How I Self-Sabotaged My Way Into Midlife

And how fear helped me break the cycle

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I’m sitting in a small office, under neon lights, at a desk full of papers.

What would happen if I threw all these papers in the bin, walked out, and never returned? I wonder.

I often wonder, but I know I will never do anything like that.

I’m too responsible. Too polite. Too little willing to do something so reckless, even though I want it with all my heart.

Through the smeared window glass, I see two tall poplar trees. Behind them is a railroad. Behind it — green hills. I used to ride my bike past those hills. In another life.

I can hear the traffic noise. People talking on the street.

I see birds flying across the sky. They are free.

Three more hours until I get out of here.

I’ve been counting the hours for years. Stuck in a job I don’t like and which has so little to do with my interests and knowledge. I’ve been counting the hours since I first entered this dark building with dirty windows and dark corridors thirteen years ago.

It’s been easier lately. Freedom is within reach. In a few months, I will start doing what I love and what I have finally gotten back to. But sometimes, as…