I know there are a lot of people who lay awake at night and worry about their problems. Jilted lovers dwell on the past. Worried housewives fret over the mortgage. Victims of the recession worry about where their next meal or paycheck will come from. What do I think about? Well... I guess you can lump me into the victims of the recession category.
I try to be positive. I try to think that I'll find something, and that I'll somehow get by. It always seems to work out that way, but I hate myself right now. I'm not thriving. I'm not really even living. I'm surviving... and sometimes it feels like I'm barely doing that.
I don't know what to do. I really don't. I'm at my wit's end here, folks, and I have no idea where to go from here. I need help. I hate admitting that, but it's true. I feel like I'm incapable of changing my life. Every time I try I fail.
Failure used to be a foreign concept to me. I was such a good student, and I always strove to make good choices... but that was so long ago. I look at that girl, and I don't see her anymore. It's like she doesn't exist. Because since then I've been reminded time and time again that it's not enough to just be me. It's not enough to just try. The world doesn't want me the way I am, and I don't know how to mold myself into the thing I need to be in order to thrive again. I don't even know where to begin.
This isn't a fair place we live in. We're all judged harshly by those who oppose us.
I refuse to cry. Maybe because I hear my grandmother's voice reminding me I'm not pretty when I cry... and lately being pretty feels like the only thing I have that the world approves of. Or maybe it's because whenever I cried on the phone with my father, he'd end the conversation and then not call again for a long time. All I know is when I cry, nobody seems to listen. So I keep my cool and try not to convert my impending tears into slicing words of anger. But, on the inside, I'm falling apart at the seams and it won't be long until the lump in my throat reduces me to tears.
Simply put I need to feel worthy again. I need to feel like I'm contributing something more than noise.
I found out last night that I'm not getting the job I had my heart set on. My most recent employer sank me with their reference. I'm not sure what was said, but if they stuck to legal topics, it shouldn't have been a bad reference. I was there everyday... EVERYDAY... on time, stayed my entire shift, and did a good job at what I was told to do. Their reason for firing me didn't hold up in court, so legally they fired me without probable cause. I just know in my heart that's not how the conversation went. And I can depend on them to keep on doing it. So now I have to be one of those person's who doesn't include their entire work history on an application because of unethical business practices. I hate being that person. I hate feeling like I have something to hide when I don't.
I also hate playing the part of the victim and this sinking feeling that this blog will be perceived as a pity party. Really, I'm just unloading in the hopes that sleep will find me. Maybe now that I've gotten some of this off my chest I can roll over and dream an angry dream. Because that's how I feel... angry, upset, and, unfortunately, defeated.
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