The Ultimate Fruit of Fear

The ultimate fruit of fear is when it makes you believe that you have disappeared and that you are only a ghost of what you could be, a visual residue of an extinct potential, the withered ambition of a being that wishes to exist. I decided then to forget about my desires, my needs, my desires, and even my dreams.

They had become expensive, and I didn't have enough to pay their price. I would soon discover that in addition to this, I would also run out of complaints and my voice would go out.

Because even the desire to regret me is over; and this is the thing, it is simpler to get used to the loss that to fight by the conquest.

I guess this was what happened to Job; by the time his pseudo friends came to visit him and crush him for his supposed infidelities and sins (all of them, reasons for his misfortune), he simply stopped talking, stopped complaining.

I had the initiative of two new attempts as a saleswoman but it was just as fruitless. Once again I stumbled upon a wall.

The first one referred to a scheduled sale of vehicles but for a day of absence due to a cold I was off the workforce and in the second I moved to the coast to sell Tourist plots, however, I only got a three (3) walk-days in which I heard my nth workshop on how to sell something, but, without allowing myself to approach buyers, because that was reserved for the ancients. I thought then that I should take some time in my marathon hunt for finding a job, and especially to keep it.

I was supposed to put my life in perspective, as some people say, in order to weigh the positive and the negative in the perfect balance. So, I spent some time at home, reconsidering my steps and my future.

At that time, my father came one day with the news that He had found a job for me.

He told me to accompany him to a travel agency and that there was the possibility of working with a very kind lady who had no one to help her. As I needed the job, I agreed to go with him. After everything, I didn't lose something to try. I was hired immediately and started work the next day.

I must confess, it was one of the jobs I had the most fun at.

I mean that I was learning new things and that was related to one of my great passions, such as traveling and knowing other places, of course it is not an activity that characterizes me in my current life but without a doubt, it is something that I always yearned to do and when working there, I seemed to be closer to that possibility, in addition, what I was learning because of being new and outside my study area, allowed me to dock more quickly and comfortably, because from the very beginning my boss understood that I had not taken a course or anything similar, therefore she was patient with me and did not classify myself as useless or incapable.

On the contrary, she was very excited that I learned so quickly to make air reservations, also in hotels inside and outside the country, answering her calls, preparing tour packages and even gave me the keys of the agency to open it every day.

In fact, there were days when I was alone attending the office and all the clients who arrived there. It was the first time I felt useful in a job, I began to believe that I had found my place and it even showed in my mood.

However, the harvest season had not passed, quite the contrary, it could be said that I was in the middle of the harvest.

From one day to the next my boss began to distrust me.

She accused me of wanting to subtract authority from her in her own agency. She told me in a very severe and almost intimidating way that I was nobody to take attributions in that agency, and all because the work schedule was different in each one's agenda of us.

After that, there were two weeks completely tense and full of paranoia where every movement of mine, even to make a check or receive advertising from a tourism wholesaler, was a reason for follow-up and complete observation by my boss.

The drop that spilled the glass was the presence of her son that made me feel absolute mediocre.

She looked at me and treated like an ignorant who pretended to be professional but didn't really know anything. My boss was so irritable at the time that she accused me again, this time of wanting ruin her business and even disappear two objects of your property (worth mentioning, her glasses and the seal of the agency).

Her son called me "prattler", so to speak; according to him, what I studied in my university years was not verified with my professional practice.

That shocked me and made me remember briefly, my two-week stay at the advertising company, where I felt for the first time unable to validate my career. This time the story was repeated. A man who, according to his mother, was “perfect” in his work and did not make mistakes because he always took care of even the smallest detail, was telling me in a frontal way that he did not believe that I had studied administration.

Of course, I put my resignation the next day. That situation had far exceeded my level of tolerance and hurt the little personal pride I still had. The person that more than once she had declared how happy she felt to have me working with her, now, she told me that she regretted even the salary she paid me.

Every time something like this happened to me, I turned to my good pair of friends that I gained from my time studying at the university, and despite not living even remotely near me, they were always willing to listen to me, whether it was for a call telephone or by a simple text message.

Sometimes with a jocular tone and sometimes with deep surprise, they would say: “Again? Friend, you don't hit one. Why will it always do you work for crazy bosses? ” I remember laughing and other times, I just gestured a grimace.

I also asked myself the same question and the most unusual thing was that by asking them how they were, the answer was the same or similar to mine. Crazy bosses, poor pay, labor exploitation, humiliation, ill-founded accusations, etc.

I was almost surprised by the parallelism ironic of their lives with mine, in spite of the distance and of our respective civil states: one married and with a child, the other one almost married with a son and me for my part, single.

Well, even that conditioned my fear of childhood. It told me that I didn't have enough beauty, sympathy or the angel that was needed for a man and especially a GOOD man could even notice me, much less that he liked me.

As a child, I used to daydream that no matter how many men there were on the planet, the one who would love me sincerely and be my faithful life partner, could see in me what others did not.

Sadly, the only ones who could see me were under the influence of drugs, alcohol or suffered from some mental disorder. So, my perennial singleness remains, thanks in its entirety to fear and more than that, I came to the full conviction that would keep me single and without offspring.

I wonder if, for this reason, my friends experienced part of my litanies, just as the surrounding islands do when a storm passes. I begin to believe so, otherwise, Job would have been the only one to suffer his tribulation, instead of seeing everything he had once, completely affected.

And while my history with jobs, bosses, family relationships and even health, was related to theirs, I was still surprised by the "coincidence" of our experiences.

Fear makes your negative thoughts come true, so be careful with the ideas you feed daily because they will materialize sooner or later. My work and professional failure, as well as my life ideology, are the best example.

A popular saying goes as follows: "Tell me who you are with and I will tell you who you are", if your travel companion is the fear, you can be sure that you will be a coward.

Fear is like a magnet for misfortunes, it generates a very powerful field of attraction, even if it is for the negative things, however, that same field can disrupt the foundations or lives of those who are closer and will expand its range every time it is strengthened.

Deja un comentario

Tu dirección de correo electrónico no será publicada. Los campos obligatorios están marcados con *