my ruined first-job story

Habits, bad or good, are not easy to kick but I recently managed to shrug off a particularly tiresome one. It was causing me a lot of distress and I had more or less surrendered my life to it. Plus, my near-and-dears were starting to get concerned about my mental well-being. So, all though it was a potential launching pad for a stellar career and the source of a meagre monthly income, I ditched my first job.
I'm aware that twenty years from now, if I were to achieve some modicum of success, I will not be able to tell an inspiring first-job story to youngsters starting out in the profession. I wont be able to speak of humble beginnings but limitless prospects, of a god-father who took me under his/her wing, of that insufferable, demanding boss who "nevertheless helped me become who I am today." Mine will be a story of humble beginnings and humble prospects, of stalwarts who had nothing more to offer me more than their sympathy, of a mentor who branded me as 'lazy' for life, of thwarted chances that were my doing and thwarted hopes that were someone else's doing.
For sure, I did learn quite a few things on the job. Prone to over-confidence, the clerical nature of my work took me down a peg or two. Before starting out I was afraid of ideological differences with the paper's editorial line. On the job, I learned that my superiors wouldn't have given two shits even if i were an undercover Naxalite.
But there were more enduring lessons. I learnt that intelligence is in the eye of the reader, that learning to cover your own tail is a praiseworthy goal, that unquestioned submission to authority is a virtue, and for there to be rockstars in your newsroom you also need sufficiently submisive underlings for them to beat up.
My first-job tale will be singularly unappetizing. But that's just something I will have to live with.