I decided to call that moment a 'setback'.
In the seven years I've spent in the video industry, I've lost count of how many times things were honestly tough.
However, there is only one moment I can clearly identify as a 'setback' for myself. It was when I was completely left behind by the way television works.
Up until now, I had been a person from the so-called “online side” of things, like video streaming and YouTube. I think I mostly worked in environments with small teams, a certain degree of freedom, and above all, a premise of 'balancing work with life'.
The greatness of the television work style
Of course, it's not an easy job, but there was always a sense of humanity left in it. The year is 2025. I joined a media company founded by people from television. Everything about the way I had worked until then changed.
14-hour workdays, 25 days of operation per month, and not sleeping or taking breaks was the default on set.
Volume of voice and physical stamina were everything. It was a world where you created videos through sheer willpower.
'So this is what "real video" is...' I thought at first.
It's frustrating to admit, but I was overwhelmed. The directing and composition skills during filming were better than anything else. They were incredibly smart, and the sense of speed was amazing.
I also understood that this is what the online world aiming for television looks like.
I thought that as soon as I joined, but I realized it two weeks later.
'Wait? It hasn't even been a month yet...'
I was outputting at a tremendous speed, doing casting, editing, and filming. I was truly handling a high volume, and I felt my body and mind couldn't keep up.
I would go home late at night, sleep without taking a bath, and head straight back to work when I woke up.
I heard that in real television production, you can't even go home, so I had developed a crazy mindset that I was lucky just to be able to go home.
Work fun x physical stamina = you can become a TV professional.
I felt that I didn't have the 'stamina'. I don't have the physical strength to keep doing this job for more than a year.
The work is fun, but when the work stops and I return to a human life, I am plagued by the feeling of 'What have I been doing all this time?'
When I think about living a human life, I could no longer stand on just the 'desire to create videos'.
And above all, what shocked me was—
that I truly felt from the bottom of my heart that the videos created with that work style were genuinely interesting.
I realized I couldn't produce that with my own hands, physically. When I thought that, I felt a great sense of setback.
I decided I would step away from creative work. That's what I thought.
The more I obsessed over it, the more dopamine I felt in my brain, driving a sense of euphoria; it was very fun. On the other hand, I want to live a normal life. That life is far removed from this. Creative work can only be made by superhumans who are detached from ordinary life.
That's how I felt.
I quit. I decided to aim for a job where I could chase numbers in a different way.
The birth of an unemployed person
Of course, if someone told me I was being naive, that would be the end of it. I know there are countless people who have been working in the television industry much longer than I have.
It must have been even tougher for those working at TV stations.
I was working on 2 to 3 projects a week, 25 days a month, for 14 hours a day. Maybe it was better than those who couldn't go home at all?
But it was no way for a human to live.
And above all, besides finding video production interesting, I also had a strong desire to 'make money.' I think I was probably paid better than most, but I wanted more.
I love video, and I love business. I think there was always going to be a moment when I had to step away from video.
That was my 'setback.' Now, I am a 29-year-old unemployed person who is nobody. (I became a company employee in July.)
I don't have a title I can put on a resume, and I have no experience as a full-time employee. Aiming for a career change into a business position, I kept submitting applications, getting rejected, applying again, and getting rejected again.
But if I hadn't experienced that 'setback,' I think I would still be pushing myself to work hard in the video industry even now.
I felt the setback most acutely when I watched this video and felt something snap inside me.
The video industry is a specialized field, and everyone is sharp, a hard worker, and a multitasker. They are incredibly capable.
However, switching to the business side is also difficult. It is a job that doesn't offer many transferable skills.
Making videos is a luxury, it's interesting, but it's also difficult.
In an era where anyone can easily upload videos, it might be a necessary skill, but to make a living at it for the rest of your life, you need an incredible amount of 'physical stamina'.
That was my limit. I'm glad I got to know the upper limit of my physical stamina.
Because I finally knew my limits, I feel like I've finally reached the 'starting line'.
I don't know if this note will reach anyone's heart. But one thing I can say is that a 'setback' is not the end.
Rather, I think it was a necessary blow to help me regain control of my life's steering wheel.
Next time, I will compete in a different way. Rebuilding my body and mind once again.
I intend to write about what happens from here on out in my notes.
