One week. One week back in my cesspit hole of a job to feel myself start to tip off the side of sanity all over again.
I hate it. I hate my job so much it infects me. It putrefies my thoughts and tears tiny bits of my soul away, day by day. I can feel myself erupting on the inside over nothing. Something someone says, an insignificant remark makes my mind seethe and my blood burn with angry lust.
I am becoming scarred with bitter frustration.
I am broken.
I have a new boss, and he asked me this week after hearing my story if I had any fight left in me.
“you do don’t you… have fight left in you?” He asked me expectantly.
I just turned my head away. Biting back the tears.
” I don’t know”
And I really don’t know.
My old boss stole my confidence, and crushed my creativity.
” The thing is Sach…” He would say patronisingly.
“You got a big personality. You just need to be a bit less Sacha… you know?”
He hated me. He hated what I represented and made sure I knew it.
I am disgusted with myself that I could let a man beat me down and crush me the way he did, the way work has.
He left, but I have given up. I have nothing left, no fight, no drive, no ambition.
My entire being is bruise and I am exhausted.
I am Sacha, and I am beautiful, but, I am utterly broken.