Countdown to Quitting My Job Episode 3: That Day, Only the Washing Machine Was Running.

A month before I resigned, something started to feel wrong.

Things I had always been able to do naturally suddenly became confusing.
At work, I started skipping confirmation steps. Small mistakes increased. I couldn't manage my time well. New information wouldn't sink in.
Before I knew it, I was having short bursts of zoning out while on the clock.

And, making decisions started to take a strange amount of time.

Not about big decisions, either.
For example, when I thought about cleaning and doing laundry on my day off, I wouldn't know which one to start with.
Usually, I would vacuum while the washing machine was running. I couldn't even do that much anymore.
Because my body would stop before I could even think about what I wanted to do.

While I was thinking with a brain that wouldn't start up properly, I'd realize I was watching completely unrelated videos.
Somewhere in my heart, I vaguely thought it was like I was running away.
But I hated acknowledging my inability to do things in words, so I tried not to think about it.

In the end, that day, only the washing machine was running. The vacuum cleaner remained quietly asleep in the corner of the room.

The room gradually became messy. I stopped paying attention to my appearance as well.
Everything felt like a chore, and the feeling of not knowing where to start spread throughout my daily life.

Around that time, strangely, my motivation for creative work didn't disappear.
I'll research this on my day off, I'll try drawing this. Once I quit, I'll make that. I want to try this too.
Only my mind was always very busy.

But when the day off came and I actually tried to move my hands, my body and mind would lock up tight. Just like a toy that had run out of batteries.
This is what it means to be pressing the accelerator and the brake at the same time.
That state would continue for a while even after I quit.

The busy days continued as usual. I'll be able to rest once I quit, so I'll do my best until then. It's just fatigue. That's what I thought.

Looking back, that must have been a sign.
Maybe my body was saying, 'I've reached my limit.' But I didn't understand that at the time.
I just felt like I was becoming more and more useless, and I only felt anxious.

...No, maybe I knew somewhere, but if I admitted it now, I would collapse all at once. So, perhaps I was pretending not to notice.

Before I knew it, I couldn't make myself smile without being conscious of it.

When you push yourself too hard, these things happen.

Before your energy or physical strength, something quietly and surely starts to break.

To be continued