I got busy, I got a job, and then I cried

I think I have Ergophobia.

I've been stage managing a play, and running a box office for another show.  I've been happy, but not getting paid.

I got a job today.  I'm so terrified.  I start on Tuesday.

My last job screwed me up emotionally.  I feel emotionally abused.  I'm so scared that I'll get fired, and I know that comes from my last job.  I was scared I was going to get fired everyday.  My anxiety level is out of control right now. 

I should be happy, but I can't stop worrying and crying.

Can't You Hear That Jingle Jangle Sound?

Lately I've had a few songs from musicals stuck in my head.  "Every Little Piece" from Pete's Dragon and "Money Money Money" from Momma Mia.  Both of the things these songs have in common is finances, and lusting after it.

While looking for something else in my mother's house a few weeks ago, I found my 6th grade yearbook.  They had us all write where we would be when we were 30 years old.  I wanted to be editor of a newspaper, and live in a beach house in California.

Every once in awhile I'll check Zillow.com and look at beach houses.  I'm still that little kid.  Those are still things I want at 34, although editor of a dying medium doesn't seem like beach house material.  The money just wouldn't be there.  Those houses are millions of dollars.

The money from the house sale is dwindling to nothing.  Job prospects are still low.  I'm still so selfish, clinging to flashy houses/apartments/parties.  I had an okay job and a nice house, but no friends.  Now I have friends, but no house fit to invite them over to.  No money to go out with.  I am selfish to want it all...but I also don't think that the American Dream is too much to ask.

I don't really need a huge house.  A nice one to hold small dinner parties in would be fine.  A small yard.  Something I wouldn't be embarrassed to show people, like my mom's house.  Mom's house is big but filled to the brim with crap.  We had a BBQ the other week for mothers day and I didn't even want anyone coming in to use the bathroom.  I just want a bathroom to be proud of.  One that doesn't have a yellow porcelain tub and sink.  It's amazing what didn't bother me as a child that bothers me now about the house.

I'm also going crazy never being alone.  Whenever Hubby isn't home, my mother is.  I miss having a big house to be alone in.  I want to be with people, I want to be without people.  Sometimes I think I'm so picky that I'll never really be happy.

Yet I am happy, happier than I was before.  I am improving, even though it feels like a step back.

But I still would like a big vat of money to fall into my lap.

Vicious Cycles

This is one of those days where I hate my mother.  She's so condescending and doesn't say what she means and is so passive aggressive and some days I just can't fucking take it anymore.

No wonder I was a depressed kid.  A moody teenager.  An angry adult.  I can't deal with her shit and guilt tripping much longer.  I applied for 3 jobs today and followed up on a lead.  We need to get jobs and get out of my mother's house.  Tomorrow I will be better, but right now I'm fully willing to let her rot away inside her hoarder home until she dies, and then I will happily throw away everything she owned and make the house nice, and sell the shit out of it.

I know I'd be sad that she was gone...but I'm not going to lie, part of me will be relieved. 

Kiss Me, I'm 33.2% Irish

I decided to organize all the mail we had lying around everywhere today, and put it on the hall table in a double-decker letter tray.  I had asked her about doing it before, and she said that it wasn't any of her mail.  So to show her it was, I put it all together.

Passive Aggressive Teenager attitude reared it's ugly head in my mother.  She took her mail and went upstairs to her room with it.  Hubby was working for three hours on a St Patrick's Day dinner she almost didn't come down to eat.  Then she just pushed around her food on her plate not saying anything.  She retreated back to her room after dinner and didn't say anything to anyone.

I apologized to hubby, and he was still a little miffed about it considering she had ruined the whole dinner with her attitude.  She wonders why we don't bother to make dinner or spend time with her.

I really should have not let it go when Hubby said it would be okay to move in with her.  I would have said I wasn't going to do that and we should find an apartment.  I had a Skype interview today that I hope goes well.  If it does we are moving out ASAP.

Time To Stop Being Angry. This quote helped me.

“We have only a little time to please the living. But all eternity to love the dead.”

—	Sophocles, Antigone

Death, Take a Vacation

The best man from my wedding died suddenly a little over a week ago.  As soon as my husband's phone rang I knew he had passed.  If it was intuition or my ability to go straight to worst case scenario, I guess I'll never know.

Even though my dad and both my grandmothers had passed, this one was different.  All of those didn't come with the horrific element of surprise.  I also didn't have to deal with a terribly co-dependent friend this time around like I did with my dad.

This time around I didn't really feel like I had the right to be upset.  It was Hubby's friend, not really mine.  We spent some "couple" time together for sure, but he wasn't really my friend.  In fact, I had the distinct impression that he was amused by me, but had no interest in getting to know me personally.

He was a very passionate guy. He would get obsessed with something and it would be 300% about that topic until he was over it.  It could come off as extremely selfish, and a lot of the time it was.  It was.  I'm still angry with him.  I'm angry that his perfect family, his perfect life in his mansion, wasn't enough to seek the help he needed.  He's a selfish asshole.  He was a selfish asshole.  Even if his death turns out to be an accident, I'm still mad at him for not getting his shit together.

But I'm not allowed to have those feelings.  He's not a friend, I'm not supposed to have opinions about this.  I'm supposed to just be there for Hubby.  I'm trying my best to be there for him.  But my own feelings keep getting in the way. 

I'm so inappropriate when it comes to death.  All I could think about during the open casket was what a long day his corpse had, with a viewing from 4pm-8pm and then off for cremation in time for his funeral at 11AM the next morning.  It looked like him, but it also looked like someone from Madam Tussaud's had an intern do him.  If he was getting cremated later, was he in a longer casket?  When my sister was giving me a hard time about what I was wearing to my Grandmother's funeral, I told her that she humped the couches so much as a toddler that my mom took her to a doctor to see if she was okay.  Yeah, I put the fun in funeral.

I've cried almost ever other day since it happened.  Today I was super fatigued and slept through most of the day.  I hope this is the beginning of the acceptance phase, because I'm over this anger phase.

Doctor Hitler

I had a horrible experience with a doctor.  I don't think I can deal with this anymore.  I'll never know what is wrong, and there will never be anyone to help me.

But then, minutes later, everything doesn't seem so bad.  I can get another doctor and make it through this.  I'll be thin and happy within 2 years, and everything will be okay.  Maybe Dr. Hitler will work out, and this three month period she wants me to wait will work everything out.

The whole world feels as bi-polar as I feel right now about the rest of my life.

A Waste of Time

At first, I was feeling better.  I am feeling better.  I don't feel like it's too much effort to wash my hair anymore.  But the weight is still there, and I'm still not eating enough to maintain it, but it remains on me.

I don't have enough energy to work out.  I did about an hour today and felt like I needed a nap.  I don't feel like I did enough.  I don't feel like anything is going to be good enough.  I feel like I'm stuck.  Even reaching out to see if there is a friend in this town that wants to do anything, and all I get is a "Where's your husband?" as if he abandoned me, and if he was available, I would NEVER want to hang out with anyone else ever.
-_-

Marriage has ended all my friendships.  I want to give up.  I feel like living is a waste of my time.

And the clouds parted, and it was a partly cloudy day.

2 weeks ago, I woke up.  Truly woke up, and for the first time in many, many years (possibly a decade) I felt like doing something that day.  I had energy.

I had no idea how bad I had felt until I felt better.  This means that the thyroid meds are finally working.  I was contemplating suicide daily, but just didn't have the energy.  Maybe because I was already a little depressed, it pushed me to the edge.

Either way, I'm glad it's over, although a little worried that it could come back.  Until then, it's been so nice being normal.  Making plans to do something that required being physical and not dreading it with my life, but looking forward to it.

I actually hurt my back today, clearing out 4 bags of clothes and shoes from my closet.  I cleared out another closet so that I could actually fit all our luggage inside it.  It felt good hauling all the trash away.  I had plans to play tennis with a friend later today, but she never called.  It's the first time in weeks I was glad to rest.

I got on the scale yesterday and I had lost a pound.  Nothing special, and it could just be back tomorrow, but it's a start.  I feel like I'm on my way.

Lasting Effects

I went to the doctor this week, and we are trying a different type of medication, and I'm doing an ultrasound for other reasons at the end of the month.

He also told me that over the past year my glucose levels were bouncing up and down.  I knew that I had been going overboard with the sweets, but when I thought back to why, it came down to a friend who didn't want to eat chocolate alone.

I was never really big on sweets, like my mom.  However, because of this "friend" I sort of got a taste for it that I never shook.  When I really sat down and thought about it, I needed something sweet at least once a day, if not two.  It was a bad friendship, but until this week I had no idea of the lasting effects that it had caused; I was actually had developed a bad habit that was bad for my health.

It also made me think of other relationships that have had bad lasting effects.  My cousin told me when I was very little that Nana (her dad's mother) didn't really love me, and whenever we were together she was just being nice to me.  When you are a kid, you pretty much take things at face value, and what she said made sense at the time.  Nana made them clothes and did things for them that she didn't do for me, but they did all live in the same city.

At the cousin's wedding a few years ago, I sat down and had a conversation with Nana, and she made a comment that she missed me and wished I'd call once in awhile.  I brushed it off, thinking that she was again, just being nice.  She died around the same time as my dad, and when I emailed her daughter to give my condolences, and she told me that Nana asked that she bring my thank you notes to the hospital before she passed. 

When I found out about that I cried for so long, because not only was she gone, but there was no chance of getting to know her.  Years that she wasn't just being polite, but she actually did like me, and I could have had another grandma.  She wouldn't have even kept my thank you notes if she didn't care.  An entire relationship lost because of one comment that my cousin made.

Now I have to worry about being diabetic because of another lasting effect of something someone else manipulated me into doing.  I'm not saying they are all 100% to blame, but I'm still disappointed that other people can mess with my life that much.

Uneasy

I went to get my blood test and see where my thyroid was.  Everyone I've talked to said that it would take at least a year before anything would happen for me, and to just be patient.  Everyone told me this so much, in fact, that I called and left a message with the doctor to just call me and let me know when they'd called my new prescription into the pharmacy and I'd go pick it up.

I got a message back from one of the nurses to call her.  I didn't understand why she just didn't call in the prescription and leave me a message.  After an entire day of playing phone tag, she finally called me when I was able to answer the phone.

"So, your level is at a 2.(something).  You're fine.  You can keep taking what you are taking."  I was shocked.  I had no idea how to respond, because so far I'd felt no improvement.  Sure, my limbs weren't losing circulation the way they used to, and it felt like the depression was gone, but I associated that mostly with being able to work again, and having such amazing co-workers.  But, apparently, something that took everyone else years to accomplish, I'd gotten in 6 weeks.

"I don't feel any different.  I still have no energy, and I haven't lost any weight." I told her.  She responded with give it a couple of weeks, and make an appointment if nothing had changed.  Maybe it was something else, she said.  I don't want anything else wrong with me.  I just want people to stop asking me when I'm due.

Then the last week of training at work, something happened that just happened to take place beside me, and I almost lost my job.  I can't get into it, it's far too convoluted, but it made me think I might not want to be at this company.  They were asking things of me that compromised my integrity.  They also basically made me dance like a monkey for them in order to keep my job.  Then they told me that I had to tell my new supervisor the whole story, as part of my punishment.  I'm still waiting for the Scarlett "A" that I'll need to sew onto all my clothes.

My new crew doesn't seem like this, which makes me pray it was an isolated incident with those particular supervisors.  I really need the money, and the emotional support.

A Bi-Polar Week

I started my new job last week.  It is everything and more that was promised, and I love it there.  While I'm in training, and for hours afterward, I was really happy, all week.  We all went out for happy hour on Friday, and I had an awesome time.

But today I've had time to think, time to regress back a little and think about other things in my life.  The week before I was back home visiting and helping out at a show.  I love being home because it's so much better than my current town, which is vapid and everyone is a fake.

But something happened back home.  I saw a friend in a different light, and it changed our friendship.  I no longer want to call her up and tell her how my week went, because I have the sneaking suspicion that she really doesn't care. I began noticing that whenever she called, it was about a problem she was having, and there seemed to be no time for my worries.  Her troubles with her boyfriend far outshown my new issues with my thyroid problem.  She even seemed to ignore the fact that I'd told her before I came that not only would I be tired all the time, but I'd be a little cranky too.  She insisted on bringing a friend with us everywhere who I don't like, and I really didn't like the way she was treating her new boyfriend.

While I was there she seemed to grow impatient with me if I didn't answer her texts right away, even though she knew I was out trying to help my mom.  Yet she showed up late to places and it seemed to be okay.  It seemed like she had become the kind of person that I avoided.  I hated that I felt like I was losing a friend.  Even on the last day I was there, after telling her to please call me before she flaked out on me, she called a solid few hours after she was supposed to show up to say she wasn't going to show up.  I felt hurt and betrayed, and then after some mis-communication I got another passive aggressive note from her, in a public forum.  It was the final nail in the coffin for me.

I've even given her the address for this blog, and told her how much writing means to me, but she's never logged on.  Maybe someday she will, and she'll see this, and know it was about her.  But somehow I think not.

So I left home disheartened, but waking up at 5AM the next morning for the job.  The job is so great though.  I was so happy all week, riding along on a cloud.  Everyone I met I loved, and I feel like I'm finally making friends in this town.  But today I'm thinking about it, and I'm sad about a friend that I feel like I've lost.  In her mind, nothing has gone wrong at all.  That makes me more sad.

The Pep Talk

In almost 7 hours I will be 30.  My New Years Resolution was to not fret about this.  To think about it in a positive light.  To not concentrate on how I should've accomplished more by now, but by how now everyone will take me seriously because I'm not a "twentysomething."

It's hard.  But it will come, and time will pass.  I can't stop time from coming, and I will be another year older.  I've been sick for the past few days, and have no plans tomorrow because I have no friends in this town.  Sure, I might get a few posts on my stupid Facebook Wall, but that's all that is happening tomorrow.  Even my mom said "give me a call tomorrow if you feel better."

For some reason I keep thinking about how my 21st birthday didn't turn out the way I wanted it to either.  It was smack in the middle of spring break, and everyone went on vacation.  I had my then future husband and my family.  We went to my favorite prime rib joint, and then the future hubby and I went to the bar for a drink.  The bartender asked for my ID, and didn't even wish me a happy birthday.  We shared a big fishbowl drink that was sort of tasty, but way too big.  Then he just drove me home, and I went to bed.  No party, no big deal made.  It just passed, and I was disappointed.  There were no surprises.

Tomorrow will be the same.  I'll wake up, we might go out to lunch before the hubby goes to work.  And then I'll be alone.  I'll make dinner, and I'll watch a movie, and I'll go to bed.  No fuss made, no surprises.

I'm not fond of this friendless pattern.  But when I think of posionious friends I've had, I'd rather be here then dealing with issues they have on my birthday.  At least my birthday belongs to me.

It may look like I'm doing nothing, but I'm actively waiting for my problems to go away.

"I can't wait..." has become my new catchphrase.  I say it out loud, but I say it more to myself.  I'm becoming a little obsessed with Future Me.

During mealtimes, I say to myself "I can't wait until my stomach is small enough that I can't use it as a table."

Looking in the mirror after a shower, "I can't wait until my tummy is smaller than my boobs."

Putting on a low cut shirt, "I can't wait until I drop from a C cup to a B cup again.  I look like a fat hooker.  There is no chance of 'perky' with a C cup."

Looking into my closet: "I can't wait until I fit into....any of these, really."

I just realized I need fat clothes for my first day of work in April.  Maybe I'll get some money for that from family...for my 30th birthday.

Sigh.  Is it the future yet?

"So, When Are You Due?"

While I was paying for my oil change today, I got the dreaded question, again.  The slightly older saleslady smiled at me and said "So, when are you due?"

It stings.  It always stings, but this time I knew it was because I wasn't looking forward to how it was going to feel the rest of the day.  I knew in my mind that it would haunt me the rest of the day.  It would eat away at my self esteem, until I was in sweatpants on the couch watching "Pretty Little Liars" feeling incredibly sorry for myself.

"The cars are ready" I texted my husband, who was inside the store; "forget about the ice cream on the list."

TMI?

Monday I had to wake up early to go to the doctor.  I told him about all my symptoms, he agreed it might be a thyroid condition, and set me up for blood work to be done next week.  While I was there I asked him to take a look at my tonsil, which had a white spot on it.  I just wanted to make sure it was nothing serious.  He told me it was the beginning of an infection, just gargle with salt water and it should come out.  He said he didn't feel it warranted antibiotics, and I agreed.  It really just felt like I had a bit of food stuck in my throat, otherwise I felt fine.

Later in the afternoon I went to the interview with Job A.  The interviewer was a very nice guy, but seemed to be holding back, as if peaking at me through a set of drapes.  He dissed my resume, saying I should have dates and my entire job history on it.  I mentioned I used to work at a video store, he asked if I had seen a particular obscure movie.  I didn't know it, that seemed to be a point against me.  I found myself floundering on questions I normally would've answered with conviction.  Then a team leader came in, and apparently she was on the "good cop" side, because I had no problems connecting to her and showing my stuff. 

I was returned to the first guy to take a test, which, once we got to the testing area, was being used.  He turned to me, saying "I assume you know how to cut and paste?" He asked.  "I'm a master cut and paste-er." I said, and he laughed.  He told me to send him a complete resume and he'd get in touch with me.

I felt like he didn't like me.  I really wasn't sure, he really did seem to hide behind a veil, as if he didn't want someone to see how he actually was.  It shook me, and I was sure I had screwed it up.

The anxiety grew more and more as the day wore on, and I couldn't stop my mind from freaking out about my whole life.  I started to wonder why I hadn't asked the doctor that morning for some anti-depressants.  Obviously this wasn't getting any better...what was I going to do? 

At 2AM I finally laid down to try and sleep, and felt something come from the back of my throat onto my tongue.  I went to the bathroom and spit it out, and it was the spot on my tonsil.  It was the size of a peppercorn, and I was grossly intrigued by it.  I went and got a flashlight and looked at my tonsil, and saw a huge hole in it.

Suddenly, seeing that crazy hole, I felt better.  It was the same feeling that cutters describe, the release of concentrating on a physical pain instead of the emotional pain.  I suddenly knew everything was going to be okay.  My throat started to hurt, but I took some medication and went to bed.

By the next morning, Job A called to say I got the position.

Subconscious, Subconscious, Go Away

My mom was sitting on the couch, watching an old family movie.  I knew she would do this when it was time, so I put it in for her and we sat and watched it together, holding hands. 

She looked over at me and told me to take care of my sister, and not to be worried that this is how she had decided to end her life; before her health got too bad and the "quality of life" was down.  I told her she wasn't leaving me with many instructions, like what belonged to who in the house.  She said I could figure it out, and walked out of the room.

I awoke with a start, 6:00AM.  This time I didn't burst into tears right away and wake my husband, I held it together until I could leave the room.  Then I sobbed, and worried that my dream was prolific, and wanted to call my mom right away.  It took me 15 minutes to realize it was Saturday and when I talked to her last night she said she hoped the cat didn't wake her up because she wanted to sleep in.  I emailed her to call me, and now I sit and wait to see if my subconscious is correct, or if I have to just stop watching the last season of Buffy before I go to bed at night.

1 down...

I just finished my interview with Job B.  It sounds like something I'd be really good at, and she said it's basically going to turn into doing the social media for all the employees of the property.  It's a lot of writing, and I love writing.  I really think I can do it, but I just don't know.  I'll be called next week to either be out of the running or in for a second interview.

My mom and one of my friends said I should take job B if offered, and then if it doesn't work out, just quit and take job A (If I got Job A it wouldn't start until April, which would give me time to see if I like Job B).  I just don't know, it seems wrong.

I guess I'll figure out how I feel after Monday's interview.  Wish me luck!

Self Esteem at an all time low

I think what I need, more than anything right now, is someone that knows me really well to remind me of how awesome I used to be.  Because right now, I feel worthless.  I feel stupid and not worth anyone's time.  I feel so alone.

I got an email today to interview for another job (Job B)on Friday.  The job that I've been waiting for (Job A) is set for me to interview on the 31st.

Job A was voted a top Forbes "Best Place to Work."  It's answering phones and doing customer service, but it has potential to do more of the things I'm interested in.

Job B pays more.  I've worked for the company before, however, and there is NO chance of them being a "Best Place to Work" anytime this century.  I've been burned by them before.  But this is a different location, and it's, please excuse the expression, "a grown up job."  But, with grown up positions come grown up consequences.  I can see myself working too many hours and it losing it's fun quickly.

I'm still shell shocked from the last job.  I gave it my all, and I got dumped.  My job situation is very very very much like dating.  I had a guy, the guy wanted to take it to the next level, I said okay.  Then he got distant and moody.  I keep asking to have a talk with him, but he ignored me, and then without any warning dumped me.  I've been dumped before, and I'm gun-shy about it now.  I almost feel like what's the point?  I'm going to end up getting hurt anyway, and is it something I'm doing?  Is it me?  Is it the guys(job)?  And what do I want to do with my life anyway?

My New Years Resolution to myself was to not worry about turning the big 3-0.  To take life lightly, and let myself off the hook about feeling like I'm not where I wanted to be in my life.  Does that mean taking Job A?  Because if I really wanted an important job when I turn 30 in a couple of months, Job B would be it.

I'm lost.  I'm alone in my feelings, and it feels like no one understands how horrible I feel about my whole life.

Friendship

My mom just sent me a link to a story for this book, which is out tomorrow.  Basically it started with this woman having a horrible experience in college where she was basically backstabbed in the extreme by a bunch of girls from a sorority. 

As I read the article, I became more and more relived to find that I wasn't alone.  I've had two female friends my whole life that haven't been backstabbing, horrible individuals.  I wish I was exaggerating. 

One was my best friend in 6th grade.  We weren't the same person, but we fit together, and we were always there for each other.  I know people say that kind of dumb crap all the time, but in this case it was actually true.  If I was upset about anything, she would be there for me no matter what.  I can only recall one fight we ever had, and that ended with us bursting into laughter and forgetting the fight the second after it happened.

Nothing ever happened to break up our friendship, we just started hanging out with different people.  We went through junior high and high school never even seeing each other in the halls between classes.  She wasn't the type to join Facebook or even really have a computer at all, so I never expected to see her again.  As my life went on, through college and afterward, my mind sometimes wandered towards her, but her name was too common to Google without much luck.  I always hoped she was happy and everything was okay with her.  I knew I'd never really see her again.

Cut to last month, when I went with my husband to Disneyland to celebrate his birthday.  It was the end of our annual passes, and we were getting the most out of it, staying at the Grand Californian so we could go back to the hotel room whenever we wanted.  Hubby had convinced me to go on the Grizzly River Run for the first time.  I had avoided it because it was a water ride, and I desperately hate to get wet and then walk around all day in wet clothes.  I agreed to go if we went back to the hotel and I could change into my bathing suit and a cover up.

It turns out it's one of those wet rides where you are in a big round rubber tube with a bunch of other people.  It forces people to be social, since you really can't be on your cell phone when water is coming down all around you.  We talked with our group until the end of the ride, but it was a little difficult, since most of them didn't really speak English.  We decided we were a little wet, we might as well go again, since this would be our last time in the parks.  The second time was fun as well, more people spoke English.

As we exited, Hubby said "Ready to go back to the hotel?"  And for some reason, I wanted to go one last time.  It had been so lonely at home since losing my job, and I was really craving some interaction.  So one last time we went, and after the ride and an embarrassing fall down the stairs afterward (my shoes became so waterlogged, I fell) I knew I had reconnected with my 6th grade best friend. 

She was in the ride with us, next to my husband, with HER husband, who was...get this...celebrating his birthday.  They were staying at the same hotel, on the same floor, and we were leaving the next day, they had just arrived that day.  If that one moment hadn't come to pass, we would have never reconnected, never came across each other.  In fact it was her mannerisms, and not her face, that I recognized.  It was my gut that somehow knew she was who she was. 

It was one of the coolest things that has ever happened to me.  I feel like, because everything else has sucked lately, fate saw fit to give me a piece of what made me myself back.

And, as luck would have it, Facebook brought my other best friend back as well.

On the relationship front, life is good.