Hi everyone, it's been a long time since I last logged in here (a few years, in fact). Can't believe how bad things have gotten for me...
I'm 46yo, I was a graphic designer for the past 17 years. Combining that with my early office admin/typist work I have 27 total years of work experience along with my two degrees (BS in business admin, one in design). But I've learned that this is all worthless in the new economy as I find myself permanently jobless. Over the past ten years I have only been able to find stupid contract work, never a permanent job (one contract lasted 3.5 years with no perm offer ever). Looking back I can see that Boston was the worst place for me to try to forge a design career, as the job postings were always few and far between; even Ohio has more design jobs appearing on Indeed right now which I find rather strange...I should've acknowledged there was something wrong with the job market in this city and moved while I was still young.
Two years ago I landed a dingy part-time remote contract gig while I searched and searched for something permanent. Last summer that contract gig finally dried up and I still had no prospects for work (perm or contract). Out of desperation I made up a new resume that barely mentions my design career and began applying for every lowly office job that presented itself: data entry, secretary, receptionist (the type of work I did 20 years ago). During one 8-week span I sent 150 applications. I did not get ONE response. I *finally* landed an entry-level data entry job in October, temporary (of course), which paid less than what I earned in 1992. That ended in January. I'm now going on nearly three months of existing like a zombie with no income and no reason to wake up in the morning. I had some savings that kept me sane but now that's starting to run out.
If I go on living, my only option for employment is minimum wage at Wal-Mart or Target or maybe scrubbing toilets for some hotel chain (and I'm starting to doubt I'd even qualify for that). There is something seriously wrong here.
But I'm done trying to make sense of it. I'm done with crying endlessly every single stinking day to the point where my eyes permanently burn (heck, I'm crying now). I'm done with being afraid of starving and being homeless. I'm done with being sad about what a disappointment my life was. I'm done listening to people telling me I should be "grateful" for the opportunity scrub toilets should it arise. I'm, just, done. My birthday is going to be it for it (that's when my savings are expected to run out).
I spend my days teetering between sadness, anger and shock. Sad about my mom and three cats that I'm leaving behind. Anger because nobody ever told me this was my future -- nobody told me 30 years ago that I would be too old for a good job at 45. Shocked that the only job I could find to apply for today was a delivery driver job that pays $10/hour (closer to what I earned in 1986).
When I was young, I had such dreams, dreams of being happy "someday," but after 30+ years I have to conclude "someday" is never going to come. And that's probably the most painful part, remembering how hopeful I was as a teenager, thinking about the future, and all the "great things" I was going to accomplish. I was going to meet a great guy and have the family I always wanted. I was going to be happy. Now here I am, divorced, childless, officially "too old" for anything, facing losing my home and applying for a delivery driver job @ $10/hr.
[Although, to be fair, on the very first night of my very first design class the instructor told us in her very first lecture, “When you turn 40, you can forget about finding work in this field.” Of course, all of us twentysomethings dismissed her, saying it’s probably because she’s not a very good designer (she wasn’t the greatest teacher). But now, 20 years later, here I am (my favorite job descriptions are the ones that say they’re looking for someone “fresh”). So, yeah, I guess I'll have to accept the blame here. But never did I think I'd be completely locked out from any kind of office job.]
Thanks for listening, folks. I'm not even sure why I came here, as nobody can do anything to help me. Nobody even needs to respond to this. (One hard lesson I've learned these past few years is that the world doesn't care.) I just hope younger folks out there read this and it makes them think through their career/life choices much more carefully than I did. Concentrate on finding someone wonderful to marry and have kids with while you're young (I have no real friends, haven't been on a "date" with a man in eight years), and be sure to avoid the field of graphic design entirely (and the city of Boston which has no decent jobs at all for educated women over the age of 45).
I'm 46yo, I was a graphic designer for the past 17 years. Combining that with my early office admin/typist work I have 27 total years of work experience along with my two degrees (BS in business admin, one in design). But I've learned that this is all worthless in the new economy as I find myself permanently jobless. Over the past ten years I have only been able to find stupid contract work, never a permanent job (one contract lasted 3.5 years with no perm offer ever). Looking back I can see that Boston was the worst place for me to try to forge a design career, as the job postings were always few and far between; even Ohio has more design jobs appearing on Indeed right now which I find rather strange...I should've acknowledged there was something wrong with the job market in this city and moved while I was still young.
Two years ago I landed a dingy part-time remote contract gig while I searched and searched for something permanent. Last summer that contract gig finally dried up and I still had no prospects for work (perm or contract). Out of desperation I made up a new resume that barely mentions my design career and began applying for every lowly office job that presented itself: data entry, secretary, receptionist (the type of work I did 20 years ago). During one 8-week span I sent 150 applications. I did not get ONE response. I *finally* landed an entry-level data entry job in October, temporary (of course), which paid less than what I earned in 1992. That ended in January. I'm now going on nearly three months of existing like a zombie with no income and no reason to wake up in the morning. I had some savings that kept me sane but now that's starting to run out.
If I go on living, my only option for employment is minimum wage at Wal-Mart or Target or maybe scrubbing toilets for some hotel chain (and I'm starting to doubt I'd even qualify for that). There is something seriously wrong here.
But I'm done trying to make sense of it. I'm done with crying endlessly every single stinking day to the point where my eyes permanently burn (heck, I'm crying now). I'm done with being afraid of starving and being homeless. I'm done with being sad about what a disappointment my life was. I'm done listening to people telling me I should be "grateful" for the opportunity scrub toilets should it arise. I'm, just, done. My birthday is going to be it for it (that's when my savings are expected to run out).
I spend my days teetering between sadness, anger and shock. Sad about my mom and three cats that I'm leaving behind. Anger because nobody ever told me this was my future -- nobody told me 30 years ago that I would be too old for a good job at 45. Shocked that the only job I could find to apply for today was a delivery driver job that pays $10/hour (closer to what I earned in 1986).
When I was young, I had such dreams, dreams of being happy "someday," but after 30+ years I have to conclude "someday" is never going to come. And that's probably the most painful part, remembering how hopeful I was as a teenager, thinking about the future, and all the "great things" I was going to accomplish. I was going to meet a great guy and have the family I always wanted. I was going to be happy. Now here I am, divorced, childless, officially "too old" for anything, facing losing my home and applying for a delivery driver job @ $10/hr.
[Although, to be fair, on the very first night of my very first design class the instructor told us in her very first lecture, “When you turn 40, you can forget about finding work in this field.” Of course, all of us twentysomethings dismissed her, saying it’s probably because she’s not a very good designer (she wasn’t the greatest teacher). But now, 20 years later, here I am (my favorite job descriptions are the ones that say they’re looking for someone “fresh”). So, yeah, I guess I'll have to accept the blame here. But never did I think I'd be completely locked out from any kind of office job.]
Thanks for listening, folks. I'm not even sure why I came here, as nobody can do anything to help me. Nobody even needs to respond to this. (One hard lesson I've learned these past few years is that the world doesn't care.) I just hope younger folks out there read this and it makes them think through their career/life choices much more carefully than I did. Concentrate on finding someone wonderful to marry and have kids with while you're young (I have no real friends, haven't been on a "date" with a man in eight years), and be sure to avoid the field of graphic design entirely (and the city of Boston which has no decent jobs at all for educated women over the age of 45).