'I had a group of of people around me, and we used to moan about work all the time. Who could you share how you're feeling with? What would allow you to be authentic, find some relief and start creating solutions, even in a small way? Maybe you can't be entirely open about how you're feeling, all the time, but you can probably share the load with someone at work: an understanding colleague or a supportive boss. It's what turns 'I don't love my job' into 'I cannot stand this life any longer'. This inauthenticity is at the core of most people's frustration with their work. It's been an insidious creep of inauthenticity, and it's eating you from the inside out.

And as the cracks have slowly grown, so has the amount of time you're pasting a smile over the top of disinterest and frustration. And that's not who you are.īut you started doing it in small ways a long time ago: papering over the cracks. Your whole day is a series of little lies. When your boss asks who'd like to take on that desperately boring project that you just know will be a train wreck before it's even started, you put your hand up, right?

You say a cheery 'Hello!' to your colleagues. And on top of all of that… you smile anyway, don't you? You have to push yourself to get anything done.

You walk into the office and you feel heavy and tired before you've even sat down. You get up every day and force yourself into your commute.

Your skills aren't being used properly.īut, underneath all of those explicit items on your list, there's something else going on, too.

If I asked you what you hated about your work, I bet you'd be able to reel off a long list of things. Here are some strategies from real-life career changers on how they endured (and in some cases actually learned to enjoy) the jobs they weren't ready to leave. What do you do if you're not ready to make your shift, but the day-to-day grind is driving you up the wall? I hated where I was, but I couldn't leave. I was stuck, inert, in a torturous state of suspension. I planned and daydreamed endlessly of the moment when I'd put my things away at my desk and stand up from that chair for the very last time. Nights of lying awake, running circles in my head, desperately trying to think of a way out. There were commutes when I did an extra lap of the roundabout, just to delay my arrival at the office by ten more seconds.ĭays of clock watching, wondering how it was possible that only four minutes had passed since I last glanced up. There were mornings when I had to pep-talk myself into getting out of bed.

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