From Software Bootcamp Dreams to Industrial Cleaning Nights — I’m Fighting to Reclaim My Place in Tech
Introduction: The Ugly Truth
Let me just be real:
I’m not writing this as someone who’s figured it out.
I’m not writing this as a LinkedIn success story waiting to happen.
I’m writing this because I’m desperate, a bit of a train wreck, and trying to wrestle a career out of the jaws of exhaustion, rejection, and existential dread.
I came to Australia with hope, ambition, and a plan: finish a software bootcamp, get into the tech industry, and build something for myself. What happened instead was a downward spiral into survival mode, punctuated by 8-14 hour night shifts, industrial cleaning jobs, and hundreds of unanswered job applications.
And still — I want this. I still want to be in tech. I want to make games. I want to build things that matter. But my time, money, and mental bandwidth are running out.
The Job Hunt Spiral
If you’ve ever job hunted while emotionally wrecked, physically depleted, and borderline existential about your future, you know how this goes:
- You open job boards like it’s a ritual.
- You apply in bulk — dozens in one sitting.
- You barely read the job descriptions.
- You blast your resume out like confetti.
- You get the same canned rejections (or nothing at all).
- You feel worse after every attempt.
- Repeat.
I’m guilty of doing the bare minimum — the lowest common denominator of effort — because emotionally, I’ve been running on fumes. The consultants and job coaches preaching “set yourself up for success, not failure”? Annoying, but not entirely wrong. The issue is… they’re not dealing with what I’m dealing with: time constraints, lack of local experience, burnout, and the looming threat of going broke.
It’s not as simple as “just try harder” when your reality is survival.
Life Between Worlds
I didn’t hate the cleaning job.
But I didn’t survive a brutal bootcamp, migrate to a new country, and restructure my entire life just to end up wiping grease off warehouse floors.
There’s a huge cognitive dissonance when you’ve trained in software, dreamed of game dev or tech work, and instead find yourself trapped in blue-collar gigs because they’re the only ones hiring. When you see 5000+ applicants for a junior dev job and you’re just one of many, you start to wonder: what’s the point?
And if you’re in a city like Sydney without a car? It’s like the world is playing on hard mode. Getting to jobs — even casual ones — becomes a logistical nightmare unless you’re living right where the work is. Which I’m not. I’m on the outskirts, relying on public transport, budgeting every dollar and every ounce of mental energy.
The Isolation Factor
Another layer? I’m the only one in my family here in Australia.
There’s no fallback. No family couch. No “take a break” option.
Just me, some dwindling savings, a few lifelines from generous friends and a patient landlord, and the stubborn determination to not go back to a version of myself that gave up.
There’s gratitude in there too — appreciation for everyone who’s helped me so far — but that doesn’t mute the pressure. In fact, it sharpens it. I have to make this work. I have to find a way out.
its own new section:
Three Months In: Still Searching, Still Fighting
It’s been nearly three months since I started actively looking for work — not just in tech, but across a wide range of roles.
I’ve applied to IT jobs, white-collar roles, blue-collar gigs, casual labor, even cleaning. I’ve said yes to anything remotely plausible. I’ve updated my resume more times than I can count. I’ve tried tweaking cover letters, expanding my skill keywords, rewriting my LinkedIn summary, all in hopes of standing out.
And still — nothing’s landed.
Three months is a long time when you’re unemployed, bleeding money, and checking job boards like it’s a daily prayer. It warps your sense of time and tests your confidence. Especially when you see 200, 1000, or even 5000+ people applying for the same job you’re gunning for. That kind of volume doesn’t just intimidate — it dehumanizes.
But I keep showing up. Every week. Every day
Where I Go From Here
The idea of a “perfect” application strategy feels laughable right now.
But I know I have to pivot.
The truth is, applying for jobs like everyone else isn’t working — especially when “everyone else” includes hundreds or thousands of other applicants. If I want to survive — if I want to actually live and not just exist — I need to get smarter, not just louder.
So here’s what I’m going to try next:
- Reach out directly to hiring managers, companies, and recruiters — even if it feels awkward or desperate.
- Make content that showcases what I can do, instead of just telling people on a resume.
- Skew my job search toward less-saturated niches or contract work that might be overlooked.
- Tap into communities online and offline, even if it means swallowing my pride.
- Start building my own thing (again), whether it’s a game, a tool, a blog series — something that shows proof-of-work.
- Write raw, honest posts like this — because someone, somewhere, needs to know they’re not alone in the mess.
Call to Action: Desperation Meets Strategy
If you’re reading this and feeling the same pressure, I see you. And if you’ve got advice? I’ll take it. If you’ve got opportunities? I’m here. If you’re struggling too? We’ll crawl through this together.
But I’ve realized that playing this game the conventional way is a slow death — and my livelihood is on the line.
So my next move? Go unconventional. Be bolder. Reach out. Build weird things. Make noise in unexpected ways.
Because at this point, the only other option is giving up — and I’m not ready to do that.
Not yet.