yup.

It’s friday, my last day here at this job.  While last week I was distraught and crying for 2 days in a row, something clicked and I realized this needed to happen a long time ago (but preferably on my terms).

I got too comfortable here.  There wasn’t much to do, except process a couple of orders a day (which took maybe 20 minutes total)  and post scammy housing ads on craigslist.  Definately not gonna miss that.  

This job was so draining.  I would spend hours a day online reading blogs, writing blog posts, reading the news, trying to get the hours to pass, and feeling guilty for not really working.  All that boredom and guilt has really dragged me down.  

I won’t miss hearing my boss scream bloody murder at her kids (pregnant women are so cranky).  I won’t miss hearing her complain about her non-participant-in-parenting husband.  I won’t miss her husband either.  

I will miss her kids though.  I had never been around kids for a long period of time (almost 2 years) watching them grow and change.  When I started, the youngest wasn’t even crawling.  Now she is running down the driveway (with mother screaming bloody murder) and telling me to get to work in the office.  I think her mother is teaching her well.

This beautiful companion of a plant.  I will miss the plant.  It was dying outside in the baking sun, wilted brown and yellow, sad and pathetic when I started, and I brought it inside for less light (there is a big skylight) and watered it, and talked to it.  Now it is green and lucious.  I feel we really connected.  And in 7.5 hours, I will leave it to it’s impending doom.  

I have not found another job yet.  Not one single reply to my emails and attached resumes.  Did I accidentally list my skill of “wasting between 5-7 hours a day lazily reading blogs and surfing the net”?   Shoot.  I’ll have to correct that.

But I’ll be okay. In fact, I am taking a 5 day trip back east to visit a friend.  It will be nice to get out of town for a few days, celebrate my freedom, have some girl talk, and hang out with her 2 year old.  I will be refreshed and energized when I come back, ready to pound the pavement (that phrase reminds me of my mom) and beg people to pay me large sums of money (with full benefits) for drawing pictures all day.

7.48 hours to go.

I won’t miss this clock.

This is my last week at this job.

I had a bit of a breakdown last Tuesday and Wednesday, but regained focus late on Thursday afternoon.

What a fantastic weekend!  Not to mention it was a holiday weekend, but it was great.  I wish weekends were 5 days a week, and the work week was only 2 days.  I would be able to handle that.

So I got my resume updated, and have sent it out to many places already.   So far, not one response.  It’s okay, I just started sending it out on Sunday, it is only Tuesday (trying to make myself feel better).

OH please let me get a job soon.  And not one that sucks.  Preferably with great benefits, at a higher salary/wage.  Ooo with paid vacations.  In a relaxed environment.  With cool people.

oh please….

Yesterday. She was very sorry, you see, because they are going to loose their second house, they have to sell one of their cars, and fire the cleaning lady, and get rid of me, their sole employee.

Did I mention she is having baby #3 next month?
Yeah.

And she kept saying

“i’m so sorry, so sorry”
and standing there with a sad look on her face while I TRY TO MAKE HER feel better about it

“its okay, I understand you have to,” I say, trying not to cry.

“I’m so sorry” “I’m really sorry”
as my nose turns red, and my eyes water up.

“it’s ok, really, I’ll be fine”

“oh no. now I made you cry. I’m so sorry”

“stop saying that!”

AAArgh.
Her kids were crying so she left to go soothe them, and I burst into tears as I packed up the day’s orders and made shipping labels.

So…
I left early and went straight home to cry on the couch, and then took 4 ativans, which made me feel like a freightliner filled with bricks (and gave me a headache this morning) and watched tv until bedtime, where I swiftly fell asleep.

This morning, slightly hungover, I feel… a bit numb.

All this work I have been doing for the last couple of weeks, new thoughts of possitive thinking, new medication (he added wellbutrin to get rid of some pesky sexual side effects) and new outlook… I was doing better. I was able to sleep at night and wake up and get things done at work, and generally (not all the time) be alright.

Now I hit this wall.
I have two weeks.
I don’t know if I can handle the job search.
I don’t know if I want to work for someone
I just want to get in my car and drive and drive and drive.
I never want to work again.

I just want to go back to bed, but alas…. I am here at work… for now.

This one was perhaps induced by the medication I have been taking (Lexipro anyone?)

My boyfriend and I walked from the parking lot at my old community college (150 miles from where we live) into the main campus area. He went off to his class, and I decided, not being fond of math class, to skip my class, and hang out in the library until he was ready to go home.
It was pretty crowded and I stood watching students bustle here and there, off to their classes, huddled in social groups.
Then one person pointed up to the sky and yelled “that plane is too low!”
Everyone looked up to see a big passenger plane slowly jetting across the sky towards the main library building.
(might I add here that the plane looked really small for being so low, and the library building was about 5 times larger than life, making it look like it was at least 10 stories tall)
The plane was headed directly for the building. At the last second, it pulled up as far as it could, and just cleared a ledge, but then crashed into a raised portion of the roof.

Everyone was screaming and gasping, I put my hand up to my mouth and watched. Then I tried to call 911 on my cell phone, which for some reason was difficult. I ended up connecting to some guy named Richard (who tried to hit on me), and tried to hang up on him, which took a few tries. I never did get through, but by then, sirens were wailing and firemen came.
It was dark and everyone was still in the main area watching and crying as they pulled dead bodies out. They did pull a child out, who was living, and someone in the crowd just hugged her.

I hugged a couple of people. One woman had a teal terrycloth tracksuit on and was middle age. After I hugged her I said I can’t believe that just happened. She said “thank you” as if I had just made that comment about our hug. I started to correct her to say I had meant that about the plane crash, but she walked away.

Strange huh. I think I need help.

Oh that’s right. I am getting help.

What does this all mean?

Just a quick one today-

I haven’t been writing, cause I have been dealing.

Not drugs-

But just dealing with life.

Yeah I am depressed, my boyfriend is being supportive, and I still hate myself.
Good news though-
I’m seeing both a psychiatrist AND a psychologist today.

My psychologist suggested I see a psychiatrist and start some medication (which I feel weird about, and weak, and stupid and lame, but I’ll give it a go).

Yes it is complicated, and calling insurance, setting up appointments and whatnot is enough to take someone who is depressed over the edge, but somehow I made it through.

Now, I just have to make it through two “professional” appointments.

And I still feel lame.

In the meanwhile, I found this somewhere on the web, and I love it. I want to do it. Anyone getting rid of a spare pressure washer?

she said she didnt like to give diagnosis’s but she had to for my insurance reasons.

what was it you ask?

Major Depressive Disorder

its weird. I knew I was depressed, but hearing the diagnosis from a professional is different.

Not sure how I feel about that.

Sad. 

I feel sad.

I finally met with a psycologist.

THANK YOU!

whew.  I did a ton of crying, and we didnt get too far, it being a initial meeting to see where I stand, and what the standard procedures are.

It sure went fast too.  Crap. Just like those massages, you blink and its over with.

But one thing that stood out, when talking about my family, friends, relationships, and where I am at the moment, was the fact that my boyfriend believes in me.  She said it, when I was trying to describe why he was trying to motivate me and encourage me, she said “he believes in you”

ding!

holy shit.

He does, doesnt he?

wow.

I am thankful for him.

I also look forward to the next appointment- friday late afternoon.

The night before last, one part of the dream I remember is my boyfriend pushing me out of bed.

I got back in and he pushed me out again, and I ended up, wrapped in blankets, on the floor.

What does this mean?

Does this mean I feel like he is pushing me over the edge?
Am I letting him take the blame for me falling off the edge?
I woke up angry yesterday because of this, and ended up crying almost all day.

And no, the psychologist never did call back.  
I tried another one, and left another message.

Still no answer.

Why is it so hard to reach out for help? 

i made the call.

I set it up with my insurance.

I left…. a message for a potential therapist.

Crap.  It seems like everytime I give an effort to give a shit about myself,
I don’t get anywhere.   I get the answering machine and then I have to wait.

Its been over 2 hours since I left a call, and since then, my boyfriend has told me that I need to put more effort into making more money so I can contribute more otherwise our relationship will not work out.

God I need a therapist. Please have her call back soon before I do something regrettable.

Let me ask you a question.

During the day, when stress hits you upside the head, and thoughts start going in circles and life seems bleak, do you imagine yourself doing violent things?

Do you picture yourself stabbing the computer screen with your fork or repeatedly smashing your head on a wall hook until it pops open like a coconut filled with strawberry jam?

When I was a kid, and forced to sit in school, where I was bored and unhappy, I realized something: no matter what people force you to do, where you are forced to be during the day, what you have to get done, you always have the privacy of your own thoughts, and can nod and sweetly smile while thinking “fuck you”

Was I a morbid kid?  Maybe just not understood.

It used to be focused against teachers and parents and authoritative types. Imagining myself yelling at them, flipping them off, shoving them out of the way as I leave the room, dancing the can-can on the desks and kicking them, mostly just talking back and screaming.  I did a lot of mental screaming as a kid.

It carries over to today still, imagining hurling myself over balconies at museums, imagining the car accelerating into a telephone pole or off the edge of the road, imagining stabbing myself with scissors, or knives, imagining myself screaming.  Occasionally I’ll have to take a shower where I’ll open my mouth and silently scream as the water runs and I sob for a while.

Where is this sadness coming from?

My doctor says that everyone occasionally thinks the world would be better without them. 

So is this normal.

Am I ok?

It feels like I should have a specific reason- like being raped/molested as a kid, or seeing a parent die as a kid.

But as far as my memory serves me, I have not been through any such event.

(and it makes me more sad that I am sad for no reason)

  I was cruising around the net this morning at work… (shhhhh!) and came across this anger filled “article” on Michelle Malkin’s blog.

 What got to me (after the initial “wha?”) was the endless comment section, where one commenter after another said hateful, ignorant things. 

 While I completely understand people have different opinions than others, and while I completely support the discussion of these opinions and freedom of speech, the one thing I noticed was how the conservative side of this discussion was so all-inclusive, all decisive, and no buts about it correct, and all liberals were deemed to be unpatriotic because they refused to group every single Muslim on earth into the terrorist label.

  (for those of you too lazy to read the article, here is a short summary:  Rachel Ray (annoying “yummo” celebrity chef) recently did a commercial for Dunkin Donuts where she is wearing a scarf.  The scarf looks to some like the traditional muslim scarf (keffiyeh) that is common attire for most people in the muslim world.  The Big Brother propoganda videos (a.k.a. news and media and what not) has convinced a large portion of Americans to see that traditional scarf (or something similar) as a symbol of hate and terrorism and death and fear and everything that America is against.  (if you dont understand the Big Brother reference, go pick yourself up a copy of 1984) 
 Enough complaints led to Dunkin Donuts to remove the commercial to not imply any terrorist support.   

 Wow. Whether that scarf is the traditional scarf as accused, or whether it is just some paisley design that would be better suited for the likes of Joan Rivers, the comment section is where it got ugly.

  I’d rather not post the words on here, for they do not represent my beliefs.  

 Comparisons to the swastika, the KKK are made.

 Very interesting to hear two sides of political ideology, as my parents are full blooded republicans, and I tend to lean more democratic, though prefer to stay unaffiliated to any “group” due to the volatile nature of politics.  I could picture my dad saying some things like this sadly.  (I’ve heard him say so many things about mexicans, it makes my head spin) (i’ve also heard him talk about Obama and “not likin’ his name”) geesh.

   So my question: does this make me naive?  

  Since I would rather not group every Muslim (or everyone who lives in the middle east) as a terrorist or terrorist supporter, does that make me stupid?

  Expanding from that, does wanting peace make me some silly liberal who doesnt understand that people need to kill others and blow up things to make things better? 

 This confuses me   

Side note: the header picture for this post is off of Michelle’s flickr page.

  I am curious, seeing Michelle, and noticing she looks like she has some asian heritage, or Phillipines (forgive my ignorance) I wonder, if we had some national conflict with an asian or south pacific country and suddenly everyone was against people who even looked slightly of asian decent or maybe liked a certain asian food or something silly like that, would Michelle see this as the same thing?  If terrorists were suddenly from the country her heritage came from, would she have the same views?

  Maybe its the schooling I received, maybe its just innate, but I can’t help but put myself in the place of other people, accused people, people who may have something in common with a guilty party, but who are guilty only by association. 

 silly me.   

Yeah. Last night was not good.

It started at work, on an errand, I had some trouble finding the parking lot for the store I went to (it was unmarked and shady looking) and then I couldnt find what I needed, and was on the wrong floor, and then when they said to pull my car around to the loading dock, the dock wasnt open, so I kept driving back and forth, and then all of a sudden, it was open and they stood their and looked at me like I was an idiot for taking so long.

That was ok.  I could have handled that.  No problem.

Then on the freeway coming back to work, I transitioned to the next freeway going North, but I really needed to go South.  Fuck.  This set me off, and I was instantly in tears, banging on my steering wheel.  I then proceeded to scream loudly (just so you know, I am not a screamer, I am very introverted and quiet and usually hold things in).  I screamed twice, and then turned around and went back to work.

Later, at home, I watched some election coverage and the speaches and ate dinner.  We decided to work on a promotional project of mine, which has taken quite a bit of time thus far, and we tried to figure out the text and what it would say.  This has been in my mind for days now, and nothing seems like it will work.  I finally got frustrated and gave up and started a bath for myself.  The BF came in and mentioned I easily get frustrated with things.  I mumbled “yeah” and he asked if I should be going for this freelance stuff and I mumbled “maybe not”

Then I proceeded to cry and sob in the bathtub for an hour, went to bed, cried some  more and fell asleep.

My eyes are tearing up right now thinking about it (and yes, they are very puffy from last night’s crying)

Here it is:

Am I doomed to work jobs I hate all my life?
Will I never be able to work on my own projects on my own time and enjoy them?
Can I not handle freelance jobs?
Can I not do what I want to do?

Should I just give up and go on disability and start an alcohol problem and eventually get to the point where I am suicidal?

I feel lost.

I miss weed.

I admit, about 4 years ago, I was a serious pot-head.  A college graduate, a waitress, a creative person, and a pot head.

I felt more creative when I was high.  I felt so relaxed and invincible when I was high.  Sure I had some paranoia on occasion, and when I was sad, weed made that sadness even stronger.  But it was great.  Listening and playing music was great.  Reading books and watching movies was great.

I miss it.

I do realize however, it was a total crutch and I smoked weed to escape from dealing with things.
Perhaps being such an avid pot-head for so many years in a row has left me with little practice in dealing with emotions and memories.  The last 4 years without weed has been hard.  Many times I find myself wishing to escape to my sanctuary of a couple of tokes and a trippy movie like “A Bug’s Life”  (which by the way, if you smoke weed, you should check that one out- their eyes and skin texture is what got me)…

I felt more alive, and more connected to my spiritual self.

Yoga is helping me with that, though it seems to be much more subtle and harder to achieve than smoking and taking a hike in nature.  But it seems like it’s healthier, and my lungs are happier, and I am much more clear headed when the session is over, unlike the lethargic fuzzy mind after smoking too much pot.

Why did I stop, you say?  It was getting to the point where it didnt feel that great to smoke.  I felt burnt out, dead to the world, tired of hiding it, tired of not answering the phone when I was high, or answering the phone and acting all weird and freaked out trying to sound normal, tired of unsure drug tests at work, tired of not really wanting to do anything at all. 

Other than that, it was great.       Ha…

Just needed to vent, I think my day job would be so interesting if I were high.

Stuff like this makes me proud to be a californian for the first time in my adult life.

I took another yoga class last night, another spine opening relaxing, restorative class.

Much like last week, last night’s class was inner-peace inducing glory.

I did not, however, have such a strong vision.  Why, you ask?  Was I unable to calm the chatter in my head?  Was I thinking about what I would blog about today as I avoid any action that would minutely be classified as work?

Nope.  

I did learn one thing though, and that is to not position myself so close to the bathroom door.  When someone in your class has un-zen digestion issues and repeatedly gets up during class and walks to the restroom door (talking 4 or 5 times in the hour) and walks back to their mat in a wake of distracting (foul) aromas, it is the hardest thing to concentrate on your breath - not what your breath is breathing, but the breath itself.

I realize meditation takes practice, and distractions will come at you like flies to poop, but this one threw me for a loop.  

Luckily it didn’t linger too long, and wafted to the other side of the room, yogis passing out in it’s trail.
The only thing to keep me from spiritual bliss and the world of distractions was myself…

…and the guy behind me with itchy feet.  shwoo shwoo shwoo

what the-?

shwoo shwoo shwoo

scratch scratch scratch

The light that had begun to trickle down the top of my head suddenly gave way to imagining Itchy Foot Guy scratching his hairy feet, rubbing them on the carpet, scratching them again, rubbing them against each other.

**shudder**