It is nice to be mouthless. Something I could never have reckoned with as a girl who wanted Hello Kitty to be free to speak her Hello Kitty thoughts. But it is nice not to have to tell you stories of distemper and distaste, not to have to show up and look weak, not to have to…
Sometimes I sit still and I feel as though I have got the whole nation, the whole world’s despair not only over their choice (willing or otherwise) of leader, but of every last little discomfort in their lives. Every last thing going wrong shuffling about in your head, oh cripes, it’s here in mine. It’s not right. It’s killing us. It’s too much.
It’s not yours, something like the Faithful Light will remind me, you only have that slag heap over there. That’s it. All the rest of it is not yours. But, I think, I see it. I know that it exists – hungry babies, pissed-off fathers, the snow in the morning, this grinding in my skull, that any day something horrible will happen – it will, it’s unavoidable – the inevitable brokenness of every last thing. I have just been ignoring it for a while, but it’s true. It’s true how terrible it is.
But. I sit longer and it is also true that I have ice in the freezer which makes the water better to drink and which makes me feel full. I have a mentor who texts me to come in later, to feel better, to get my spunk back. I have a mind that reads spunk and still laughs. I have a mother sleeping soundly in her bed surrounded by my father who loves her and a dog that believes she is the closest thing there is to God. I have kind friends who multiply the thin wisps of kindness I deign to blow hither and thither. I have a dear maniac and a dear brick of a cat. I am not so terribly sick as I might be.
I also had my card today so I was able to buy gas and lunch. That felt entirely luxurious. That and despite the panic attacks, the ones that keep ramping up because I feel so down about my ability to quash them and the insurance shit and the money shit and the other shit, I was able to get home before the snow fell. That’s good.
I did a few things today. I did what I was asked and a sliver more.
So I am going to run off and try and write a few things before this computer crumbles beneath my fingertips. There’s always Fallen London and some DAI to chase around. I am okay. A few hours here and I feel better even if I’m having the neck/shoulders/teeth grinding thing which upsets everything terribly. I am alright. Eventually, maybe we’ll stretch our legs and try and climb up to that next rung on the ladder. But tonight, alright’s alright, alright?
Trundle, crumple, bumble. The cat is in the paper bag.
Stop the whirrrrrrrrl, stop the world!
I am currently more concerned about the drive tomorrow than the questions I’ll be asked and that’s no good. It will be fine.
Time to take it all very slowly and be very clear. My only intention is to get myself to get up to dress myself nicely for work tomorrow and after I am done for the day, I will drive to the interview and answer their questions as well as I can. I will offer everything I can to express my sense that I can take part in their office and make a difference. Then, I’ll figure out how I want to drive home.
I know this driving part of it is suddenly real and under my skin, and the google maps did me no favors, but I can do it. I can really, actually, do it. It’s going to be alright. I’ll be back here to prove it.
It’s just odd, if you come right down to it. I have felt rather weepy and on the edge of things tonight. In part because I went to the store with my mother and younger sister and they bought me things for this interview, regardless of whether or not it was easy for them to afford this, it bothers me. It bothers me that my sister donated funds towards this cause of personal rehabilitation. I…don’t like this at all. And of course, as part of this, I had to be pleasant and try on clothing and take a good look at myself in the mirror and I did not want to do this. The result was…a cannonball of memories and deep, skin-peeling frustration about my appearance, and knowing that my moodiness would throw everyone into a tizzy and I needed something that looked professional and good, so I just mumbled quietly to myself while they brought me matronly looking sweaters and pants that didn’t fit until we settled on an outfit I can make work.
Between this and my brow wax, I feel somewhat better about how I will turn up tomorrow. I will get my nails painted and nearly complete the superfecta. My hair’s still a right mess.
Then, after all of this attempts internal and external to right my ship and get ready for this challenge, we visited with my half-sister and her fiance and kids. My niece and nephew including my niece’s boyfriend. I did sort of feel how depressed and deflated this whole situation makes me – for them, it is easy to make pronouncements and say that it’s completely clear. Get this new job, get rid of the old ones, they’re screwing you, time to take care of yourself. No muss, no fuss, just do it because you’re worth it.
It’s a painful thing, to see something fail, something that was supposed to be so wonderful. And this leap is not just dependent on my wanting it. I….okay.
But I have my assignment written and printed, I have my necklace that glows and shifts color in the light, and I have my best intentions in the world.
I ate the ice cream tonight. After spending the day assiduously avoiding caffeine after another evening of extreme sleep incompatibility, I ate the coffee ice cream. I also put hot fudge on it. I may regret it when I lay in bed tonight and my brain is doing the sort of overclocked magic tricks it did last night. I am hoping to drink more water and…I don’t know, maybe come and do another turn on the couch which sometimes helps, and sometimes doesn’t. It is, of course, as ever, a question of being afraid of it happening rather than any fear while it happens. I’m building aversions that are based on nothing. The bed is not the cause of the sleeplessness. The room is not. It’s the stress in my head venting, fiendishly, mechanically, over my field of vision.
Eventually, I do sleep. I just don’t know when. It wasn’t at 1:30 or 2 when I felt like I could pop my eyeballs out and string them into a necklace, when I felt inescapably trapped in Willy Wonka’s nightmare gondola ride Maybe at 3? I should just get up and not lay there, watching the laser light show my brain puts on. I half-regret forcing myself to submit to the clock rather than the circadian rhythm I’m experiencing – fucked up as it is, it just feels like I can’t let myself lock in this habit, this bad behavior.
I do regret the hiccups that are rocketing through me at the moment. The TV is showing a Dead Like Me marathon, and every muscle in my body aches for relief. We had to move more of those tubs full of Naugahyde and flannel and decapitated mannequin heads and for six hours straight, I worked like a dog, mostly I think because I have this interview and I have this whole idea of leaving now climbing over me. I want to be good about it, even if as I know now, it can’t necessarily be good.
Two years ago, it was the same situation, but the emotions felt different. End of October, I had the delineation of the trip to Italy between one job and the next. After so much struggle, I was offered a doorway out of my problems and I was brave enough to take it. I was farewell partied, twice…I was earnestly saluted and sent off to meet my future. And my future turned out not to need or know what to do with me. My future was having problems of its own. My future and I did not get along. My future gave up.
And now, there’s a compression of time and need. If I get this new position (and I may get smacked in the face with a decline or a “that position has already been filled” note so no excitement yet), it’s just me trying to course correct. It’s just me trying to stabilize. Not to say I don’t care and don’t want the job, just right now…I need a platform that isn’t shaking to stand on.
I need to sleep and I am not tired enough to do it.
And if there was a magic cast, it was a wild magic, so that it did not land precisely, and where it landed, it did not do what it was meant to do.
I am contemplating this job. The job would be back in the same town I grew up, working with the same circle of people, albeit from a different perspective, as the job I spent eight years struggling at before leaving before this new job that has been so wildly detrimental to me and my life.
If I can allow myself to float past the idea that on its face, I don’t have the precise requirements they are looking for and just move into the idea of what it would be like to be in the job itself, it is hard to imagine myself as capable of doing it. Sort of. I don’t know. Each individual piece is part of a puzzle I was working on, too. I know the acronyms, the faces, the area, the issues, the struggles, the gossip. I know the bitchy complainers and the people who pitch in and help wildly. I have friends in most directions.
However, I know that there’s some poisoned relationships I’d now be on the opposite side of. I know that in the years since I’ve been gone, my job has been vacated twice and people are grumpy and displeased with my boss’ replacement. I would be working in concert with the person in my old boss’ role, the person who has been spending the past few years trying to get things organized after my time of struggle and learning. I don’t like the idea of sitting across the table from people who have not had an easy time of it and that’s because of me. I ran like hell to get out of that situation.
I guess I feel a little bit like Typhoid Admin, that every job I exit seems to have increasing levels of desperation associated with it when I go.
Each individual part of the job feels like I could do that. But in sum total, without the degree in the field, just my 8 years effectively standing with my foot in the door, maybe that’s just asking to fail. It’s a job where I will have to be assertive, a self-starter, a person in charge of other people. Can I do that? Today, today, I think I can. It feels in my mind like what I would say when I feel pressure to please regardless of whether or not it’s true. But everyone says that it’s only for me to set up my qualifications and say I’m a fast learner and ready to go.
And for that money, a comfortable place to work and get to, health insurance, where I don’t have to start from square one. It’s worth a shot. It’s worth getting laughed out the door.
+300 words elsewhere
I think it may have been something I ate.
I feel…subpar. Jittery as all hell. But mostly, I think it’s just in my head. I’m just really ramped up these days. Just really ready to pounce or escape or change or start or something and I can’t and all of that unresolved energy and intent is just frying my nerves. I am training myself to be on edge. I hate that.
So here’s a list of peaceful things for me to ponder, relax around, be delighted in, rather than building up this sense of not being able to breathe, sweating, spazzing.
- All I have to do is go to the shop tomorrow. I have lunch already set. I can get coffee if I wish. I know precisely where and how and what will be happening. It will be simple and I may get paid once or twice tomorrow. We can sleep in till 10a.m if we wish. Hopefully not, but we do not have to be made to march alone.
- I have many, many video games to distract me. Lots I can start fresh on. Lots with new features to try out. Lots of shows to watch with different vibes, different haloes of emotion to walk into. Lark Rise to Candleford for scullery maid mode, As Time Goes By for smiley, sleepiness, Penny Dreadful for possible writing propulsion. Playlists and music to update.
- The Mumford show is just a couple weeks away! I listened to them on the way home and it did help, they do have a comfort factor for me. The songs wrap around you in a protective way, like some sort of shield.
- I tried my level best today despite feeling this constant, breathless anxiety, despite really getting why my being there any further is just insanity, I still tried.
- I do not have to talk to, smile at, or impress anyone tonight. I do not have to chew or cavort or regale. I do not have to banter or gather together pearls of wisdom to cast at wandering swine. I do not have to have much more than a pillow to lean against. I am not in charge of anything more than that.
- All of those nights I worried about my teeth and endured only to learn that no spikes are shooting out of my face and that I am actually doing a decent job, gum-wise, save for the incipient cavities that can exist between teeth (how can you get a cavity between your teeth where you can only find a cavity of space, don’t ask me), I can endure this, too. If my mother can endure all her worries, if the people around me can take theirs
- Every now and then I forget I am anxious. It doesn’t have me wholly in its thrall. We have sat here, royally, all of us together, or at least an hour poking at this post, and I remain alive. Just because it feels like I have Sonic’s drowning music on a loop in the back of my mind does not actually mean I can’t breathe or am drowning.
- Tomorrow will be better.