The pain and regret of quitting my job prematurely.

I recently found myself reflecting on a life-altering decision that I made not too long ago, a decision that has left me broke, unemployed, and burdened with regrets. As I sit here, I can’t help but reminisce about the memories of my previous job, where the good moments were overshadowed by the drawbacks. The good ones.

• I remember the tips I used to receive from customers I served, oh man I loved those coz they were the best part of the job. The tips I received helped me live a better lifestyle than I could afford with my income alone, build my savings and also have more disposable income in my wallet. They made me “rich” and feel a bit better during the bad days on the job.
• I remember the salary I used to receive at end of the month, it always felt good having income come through, having some ka money in the account and being able to pay my bills and meet my expenses and live the independent adult life.
• I also remember the people, the clients and colleagues I interacted with, the good conversations I had with them and the support and encouragement we showed each other at work.
• And I remember the prestige and social value I would get from having the job and being associated with the company brand I was working for, oh it felt good being a productive member of society and being recognized as so with my friends, peers, relatives and even strangers.

But then the job had its own draw backs,

• Working long agonizing hours Monday to Saturday always left me feeling tried most of the times, unable to do anything else out of work.
• Feeling unappreciated for my efforts and value but rather have people dump work at me and feeling exploited.
• Then some aspects of the job like sales that I really struggled at, especially making the cold calls to clients, generating leads from over the counter customers that I was serving and cross selling to them other products. I wasn’t really good at conversations and at times felt intimidated by the clientele.
• Also the physical inactivity of sitting at the counter for about 12 hours a day was really uncomfortable and draining.
• And ever increasing targets and workloads that just made it harder and felt too much. The goal posts where changing constantly and becoming to much to all be done by one person.

Truthfully, I didn’t particularly like the job and I spent most of my days wishing for something better. Then as I would spend most of my time strolling (had no time for any other hobbies), the unfortunate happened during this mindless strolling. I came across a string of YouTube influencers, content makers, and “career experts”. Through these influencers, got introduced to things like the great resignation, quitting, anti-work etc and I was really really hooked. This was because that talked about and shared their experience of working boring dead-end sh*ty jobs which they hated and this was very relatable for me as I was facing the same situation. I then consumed their content religiously and ferociously and I slowly fell into deeper more radical conversations like quitting your job even with no backup, residing to a sort of hippie lifestyle of no work, ditching the corporate rat race for a simplified and quit life somewhere in the “heavens”. I became brainwashed and slowly began to think of leaving my job. Phases like ‘no job is worth your mental health’, or ‘if you hate your job quit’ and what became my personal favorite was to ‘quit that job and start my own business of something am passionate about so that I never feel like am working’ became engrained in my brain that I would spend days meditating them. I fell deep in the rabbit hole of quitting my boring dead end job to start my own business (even though I clearly didn’t have the resources nor the expertise or even a viable idea to begin with). All I knew is this, that I wanted out.

Today I look back in dismay and wonder what I was ever thinking and why I even did so. But back then, I was extremely motivated. I couldn’t and didn’t want to listen to any dissenting voice to quiting, I was self-reinforcing my desires with the content I was consuming that was telling me everything I wanted to hear.

So when the time to renew my contract came I decided not to I was moving out after the end of my current period and no one was going to talk me out of it.

I remember my last day, I felt excited and heroic. I knew I was escaping the rat race, the matrix, that I was going out to find my passion, my freedom, my business, my “millions” and my life. I can assure you that it felt good walking out of there. Knowing that I won’t be putting up with the issues I raised earlier and much more (that feeling of sticking it to your toxic boss and storming out of the office all mucho and bouncy). Well that’s me on that day.

But it didn’t take long for reality to hit coz my last day was on a Wednesday but by Monday morning I was already regretting my decision. For the first time it hit me what such a grave mistake this was, I had no plan, no path, no direction, I was looking through a bunch of business ideas “passions” and didn’t know which one to pursue or was so good at that I could monetize it. I was all over the place that I ended up putting some of my money in the wrong places and thus losing it. I was so scared, desperate, I wanted to turn back time and not quit.

On top of that, my personal expenses were ramping up pretty fast, rent food and transport grew on me really quickly. I saw my account draining quite fast and with nothing coming in. I quickly abandoned the business concept and tried to look for a fast job for survival but nothing came my way. I strolled through town for days but nothing.

I felt ashamed, angry and disappointed at myself ‘why did I ever quit?’

With no income and a list of expenses my remaining solution was to leave Kampala and return to living in my parents house. So just two months after quitting my job, I boarded the bus to my hometown with a heart filled with shame and sadness, a mind filled with regrets and thoughts and my eyes filled with tears.

Today, I live in my parents’ house. I feel like a loser, for a person who once had a job, a promising career in banking, and the world at my feet, I have surely fallen far far away from that prospect.

Am back in my small hometown that once I left to pursue my dreams and ambitions in the city, am living in my parents home and  carry around a ton of shame and guilt for the misguided life decision that brought me down here. It’s worse that am adding a strain on my parent’s income given that am a first born and have younger siblings whom my parents have to take care of. They already did their part for me thoroughly paying for my education until University and were once proud that I had a job.

Of course, I work and contribute to my dad’s business every way I can and any other informal jobs that I can manage to get to for any pay. But am constantly bombarded by thoughts of my deeply held ambitions and childhood dreams for my career and adult life that I once had. I feel depressed, anxious and isolated at my current position in life.

I love and adore my parents, but home isn’t for me and never was. I have always had strong and ambitious dreams for my life, particularly regarding work and lifestyle (I have always preferred Kampala to my hometown), and never thought that at this point in my life, I would be in the position I am in today and more so not because of my own doing. Am at point zero of my life because I decided to take life advice from internet strangers.

Looking back, I can’t help but ask myself: What was I thinking? Why did I make such a drastic decision without a plan or direction? The excitement of escaping my previous job quickly turned into regret as reality hit. Now, living with the consequences and the burden on my parents, I find myself at a crossroads. How do I move forward?