Man, 2018, specifically late in the year, felt like a real turning point for me, though I didn’t see it coming until it slapped me right in the face. I remember feeling this weird restlessness creeping in. It wasn’t like anything was terribly wrong with my gig at the time. I was just… there. Clocking in, clocking out. Doing the work, getting paid. But it started to feel like I was just hitting repeat every single day, you know? No real challenges, no excitement, just coasting.
The Setup: Feeling the Rut
I started noticing it around September, October. I’d walk into the office, and that little spark I used to have, that drive to tackle something new, it was just gone. Poof. Replaced by this dull hum of routine. I’d catch myself staring out the window, wondering what else was out there. It wasn’t a sudden thing, more like a slow build-up of feeling stagnant. Like a pond that stopped flowing. I knew deep down I needed a change, but man, figuring out what that change even looked like was the real kicker. I had responsibilities, a routine, a comfortable spot. Who just up and quits that?
My evenings became this weird mix of unwinding and a quiet panic. I’d scroll through job boards, not really applying for anything, just looking. Testing the waters. Seeing if anything clicked. Most of it felt like more of the same, just with different company names plastered on top. That’s when I realized the problem wasn’t just the job; it was me and my approach to things. I was comfortable, and comfortable was killing my drive.
Starting to Stir: The First Steps
So, I started small. Instead of just looking, I actually started reading up on different fields, things I’d always thought were interesting but never had the guts to pursue. I remember spending nights digging into articles about project management, then some basic coding stuff, then even dabbling in a bit of digital marketing. It was a total mess, jumping from one thing to another, but it felt good to learn something new, anything. It was like finally cracking open a window in a stuffy room.
My wife saw me doing all this, hunched over my laptop, and she asked what I was up to. I just told her, “Trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.” She just smiled. She’d probably seen this coming before I did. That talk with her, though, it lit a little fire under me. It wasn’t just my feeling anymore; it was a shared understanding that something needed to shift.
I started carving out an hour or two every evening, dedicated time. No distractions. Just me and whatever I decided to dive into. Some nights it was watching tutorials, some nights it was messing around with free online courses. I even went to a couple of local meetups, totally outside my comfort zone. Walked in, introduced myself, listened to people talk about stuff I barely understood. It felt awkward as hell, but I kept showing up.
Hitting the Pavement: The Grind Begins
By December, the feeling of needing a change wasn’t just a whisper; it was a shout. I updated my resume, which was a project in itself. Tried to spin my current experience into something relevant for the kind of stuff I was looking at. It felt like I was faking it till I made it. I started sending out applications. And boy, did the rejections roll in. One after another. Crushing sometimes. You put all this effort into tailoring a cover letter, polishing your resume, then boom, “Thanks, but no thanks.”
There were days I just wanted to throw in the towel. Thought maybe I was delusional, that I should just suck it up and stick with what I knew. But then I’d remember that dull hum, that feeling of dread walking into the old office, and it would push me forward again. I even got a couple of interviews. Those were nerve-wracking. I practiced, I researched the companies, I tried to sound confident even when my stomach was doing backflips. Most of those didn’t pan out either.
One particular interview sticks out. It was for a smaller company, a bit of a startup vibe. I totally bombed one of the technical questions. I walked out of there feeling like a complete idiot. But instead of just wallowing, I went home and immediately looked up the answer, understood what I did wrong. That failure, ironically, felt like a win because it taught me something specific I needed to work on. It shifted my perspective. Every “no” or stumble became a learning opportunity, a data point telling me what to focus on next.
The Breakthrough: A Glimmer of Hope
After what felt like an eternity of applications and polite rejections, a small company got back to me. It wasn’t exactly what I thought I was looking for, but it had elements of the new skills I’d been trying to pick up. They invited me for an interview, and this time, I felt different. More prepared, less desperate. I walked in, answered their questions, but more importantly, I asked my own. I showed genuine curiosity about their work and how I could contribute, not just listing my old experiences.
A week later, they called. Offered me the job. It was a jump. A completely new role, a new industry, and frankly, a bit less pay at the start, but with huge potential for growth. It felt like a massive leap into the unknown. My old colleagues thought I was crazy leaving a stable gig, but my wife, she just saw the relief in my eyes. I felt lighter, like a huge weight had been lifted.
The Aftermath: Embracing the New
Starting that new job was tough, no sugarcoating it. I was constantly learning, making mistakes, feeling like the new guy all over again. But it was a good tough. The kind of tough that makes you grow. I remember those first few months, coming home tired but energized. The curiosity was back. The drive was back. Every day was a challenge, but a welcome one. It wasn’t just clocking in and out; it was building something, learning something. It was exactly the change I needed.
Looking back at December 2018, it really was the month I got ready for changes, even if I was dragging my feet initially. It taught me that sometimes, you just gotta push past that comfort zone, even if it’s scary as hell. That feeling of being stuck, that restlessness? It was my gut telling me to wake up. And I’m damn glad I listened.
