I wanted to write about this for some time now. I guess I just wanted to let it hatch for a while. But today somebody told me something that made me think about it again.

How many times haven’t I thought of quitting ? (haven’t we all ?)

Every single time I am down by some reason, big or small, be it personal or professional, I find myself thinking of quitting and trying something else. It’s normal I guess. Even when I’m pretty close to actually doing it, I still know “it’s just a phase, you’ll get over it”. It’s annoying to be a rational person. You spoil your own fun most of the time. Always analyzing.

Quitting is pretty much like saying “I won’t drink again”. But you never really quit drinking (well, at least most of us). Just because you felt bad once, twice, that doesn’t mean you’re going to give up. You just bow in front of “the porcelain god” and start all over again next time.

Quitting your job. Oh the joy of it :) Nothing compares to the feeling that you’re going to be free soon. You go to work with a smirk on your face every day. You enjoy being nice, helpful, even if they treated you badly, even if they don’t understand their bussiness, their job. You smile, knowing that you are already free. After all, what can they do ? Fire you ? Hahahahahaha.
But then, you might have the job you wanted, you hoped for. It’s inevitable – like Agent Smith says – that sooner or later you’ll think about quitting again. There is no such thing as a “dream job”. It’s either them proving to be less than expected, it’s either you, feeling the worst looser from your profession. But you’ll get ofer it. You usually do.

Quitting people. That’s big. Caring for someone means you are giving away a part of you. A part you can never get back if you decide to quit. That’s why it hurts. It’s that simple.
People change. A friend told me that women change completly after seeing their name written on that paper, next to yours. Then you start thinking about quitting. Again. Sometimes you quit just because you’re too tired of trying not to quit. Sometimes you want to quit, you know it’s what you should do, but you just can’t. Just because you don’t want to quit, you change. You learn to like new things, you learn to actually show through many means that you care. At least you should try to. Otherwise you’ll be quitting in no time. Or the other will. Which brings you to the other big thing.

Quitting yourself. Your own way of living, of dreaming, of spending your free time, of talking and interacting with people. Every time I decide to do something different I quit my old self. So quitting is definitely good sometimes. But not easy. Sometimes you just don’t want to. You are, after all, your worst enemy, critique, client. Your own nemesis.
Quitting your own false friendliness. If only I could do that more often. But it takes courage to be painfully sincere. Although it’s such a good strategy. Nobody expects it, so they’ll be off guard when you lay it all out, not hiding.
Quitting your inner child. Do that and you’re dead. You might look alive, but you really aren’t. You’re just a shell. No ghost, just a shell. Only children love. Adults like. Admire. Grow fond of. Get used to. But never love. So I feed my child. I take care of it’s fantasies. I let him dream. Play. And I love people who do the same with their child. I’m drawn to them. I admire them. They are so few.
Some children are sad, though. Sick. And a whole lot more are dead.

Why do I quit ? Or why don’t I ? Because of hope and courage. When I don’t have hope, I make it up. While grinding my teeth, of course. And I keep going. When I have courage, I cut my hope down and live on, finding another hope. And there’s the third, don’t-wanna-talk-’bout-it, option. Lack of both hope and courage. When you just let yourself drift, too tired, too broken to care where you are going. Rambling, waiting for some hope to find you, or some courage to save you.

One way or the other, you keep going. You have to, time doesn’t stop for getting up and dusting yourself. In the long run, we’re all dead, right? Might as well try something till then.

A teacher told me once: “Bati campii cu gratie” (pretty close to “you’re beating around the bush gracefully”). Guess she was right. But I won’t quit that either. Not yet.

(Thanks Guerri Night for providing the mood)