they ask me what i do and who i do it for

Okay, I’ll say it. I’m pretty sure I’m depressed. A long winter is finally ending, and the sun is shining down and making a life outside more appealing again, but my motivation to socialize is still low. Why? Well, there are a few reasons, but they do all add up to one diagnosis of depression.

A few months ago, I was feeling fairly secure in my work, albeit not creatively fulfilled. But I had something somewhat steady, for a freelance gig at least, that I was good at, and that I felt good about. And I felt I was making myself pretty indispensable. But then I was dispensed of with no warning, just before the holidays. I tried to spin it into a positive–more free time to write and work on freelance writing and pursue my passions. But pursuing your passions isn’t a top priority when you’re wondering how you’re going to make money that month. As someone who has rarely had steady employment and been a freelancer by necessity for most of my career, I learned early on to save, a lot. Which is a relieving cushion to have, but not one I ever want to rely on. I want to work. I want to be making things that make people think, I want to be contributing to conversations and to society at large.

In any case, a lack of steady income is one reason to want to stay inside. Another is the fact that having a lack of prospects means catching up with people will end up being a depressing conversation, or worse, a faux positive one.

Unfortunately, I have found that when trying to talk to people about being creatively unfulfilled and about the ways a career in media has let me down, a lot of them simply don’t get it.

It baffles me whenever I think of where I started and where I am now, and how similar both places seem to be, despite tons of zig-zagging in the many years between. To be a creative in this ever-evolving landscape, constantly changing for the worst due to social media and the internet at large, you’re required to adapt, adapt, adapt. And if you aren’t ten steps ahead, you’re twenty steps behind.

Some well-meaning friends or colleagues have suggestions like, “Why don’t you self-publish a book? I know someone who did that,” or “You should start a podcast or a Youtube channel!” They don’t really grasp how difficult it is to build an audience or what kind of work I want to be doing, and how that kind of work does not really lend itself to the world of self-publishing.

As someone who did PR for a hot minute, I am familiar with the act of putting something out just to look good to people who don’t understand the business. That has never appealed to me on a personal level. I want to impress smart people who have thrived in media, not people who are so far removed that they lack media literacy. I don’t want to be a spin doctor, overselling the actual merits of my career to the idiotic masses, just to pretend like I’m doing something important. I want to be honest and I want to be proud of my work.

When I look at the state of media and jobs in a broader sense, seeing actors who were once known for respectable roles playing the comedic relief in the latest cheesy Netflix movie or show, I feel both comforted and disturbed. We’re all being hit hard by the changes inflicted upon us by those in power who would rather invest in influencer culture than actual culture. Maybe the biggest difference is that when they take on more work they aren’t particularly proud of, or do ads for weird mobile games, they’re doing it out of a need to support the lifestyle they grew accustomed to, while I am too scared to even start trying to give myself the lifestyle I aspire to, because the well could run out at any moment.

Realistically, I could just blow through my savings and start trying to live a life that feels more like the one I thought I’d be living by now, and hope that in the year (or probably less, honestly) that the savings run dry, I’ve managed to find a way to maintain my new lifestyle. But being in this industry for as long as I have, that just doesn’t sound like a smart plan at all. And I am someone with nothing to fall back on–no family home I could crash at, no family member I could borrow money from, no spouse with a steady income to keep me afloat while I try new things.

Another thing well-meaning people try to say is that trying something new all comes down to having faith in yourself. But faith in myself does not equate to faith in getting paid, whether it be by a large publication or a subscriber of a newsletter. While seeing writers I admire shift into running successful newsletters is inspiring, the newsletter culture as a whole reminds me of that post about a friend group Venmo-ing each other the same $5 over and over. Our ability to support each other relies on our ability to garner outside support.

Like many of my age-mates across different fields, but especially media, I mourn the life I thought I’d be living by now. This is made even worse by the fact that it’s not only my professional career that’s disappointed me; my personal life also hasn’t shaken out the way I expected it to.

When I first tried starting a newsletter, it was 2020 and COVID was effectively shutting the world down. I lost my first post-grad job as a result, but that also meant I was eligible to collect unemployment. Being on unemployment was the steadiest income stream I ever had, in the sense that I knew how much I’d be getting paid each week. Writing flowed so freely when I wasn’t weighed down by the pressure of having to secure enough work to pay my bills with my pitches. The differences between then and now are vast, but the biggest one remains that the smidgen of financial freedom I hate at that moment was a portal to unabridged creativity that is seemingly impossible to access when you don’t know where your money is gonna come from next month or how much work you’ll be able to lock in–not to mention what rates you’ll be able to secure and when you can expect your invoices to be paid.

Having morals and a conscience and also, just being a bit of a snob, there is much suggested work that I turn my nose up at. I am a self-starter by necessity, not by nature, and I don’t really consider myself to be someone with an “entrepreneurial spirit.” I don’t want to sell anyone anything. I don’t want to be a business owner. I don’t want to create an e-book to shill. I just want to write.

But beyond that, I just want to have a dependable income and to feel like my work over the last ten plus years has paid off and got me somewhere. I want to be proud of myself and have something to show for my efforts when I’m forced to make small talk with people I don’t know well or catch up with someone I haven’t seen in years, who is gainfully employed and married with kids.

There isn’t really a point to this, so sorry if you were expecting one. It isn’t a cry for help or a plea for pity, it’s just reality. I happen to know I’m not alone here and felt like talking about it.

If anyone needs me, I’ll be Googling scholarships for PhDs and graduate degrees in social work.

In other news:

I was feeling a little under the weather this past weekend and took the opportunity of not leaving my bed to catch up on TV. And yet, I still haven’t started Severance. I did however binge Running Point on Netflix which was more charming and fun than expected, despite having way too many COVID jokes which are almost always cheap and not funny, as well as Deli Boys on Hulu which was not at all what I expected but was a thrilling ride with a great cast. I also am mildly ashamed to admit that I have been watching Degrassi since a Youtube channel that plays it on a live stream daily graced my Youtube homepage and it makes me wonder if I’ll ever get tired of watching Degrassi, since it’s something I’ve been watching since I was like, 11. It is really one of those shows where it feels different with every rewatch, though sometimes it just makes me want to a funny line from an episode to my sister or childhood best friend. In my most recent Seasons 5-6 rewatch, I’m noticing how cartoonishly evil Jay is, literally just popping up out of nowhere to be the bad influence on someone in every other episode. I could write a blog recapping every Degrassi season if I really felt like it, and who knows, I might.

As for music, I’ve been listening to Norman Fucking Rockwell (the album) on repeat as well as my rap-heavy gym playlist, and I just really appreciate that Tyler, the Creator has so many of the best modern female rappers on Chromakopia.