When to call it quits

Giving up isn’t a bad thing

I had something else planned for this week’s post but this week has been a dumpster fire crashing through the waves of a cesspool whirlpool. It was one of those weeks where the respite just did not come. It was incessant shit from all angles to the nth degree.

It made me think, how bad does something have to get before you call it quits? 

I don’t want to toot my own ‘woe is me’ horn but the universe has orchestrated some less than desirable experiences for me in my 29 years around the big blazing ball of gas.

As a result, my scale for determining how bad something is, is slightly skewed. I undervalue how awful an experience is because I subconsciously (unconsciously?) compare it to something worse. Like a slap isn’t too bad compared to a knuckle-duster punch to the face, but a slap is still bad. Context matters. Perspective matters. But those two have a habit of playing ‘hide and fucking seek bitch’ with me.

This week was like the kitchen scene from Mrs Doubtfire. A hateful crescendo of pots viciously bubbling away on all 4 stoves, boiling over in vengeful cascades, mass basil emancipation from the shaker into the meat, potatoes doggy paddling all over the kitchen floor, all leading to the flaming finale of rubber breasts ablaze. It was a lot. 

Unfortunately I am someone who works well under pressure, and by that I mean I will get the job done and even try to exceed expectations. This is a good trait to have in terms of a productivity catalyst but it sets a dangerous precedent that can and most likely will 100% be exploited. It’s typically in someone’s interest to get the most they can out of a person. Like trying to squeeze every last drop of water out of a rag cloth. I’m the rag cloth.

It got to Friday early evening and there was something on my to-do list that was only partially complete. 

I had two choices: Complete the work or close my laptop 

I hazily lifted my tapped out little hands and let them drop to shut the laptop. I was so drained that my natural inclination to tick off my to-dos was nowhere in sight. I just wanted to coop up in a blanket on the sofa with Khleo and the bf. I didn’t care for dinner, a snack or even a cup of tea to soothe myself. I was physically and mentally done. The tank was empty.

How had I let myself get to this level of exhaustion? 

Like I mentioned earlier, I had set a precedent. What do I need to do now? Boundaries. 

The theme of boundaries pops up in a few of my posts so it's actually nuts that I had let them slip away from me recently. Boundaries exist to protect me from a lot of bullshit but I was working so hard that the idea of asserting my boundaries felt like an additional task that I did not have the energy for. How sad is that? To feel so consumed by life that lifting your voice to say, “No that doesn’t work for me” is too strenuous. The idea of someone pushing back on my push back, having to meticulously pre-plan my talking points (my defence really), psyche myself up to confront potential hostility and expect long lasting animosity off the back of it...it was easier to just let it happen. 

Another thing that feeds into this is being in an environment where you will be asserting your boundaries in perpetuity because they’re not respected, so you have to keep reinforcing them. By that point, will you be deemed the problem for having a problem with the problem?

So, when do you call it quits? When do you give up on a venture that is causing more harm than good? How do you throw something away when you don’t know if something better will come along? Is the certainty of knowing to expect less than favourable circumstances better than the uncertainty of what’s out there?

I think the answer to the above is to remove what is hurting you so you can open yourself up to the possibilities of something better. Something healthier. You can cut and run or silently plan and wait for your moment to make a swift exit. A situation shouldn’t have to become catastrophic to prompt the ‘Should I stay or should I go’ question. There’s usually a series of precursory signals that serve as warnings before the decline into catastrophe.  

If you’ve been innovative and creative with your solutions, you’ve done the give and take, you’ve followed through and you’ve given something your all, it's ok to walk away. Even if you haven’t given everything but something feels like an utterly useless endeavour, it's still ok to leave.  

There’s a shame associated with ‘giving up’ and an intrinsic sense that you’re throwing something of worth away. All that time and energy spent for what? To be thrown away? What a waste! Not necessarily. Experience is valuable. Experience can deter you from shit situations and shit people. Knowing your energy is better placed elsewhere saves you a lot of pain in the long run.