Exhausted and Overwhelmed: A Week in the Life of a Part-Time Shop Assistant

I’m absolutely drained. The past week of working as a part-time shop assistant just downstairs from my home has been more exhausting than I anticipated. The one perk of this job is that I don’t need to commute, but that small convenience doesn’t make up for how much this job zaps my energy.

 

You might think that working as a shop assistant would be a simple task—tending the shop, cashiering, and answering customers' queries. But it’s so much more. I’m constantly lifting and carrying cartons of soft drinks and canned goods, unpacking them, and stocking the shelves. I find myself kneeling on the floor to stock the lower shelves, which, over time, has taken a toll on my lower back.
 

Now, you’d think that as a fitness instructor, I would know how to maintain proper posture and avoid injury. And I do! But some of the spaces in the store are so cramped that it’s impossible to squat properly while lifting. And let's be honest—neighborhood shops usually don’t have the kind of workplace health and safety audits that bigger businesses do.
 

There’s also the constant need to climb a step ladder, and not just any ladder. I’m talking about standing on the very top step to reach high shelves, which is terrifying. I have to be extra cautious to avoid falling.
 

And then there are the customers... Here’s a surprising fact: the customers who look well-mannered or from a higher social class are often the most impatient ones. On the other hand, those who seem rowdy or unkempt are usually more patient and understanding. It’s funny how appearances can be deceiving.
 

Of course, there's the business at the cashier, too. I get anxious and stressed whenever I’m handling cash. Sometimes, my brain just goes foggy, and I can’t remember how much change I need to give back. It's an added layer of pressure when you're trying to get things right under the watchful eyes of customers.
 

And let’s not forget the reality of being a rookie. As a newcomer, you do get scolded or reprimanded—not just for mistakes, but also for not working smart enough. My lack of experience in working in small shops makes me clumsy at times, and many times, I’ve felt like a “blur sotong” (as we say here). It’s hard not to feel discouraged when I realize just how much more efficient others are.
 

By the time I get home, I feel like I can barely move. And, to make matters worse, when you’ve got insomnia (like I did just last night), the exhaustion becomes unbearable. It’s such a helpless feeling.
 

What happened to my ambitions of growing my YouTube channel and making good monetization? What happened to all those thousands of dollars I spent on so-called "get rich" influencers, only to see myself now as a struggling loser? When can I get out of this rut?
 

I can’t help but wonder: what happened to my dreams of entrepreneurship? Here I am, struggling just to make ends meet, working for a mere $1,600 a month, which, as you can imagine, doesn’t get me very far. What makes it even more uncertain is the lack of a proper employment contract. I have no idea what my rights are or if I’ll even get paid at the end of the month. 

When Letting Go of Fitness Freed Me from Depression’s Grip

For years, I trained hard in strength training because, as a fitness professional, I felt the need to look a certain way. And let’s be honest—most people who train are chasing a certain look, whether it’s getting shredded, bulking up, or maintaining a lean physique.

Recently, due to my struggles with depression, I experimented with a different training approach—pushing every set to complete failure. But instead of making me stronger, it wrecked my energy levels, leaving me more exhausted each day.

Then, one fine day (yesterday), I decided to heck care. I stopped my usual 3-set routine and switched to just one set to failure, abandoning all that unnecessary volume. On top of that, I ditched macro atention. Now, I eat whatever I feel like eating and only when I am truly hungry.

For the first time in my life, it feels like liberation. It feels like freedom. I’ve completely let go of the idea of training for bulking or cutting, and the same goes for my diet. Fuck the old lifestyle of meeting external standards. Now, I just want to train when I feel like it, eat whatever and whenever I want, and live life on my own terms.

I have not felt this much freedom in such a long time.

The Hypocrisy of Fitness Professionals Who Smoke

As fitness professionals, I believe you would agree that part of our mission is to use exercise to guide people toward good health, longevity, and vitality. Unfortunately, the reality isn't always that simple. Let me share some shocking truths from my personal experience.

 

There was a time when I worked as a fitness trainer for military recruits, conducting fitness tests like the IPPT (Individual Physical Proficiency Test). Most of my colleagues were young chaps who had either just completed their National Service or graduated from fitness schools like ITE.
 

Here’s the shocking part: 90% of my colleagues were smokers. During lunch breaks or after shifts, a group of them would gather at the rubbish bin near the bus stop to light up. It was difficult for me to fit in with them, and I always made sure to keep my distance.
 

But here’s the most alarming part: one day, our supervisor (another young guy) called for a “quick meeting” to discuss some work matters. And where did he take us? Right to that same rubbish bin area. He pulled out his cigarettes, lit one up, and started discussing work while everyone else joined in.
 

I can’t tell you how much this annoyed me. In fact, a big reason I eventually resigned was the toxic culture I was forced to be a part of.
 

As a fitness professional, I firmly believe we should be role models for health and wellness. Smoking is the exact opposite of what we should be promoting. We should steer clear of such toxic behaviors and environments that contradict the message we’re trying to send to our clients.
 

I had another experience recently as a part-time fitness trainer at a polytechnic. One day, I met a new colleague finishing his morning shift as I arrived for my afternoon one. As I approached the reception area, the first thing I noticed was a pack of cigarettes openly placed on the counter in front of him.
 

This is a polytechnic environment, a place where students and young adults are looking up to us as role models. It’s not professional, and frankly, it’s inappropriate to display a pack of cigarettes so openly. It sent the wrong message, and I couldn’t help but feel frustrated.
 

In another case, I overheard another trainer casually saying that smoking was no big deal.
 

Honestly, unless I’m completely desperate (and jobless, which might be a reality soon), I can’t imagine returning to an environment like that. The hypocrisy is just too much to bear.
 

As fitness professionals, we need to walk the talk. We should be committed to living a healthy lifestyle—not just preaching about it but embodying it in everything we do. It’s time to hold ourselves to a higher standard.

Now that I’m currently jobless, I find myself questioning whether I should return to an environment like that, despite how desperate I am for work. It’s a tough decision, but I’m starting to realize that compromising my values and well-being for a paycheck might not be the right choice.

Why Being a "Jack of All Trades" is BAD!

When I first got into the fitness industry, I thought I needed as many certifications as possible to succeed. So, I collected them all—fitness instructor, aerobics, personal trainer, sports massage, senior fitness, and even Nirvana fitness.

At first, it seemed great. My resume looked impressive. But I soon realized something important: while these certifications made me look qualified, they didn’t make me an expert in anything. I spread myself too thin, and as a result, I was only 50% good at some things, 30% at others, and 15% in some areas.

For example, in sports massage, only about 50% of my clients fully recovered. But if I had focused solely on sports massage, I could have become an expert and helped nearly all of my clients recover.

The lesson here is simple: being a "Jack of all trades" isn’t always the best path. Specializing in one area allows you to master it, deliver better results, and stand out.

Creator or Destroyer

In Bazi, there’s a personality profile known as "The Eating God" (EG), which is often associated with creative individuals. One of the standout traits of an EG is their exceptional creativity. They have the ability to think beyond the ordinary, conceptualizing ideas that most people would never consider. This makes them natural creators, excelling in fields like music, art, fiction—anything that taps into the creative side of the human experience.

However, there’s a flip side to this. One of the potential downfalls of the EG personality is a tendency to overthink or dream excessively. When faced with setbacks or challenges, they may struggle with self-doubt or frustration, sometimes even sabotaging the very things they’ve created. Instead of nurturing their work, they may inadvertently destroy it.

Today, I found myself browsing through one of my own YouTube channels, 80s Smash, and I couldn't help but wonder: how on earth did I even create all of this? And why did I create it in the first place? Was I in some kind of trance when I put it all together? More importantly, why did I end up letting it slip away, as I always do?

Sometimes, I wonder if I was my own creator... and my own destroyer.

Could This Be a Good Solution for Depression?

As a fitness trainer with experience in sports massage and rehab, I’ve always stressed how important it is to focus on safety. The goal of any workout should be to have a healthy body, not just to look good or perform better. From my sports massage work, I’ve seen so many people push themselves too hard during workouts. They train intensely, sometimes beyond what their body can handle, and this leads to muscle tension and painful knots in certain areas.

 

I’ve even written several fitness blogs warning about the dangers of working out just for looks, without caring about improving your health.
 

But recently, I’ve found myself going down a path I used to advise against. I’ve been dealing with depression for the past few weeks, and as I struggled with it, I ended up doing something I never thought I would. Normally, I focus on bodyweight exercises and keep my training simple. I avoid pushing myself too hard and always remind myself that exercise is for health, not just for building muscle or looking good. But this time, I switched things up and started using gym machines, like the lat pulldown, cable machines, angled leg press, hip thrusts, and shoulder press dumbbells.
 

I also tried something I usually warn people about: training to failure. That means pushing myself until I can't do another rep, even if it means struggling with partial reps—tiny movements when I can't complete a full range of motion. The intensity of these workouts left me breathing heavily and making grunting sounds I usually find annoying in the gym. The soreness the next day was brutal too. I’d wake up feeling sore all over, especially in the muscles I’d worked hard the day before.

Honestly, I know this kind of training isn’t good for the body. But there’s something about pushing myself to the limit that feels really rewarding. When I hit that last, almost impossible rep, there’s this feeling of accomplishment that washes away all the negative emotions and depression I’ve been carrying. I’ve started to crave that “high” from intense workouts, and I now want to push myself as hard as I can every time. I even feel disappointed if I don’t feel sore the next day—it feels like the workout wasn’t worth it.
 

In a strange way, this intense level of training also makes me feel more resilient. As I battle through those heavy, intense lifts, I remind myself that this is about building strength, not just in my muscles but in my mind. It’s almost like the pain of the workout is a reminder to stay strong and keep going, no matter how tough things get.
 

The intensity of my training has become more than just a way to deal with depression—it’s also a way to fight back against my current jobless situation. Every heavy lift and every moment of struggle in the gym feels like a battle I have to win. I’m telling myself that I can’t give up, just like I can't give up on finding a way out of my current circumstances.
 

I’ve also realized that I’m no longer training to stay healthy. I’m not focused on fitness or improving my body anymore. Instead, my workouts have become a way to feel that “high” and to fight my depression. It’s no longer about health—it’s about the emotional relief I get from pushing myself beyond my limits.
 

For the first time, I felt like I had a great workout, and I’ve stopped following my usual minimalist approach. Now, I’m spending at least an hour in the gym, giving it my all.
 

This new, intense way of training  could be a good way to help me deal with my depression—or even help others who struggle with it.

A Heartbreaking Reunion with the Past

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to cover a fitness class at my alma mater. After the class, I decided to visit the school gym. As an alumnus, it was always nice to return to familiar surroundings, especially since I had also worked there briefly as a part-time trainer.

After signing in at the reception, I casually asked if any of the trainers I used to work with were still around. I was taken aback when I learned that one of my former colleagues, who had been a wonderful person and a good friend during our time working together, had passed away last September due to pneumonia.

The news hit me hard. This trainer, let's call him Um, was always full of life—healthy, happy, and around my age. I had always hoped to catch up with him one day if I returned, but now that chance is gone. The realization that he is no longer with us left me feeling both shocked and deeply saddened.
As I reflected on our time together, I couldn’t help but remember the qualities that made Um such a great colleague. He was a trainer who embodied responsibility, always dedicated to his work and sticking to strong principles of hard work. He was the kind of person who brought positivity and sincerity to everything he did.

It’s tragic that despite the advances in medical technology, some illnesses still emerge without explanation, taking lives unexpectedly. I was told that in his final weeks, Um had lost a significant amount of weight, and the gym management had advised him to rest. It’s a reminder of how fragile life can be, no matter how healthy we may seem on the outside.

While it's incredibly sad, I hope that Um has found peace and is now in a better place. May he be reborn into a realm of peace and light.