Failure

I received word today that I didn't get into the second teaching course I applied for.

To say I’m not surprised is true, to say I’m miserable, perhaps also true, but mostly I’m terrified. Teaching was my practical option. My sensible choice. It was the thing that I figured I would enjoy and was the most likely to be successful of any of my courses of action. Now it has fallen through. I am completely without anchor because I’d convinced myself not to plan for every eventuality. I have no plan B at this stage, nothing to push me forward.

All other ideas of what would make me happy are not practical. I have spent many hours pouring over what I would like to be doing and none are financially viable:

I want another degree – I feel I wasted a lot of my 1^st degree and although I enjoyed the creative based work I would like to do something more theory based. The problem with this is that it would cost way more money than I could ever think to afford.

I want to write – If I could make a living from writing my life would be wonderful. It is my dream to be able to write knowing I didn’t need any other form of income. This is problematic as it is highly unlikely to ever happen. Even if I manage to get published it is unlikely to bring me large enough sums of money to make ends meet.

I want an MA – Again my need for intellectual stimulation rears its ugly head. What I would really like is to push through to PHD level and teach University level students. The problem with this is again financial. It would cost a lot more than I could find to do this. It is not an option.

I love designing and making things – I have been making handmade baby clothes the past few weeks as something to fill my time. I have booked a table at some small craft fairs over the next few months to see if they sell. I love doing this, it feels so calming but this is also not a practical way of making money. My output on making these things is not enough to make any decent money from them. It’s a nice supplement to any income but not an income in it’s own right.

These are all I have left in my list of things I would enjoy doing, none of which are practical options. I know I can’t go back to working in an office again it just kills me physically and mentally. Shops are also a no no because of my ME (I have trouble shopping in shops on my own let alone working in one).

I keep reaching, trying to find a solution, an option of some kind that is not going to make me ill and I come back with nothing. Where I go from here I don’t know and that scares the hell out of me.