The past week I’ve had all to myself before beginning my new job April 25th. It wasn’t the most productive week and I wish I could have gotten around to other things, but I’ve had enough rest. Most of the energy has been spent trying to distract from the growing worry about the new demands/people/environment I’m going to have to get used to. I’m scared I’m not smart enough, assertive enough, mature enough to make such a change as this from the simple job I’ve finally escaped. Maybe I’m not sharp enough anymore to wrap my mind around what I’ll need to learn. Still struggling to be on my own side and not destroy what I’ve worked so long to have…
Well April 25th is exactly six months from my birthday October 25th. An odd surprise when I first learned of it and I guess something to look forward to. If I make it six months, to age 27, maybe I’ll believe by then that I’m safe to make long term plans.
I have a small 5 x 7 pad of sketch paper that I’ve used for little flower paintings like this. The size makes them easier to send through mail when I decide to give them away.
I called in my absence at work last night to cover today’s overtime. Six days a week has been the normal for several weeks and I’m getting really sick of postponing my plans. There isn’t much respect for our personal lives so I have to take care of this myself with making that personal time a priority. We don’t get these days back, so I’m often now deciding what is worth more: my time or the hours given for money I have little time to spend…
I really need to get away. Find someway to reconnect to what has significance to me.
I had my first full blown panic attack on Tuesday. It was right in the middle of a meeting at work. I felt nauseous, knelt on the ground because I would have dropped from the sickness, then out of nowhere my vision starts to close in and my heart begins racing. Gasping for breath and tears streaming- I couldn’t speak or control what was going on. One of my co-workers basically jumped in and helped me get outside for air and gather myself…I could tell afterward that I scared a lot of people and I was embarrassed for the attention, being the one who normally says nothing but hello and goodbye.
It was frightening to me, too. I never knew something like it could come over me so suddenly. I had been upset before the attack but nothing that would indicate it would happen. I’m confused if somehow I induced it or if the whole thing was just going to happen anyway, no matter what was on my mind that day. In any case, I hope it was a one time experience, but we’ll see. Quite a week it has been. I am now writing a short letter to the co-worker who helped me and will give that along with a jewelry piece to her out of gratitude.
Below is the last portion of a poem I wrote. I sang it with piano several weeks ago, trying to get my grip again and move on.
“The desperate moment we are given a taste…
The beauty of that aged ache soullessness creates.
A glimpse past the disadvantage of human eyes –
Bridged finally within mind,
Punishment and promise defined.”
So there is news. I gave my notice last Friday and am in the middle of my final week. Two months by anyone’s opinion is awful, but I gave it a shot. I’m not physically well enough to sustain much longer – full time this way is becoming intolerable – but I feel less self hatred this time around for choosing to part ways. There’s nothing I’m afraid of or particularly running from. And the pressure of others always in my head has disappeared now that the decision is made. The panic I felt about having to stay, having to make it work, or else I couldn’t live…it won’t do. Fitting into anything I’m clearly incompatible with is what has wasted the most of my time, on earth actually. My entire life, one big waste of worry and self inflicted hurts.
I don’t care what happens next. If I get my strength back maybe it will be enough to dream past all I thought I was supposed to do and be- let it go and never look toward that for meaning and worth ever again.
A crayon disaster…
You do what you’re told
Always here, always there.
You have nowhere else –
No will to follow
And the rest of what you are left as
Will not let go.
Just warming up. I hate the way I look when I’m singing…lol Sorry for looking so awful here, btw. It’s a day after I’d given my notice at the bakery. I’d just finished up with looking online for other jobs…
I drove to pick up my last check there this morning and was surprised to see someone else was already being trained at part of all that I was doing. No one else said hello to me or goodbye on my way out. All of that’s okay though. If the new chick stays three months, after surely having some kind of confrontation/words with the owner and being trapped in a number of overwhelming situations, they might have a good one to keep.
It’s going to take time to stop feeling like a tossed piece of trash, but I know now it wasn’t a mistake to remove myself from the situation. I was very unappreciated and feel more pity than anything for the one replacing me. From all of this though, I’m drifting without much will or direction. I’m sad to see the end of a situation not equal the end of my time here all together honestly– that I’ll have to start over and things may be worse than what I just got away from.
Some left over sketches.
I gave my two weeks’ notice to the bakery today. Typed and signed. I said they should call me in advance within that time if I’m needed (otherwise I won’t be showing up at all). I left in the seventh hour, just as I was once again being pulled from one task before it was complete to do something else. I got angry in that instance and after beginning the task I was asked to do, I quietly and calmly took a breath – put down my tools, clocked myself out and left.
They’ve pulled me here and there like a frayed elastic band for over six months and today I’d had enough. I might crash and burn in the coming days, completely starve the rest of what’s still alive within, but right now I’m feeling the relief of a clean escape. ”Clean” as in I have no regret and no shame.
Whatever it is we’re all supposed to do with our lives at my age- be damned. It hasn’t worked for me and won’t. If that means I’m going to lose and gain nothing, at least it will be my own way.
“The pain that grips you…”
I wrote the poem below after having an interview months ago- then later on sometime I turned it into a song. The whole thing is about that process: preparing for the interview, trying to stay positive only to have a moment pass where you know you’ve been rejected. Anyway, I don’t usually use poems like this as lyrics, but I loved the escape it gave if nothing else.
And For What?
I showed up, sweetly.
So clean and decently draped,
A smile and lifted gaze,
With all things acceptable and
Yet, once the uniform questions began to be spoken
I was punctured by the edge.
Life and death between your pen and written,
Ripping at my flesh.
Sickened to feel I am a threat – I am the unwanted.
My soul is handed over
All is done.
Lacking faith for the risks I take…
I put together a gift package for my mother this week, just because. A gift card, small box of chocolates and a scarf I saw her admiring. I feel bad for her having to be the only one around when I go through my low moods. Putting up with my distant and cold behavior…She’s far more patient with me than I’ll ever be toward myself.