The Emotional Toll No One Warns You About

The one thing about being a creative or an over-thinker (or possibly having ADD or ADHD) is that when you are doing one thing, you can easily be distracted or lose your train of thought. When I wrote my last piece, I was dealing with insomnia, not being able to sleep, feverishly typing on my phone. I eventually fell asleep, knowing that I would continue the article the following day. But when I did resume, I had this sentiment, almost a gut feeling that something was missing. It wasn’t until the past 24 hours that it hit me. While I expressed my frustration the past 8 months and primarily the journey that lead me to make the decision to no longer pursue a traditional job, I hadn’t really expressed my emotions outside of that experience.

And so, that is what this is. Life is funny in a way. As someone who has been vocal to others that they should embrace the ideology of expression; when it comes to myself, I keep things to my chest. Not to be secretive or cold like they falsely accuse Aquarians to be, but more so from the rationale of “You don’t give a fuck” or “They can’t help me anyways”. I think it is more so the latter of being hyper-independent. A concept I didn’t really think about until the past year or so. I really much prefer figuring things out on my own cause of being let down in the past. That said, it is extremely unhealthy to burden yourself with every emotion you may experience. One should have friends or family or a therapist to unpack their thoughts. I’m unemployed so can’t afford to speak to my therapist, my family is full of Haitian immigrants who have no clue what it is like to navigate America as a millennial (in fact I got a text from my mom last night that fell under the “i know you hate when I say this one specific thing but I will repeat again cause fuck what you said or feel” category). And my friends are all going through it, trying to navigate the current state of affairs.

So I guess this void… this space… this article… is my friend to express my thoughts. For context, I held my first job EVER way back in the summer 2002. The good ol summer job program. Working at Brooklyn Family Court in Downtown Brooklyn. Those next 3 years of high school I never worked a summer job again. It wasn’t until my sophomore year in college, I was able to get a job at Starbucks in the Upper West Side. From 2007 up until 2013, I held a job. Jumping from industry to industry, in some cases returning back to previous employers. I was let go a week before Christmas from a copy shop by Columbia University in 2013 (Chase ended up buying the building and closing the copy shop down… good for that heffa) and for a couple months I was unemployed until I got hired by a corporate solutions company in 2014. From then I kept maneuvering until I resigned from my marketing job last December (which I documented here).

Not counting the two months of unemployment, that is essentially 17 years being employed. Clocking in and clocking out. Day shift, mid shift, night shift, overnight. Shortened hours, overtime, part-time, full time… you name it, I’ve probably done it. But these past 8 months, have been some of the most challenging and confusing time in my life. The immediate thought or emotions that comes to my mind is the famous Jim Jones & Funk Flex interview.

While he is primarily talking about the relationships in his life, the thing that stands out is the idea of sacrifice and how hard one works to achieve anything in life. And as expected in life there are moments of glory and there are setbacks. The thing is no matter what, you can not necessarily control if & when either of those things happen. The idea that is most traumatizing for me is the idea of loss. I come from much humble beginnings. I was fortunate enough to grow up in a loving home but it is not like my parents were well off in any capacity. Yea we may have been “middle class” by U.S. standards but that is a facade to an extent. That said, I brought up my hyper-independence prior, in those years of jumping between jobs and trying to figure out life in my late 20s and early 30s there were moments of uncertainty, of hopelessness, and fear. But by 2018 (31 at the time) I got into the tech space. Think I was salaried at $45K (which high-key is inhumane but thats another story), but getting a job in tech as someone who only held an Associate’s Degree in Business Administration & Management, I thought I made the big leagues. Over those next four years, they would increase the salaries to reflect the market (still underpaid but I digress) and then I made the biggest decision ever in 2021.

I left New York City.

If you know me in general or especially around that time, I could not fathom the idea of leaving NYC. People (white transplants) are shacking up in cubicles with like 8 roommates to get that NYC experience (& also ruin it as well), so why would I leave? At this point, the vaccine was out in surplus, we were heading into the summer of 2021 and people were OUTSIDE. At this point I was living in brownstone in BedStuy with roommates and not only was I over sharing space, I was over the 3AM disturbance as an event space was built a couple buildings over leading to late night parties on top of not being too far from Woodhull hospital so ambulances would use my one-way street as their primary route to get around.

So I decided that NJ was the next destination for me. It was an offer I couldn't refuse: “luxury” building, 24/7 concierge, laundry room, gym, package room, shuttle bus to the path train, entertainment center, BBQ grills for the summer, etc. And if you follow me on social, I was blessed with the most amazing view of the NYC skyline. And I have called this place home for the past 5 years. And that has been the part that has made this transition most scary. Getting off the path train at Hoboken, seeing all the young (privileged) professionals commuting to and from, all probably living in these overpriced condos and luxury buildings, I often think to myself, how did I get here? Yes, I earned it but I couldn’t have imagined this would of been my life at one point. So to now reach this pinnacle (for now) and to think how it could be taken away from me simply put, scares the fuck outta me.

When I resigned, I took a couple weeks to myself as well as enjoying the holiday with family. But once January hit, I was applying as often as I could, while also growing my YouTube show Where’s The Remote? (go subscribe). And I was good at first, really staying in tune with my routine: gym, shower, breakfast, job hunt, prep for the show. Rinse & repeat, every single day. And as each day would pass, rejection email after rejection email after rejection email. And then there would be days where I wouldn’t apply to anything, trying to not overexert myself. And in a blink of eye January turned to February, February turned to March. And with each day, each week, each month, the rejection emails would come through all times of day and night. And my mental would deteriorate simultaneously. Probably the biggest lesson I learned (thanks to others experiencing the same via TikTok) is how important your routine is. But with going in and out of depression, I would not visit the gym as often as I should. Would lounge around in my home until it is time to record an episode or spend hours trying to find the right job to apply to or applying to shit I am well over qualified for just to make sure I bring some money in. I would lock back in once its time to record but I had little time to myself where I was experiencing joy or not thinking about what I am doing wrong where I am not getting hired.

This period has come with isolation and asceticism. Because of who I am, how I carry myself, there is a standard I exhibit not only because of my own self-worth but for those I keep around me. I like convenience, I like comfort. I don’t do things half-assed. I am not a big spender but I am not cheap. Typically when I hang out with my friends, either we split the bill or I cover the costs. If I invite friends over, I typically cook some sort of elaborate meal. Those things have been out of the question. I stopped dating in December and haven’t even considered speaking to another soul since then. The last recreational thing I did for myself was attend a comedy show headlined by Hassan Phills. I think this was in March or April. During the Knicks title run, I would tell myself to go to the city to feel the high of NYC. That never happened as I stayed indoors for each playoff game. I had purchased tickets to see J. Cole at MSG for The Fall Off Tour and I skipped that. My favorite artist, an artist I have never seen live before, I skipped a few weeks ago cause not only was money tight but I was in a horrid mental space and no desire to get up, get dressed and head to midtown. I would see attendees across the country recording their experience at the concerts and I would remember how I opted out. Every video I would see, I’d ask myself:

You think you get to celebrate anything, with no job? What you got to celebrate for?

Subconsciously questioning myself, am I worthy of love, of companionship, of fun, of experiencing life because my biggest responsibility, maintaining my livelihood, has been slipping through my grasps each day. I don’t want to go out feeling guilty that I needed to save every penny to manage my bills cause the next time I get paid would barely cover a cell phone bill. Or trying to take a woman out on a date knowing going out would cost roughly $250+. Go on any of the social media apps to see women discuss how men knowingly not in a financial place to date try to take them out. I do not want to be another example. But it makes things so lonely at times. And even if those individuals do not care and value your companionship more than anything, its just not the standard I set for myself so I rather not indulge.

And that is the part they do not tell you and something I wish I would have saw or heard more at the early days of taking this leap of faith. How you need to prioritize your routine, how you need to still prioritize human connection, need to prioritize fun and the whimsical and still experience life. Cause this is by far the most difficult year of my life. Turning the big 4–0 next year and I would have never thought to be in this position before or ever. I have developed a livelihood that I always wanted and now it is being threatened because I chose mental and physical health over the security of a consistent check because some white people back in the day determined what “professional” is and how B2B relationships are really just master & slave dynamics with a paycheck.

And as I type this I am still in a state of confusion, of conflicting emotions, of uncertainty. Cause even through these dark times, working on Where’s The Remote? has kept me sane. I have developed so many skills in video editing that I did not have prior. Most recently, we have had guests on the show and been making some lovely connections in the community. We had a TikTok go viral earlier in the year. Some crazy “universe is speaking to you” moments that I won’t get into and just connecting with people overall. And having something that I thoroughly enjoy, am passionate about and stimulates me has kept me in such a positive frame of mind when I am not thinking about the other state of affairs.

As we start a new week, I am trying to get back to my routine of working out and treating my body better. Something I should of been more strict about knowing how much working out greatly benefited my mental. And everything else, not sure how I will figure it out, but something has to give. I don’t want to lose my home, I don’t want to move back in with family or elsewhere. I want to get my life back to what it was prior to taking the leap of faith… and maybe that’s the thing, I need to establish a new normal and forget what I had and focus on what the future will look like.