, otherwise you’ll spin your wheels for years, stuck in the same rut, afraid to move. I decided that torturing myself for the next 20 years was too high a price to pay. Yes, there are a hundred reasons to stay (some of them good), but also several reasons to leave, and leave soon. I decided on the later.

Sept 6 was the day my life changed. On the outside, everything seemed normal, but inside, I was bursting with joy. The decision had been made, and I felt as though a thousand-pound weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I felt better than I have felt in 20 years. A bit scary, maybe, but the relief that the decision had been made was electrifying.

This week has gone great. I am happy and I guess people notice it. Life no longer feels hopeless. I can see a light at end of the tunnel (where it leads to is uncertain for now). I realize now just how trivial this job is, in the grand scheme of things, and how I have always desperately clung to it for *false* security.

Mentally, making the decision is most of the battle.