This human will self destruct in 5...4...3...2

It was all an American Dream

Last night I had a dream. Not a nightmare, but upon awakening I was a little troubled. I'm of a Jungian school of thought, meaning I believe dreams are a product of the unconscious mind sorting through collected data and relaying the processed information back to the surface. I understand them as hints, messages, warnings, or sometimes just simply a thought thinking itself out. Nonetheless, I replay every occurring dream to the best ability of my recollection and decrypt it for any signs, clues, hints, or tips that will be deemed useful in navigating through my conscious experiences.

In this particular dream I was at work, being yelled at through the phone by a manager on the one hand, and trying to diffuse a chaotic situation in the lobby on the other, simultaneously. The most troubling part is this dream was realistic in a sense that it was very similar to experiences I've had at work in real life. And just being unhappy with life at the moment in general and deciding much of that comes from being unhappy with my occupation. I've been putting serious thought into switching to a new career over the past 2 or 3 months, but the fear of uncertainty overrides taking the first step every time. I've wasted much of my adult life in prison or active addiction, and while trying to transition into a healthy and productive lifestyle there are things I am picking up that seem alien to me.

One of the things that stands out is the amount of time we spend working. It seems to me that the minimum hours of work required to sustain the base level quality of life is about 40 hours a week. As Americans we dedicate over a third of our waking moments to our professions. I took note that there are 112 active hours in a week, of which 40, not including transportation time, is dedicated to work. For those that love their jobs and are passionate about what they do I would imagine this is not a noteworthy statement. But for the rest of us, which I'm starting to gather is the majority of the working class, we are left too drained to actively pursue the things that would add joy to our lives. Thus the amount of hours it takes of work to stay afloat is not the issue, but the impact of something that literally takes up at least a third of your life is tightly bound to your mental and emotional well being. In other words, to maintain a healthy level of mental and emotional well being there would need to be an allotted amount of time for work matched with an equal or greater amount of time granted for the pursuit of actual happiness.

Regardless of the contents of my dream, the fact that work is haunting me not only after hours but also on the weekend is a major red flag for me. While in active addiction I always thought clean time, mixed with good decisions, mixed with living a normal life would equal happiness. I've quickly been learning that that is not the case. After having conversations with some "normal people" that I know, it has occurred to me that we are not meant to be happy. Any time I raise concerns about my job and how its effecting my mental health I get the same response, "welcome to the working world", "just do what your supervisor tells you no matter if you understand why it's being asked of you", and this is my least favorite "if you work, work , work, eventually you'll work your way into a better situation". 'A happier situation' I often wonder to myself, no one has ever said I can work my way into happiness, just alluded to the possibility of a better situation. It dawned on me that the participants of the American system have, at some point along the line, abandoned the idea that not only was happiness achievable but that it was something that you could work towards. There also seems to be an unspoken agreement between us and large corporations that says we will be grateful for the opportunity to work for them regardless of whether or not the wages are fair, so long as we can survive and not deal with the anxiety of being in between jobs. Speaking for myself, that's the main reason I stay. What if I take a leap of faith and end up somewhere worse? Yikes.

It's hard to believe that the average annual income in 1950 was $3,300, and with that you could own and home and easily provide for your family. Over the past 70 years or so inflation kind of just crept in on us to the point where we can barely do either of those things with 10 times as much. I don't know enough about economics to factor in production costs and the value of currency and things like that but it doesn't take a math whiz to see that that is some bullcrap. To add to that, the super rich are using loopholes to dodge paying their fair share in taxes while the working class not only foots the bill financially but also dedicates over a third of their day, almost daily, to using skills, time, and energy to feed and maintain this machine. And by structural design and cultural agreement and person that does not conform or contribute is cast into the shadow of society with the rest of the unseen.

If I sound like a disgruntled employee right now, it's because I am. Further, I'm a disgruntled citizen. I'm still fairly new to this world and I'm trying my best to understand it in a way that will help me comfortably assimilate. At first, I thought it was only hard for me because I had a lot to learn, but after multiple conversations I realized that although I may have a lot of mental problems, life is also tough for almost everyone I know, many of which have either never committed a crime or used a heavy narcotic or haven't in a long time. This realization has had both negative and positive affects on my mentality as it relates to me and the man that I am becoming. On the one hand, its not just me and I'm not alone in feeling like this. There's nothing wrong with me, per se. At least on that note. But on the same hand it's not just me, and this is pretty much what we all have to deal with. There's no easy fix and then all of a sudden Boom! happy. It takes a lot of work, but as long as it's a possibility I will keep trying to figure out a way to find it. I guess I'm still finding my footing and learning as I grow. This has been another documentation of my so far failed attempts at assimilation. I have a lot to learn but one thing I do know is that even though I'm no longer taking penitentiary chances or gambling with my life I'm still on the wrong track if I'm en route to a meaningful and fulfilling life, but I'm getting there.