The last blog I posted stated it may be my last blog and that the Pony may be put out to pasture. I've received several messages from folks saying they didn't want me to stop, but I still felt like I didn't really have much more to say that anyone would want to hear. Tonight, it was Therapy Thursday and my writing came up. I told her I had written my last blog. She, too, asked me to reconsider. We discussed why I was considering stopping and she pointed out that my blog is for me, not anyone else and that my writing is a great outlet for me, so whether I choose to share it or not, her opinion is that I should continue to work out my feelings through the keyboard.
And so, I find myself here. Here inside the safety of my blog where there are typically no boundaries, no secrets, lots of digression and the occasional use of the word Fuck.
I walked in to therapy tonight and The Rug Doctor says, "I'm ready." I said, "You think so? We'll see." I sat down and she said, "Well, what have you got?" I said, "Syphilis." Tension breaker, had to be done.
Since I don't really have syphilis, we talked about what has been wearing me down these last couple of months. To bring everyone up to speed, I'll just spill what has been going on.
Towards the end of the summer, I was walking into the Glass Palace and one of the Directors was walking in next to me. We shared idle chit chat and then she said, "Why don't you come work for me?" I said, "yeah right, sure, make it happen." Knowing we were not hiring anywhere in the company due to the budget. She said, "Actually, I do have a position open, you should apply." And that is where the drama started. Long story shortened considerably, I had two interviews, the last of which was on September 1st. I was told they should have a decision in a week or two. I was patient, I told very few people as I don't get my hopes up and I didn't really want anyone to know. The problem is, there are never secrets at the Glass Palace, word gets out. I was getting pressure to go for the new job, but then also pressure to stay in my current position. After all, how could they live without me? Weeks turned into months. Daily interrogations, "have you heard yet?" "any word yet?" on and on it went, heightening my anxiety. If they offered the job to me, should I take it? I was confused. People were tugging on my heart strings, putting guilt on me. Intentions may have been good, however, it was making me crazy. I didn't even know what I wanted to do anymore if the opportunity were to present itself.
Most of me wants change, a new job, a fresh start, distance from the constant drama of the call center. However, weeks have turned into months. Day in, day out, waiting for an email from HR or from recruiting. Nothing. I have finally been told, as of this week, the job is "on hold." It won't happen this year. It might happen next year.
I'm so angry. Angry I got my hopes up. Angry that I put myself out there. Angry that I was strung along. Angry to be put through the ringer by well-meaning, but frustrating co-workers and friends. Angry that I am denied the option to move on. So tired of being told that "things happen for a reason." Tired of all the meme's in life telling me that this wasn't my door, or it wasn't meant to be, or the time wasn't right. Whether the job will or won't become an option next year is unknown. The company is all about budget right now. The company is not about the human beings waiting to hear if they got a job. I feel devalued. I feel strung along. I feel bitter. I feel stuck. I feel hopeless.
I have said a million times before in this blog of mine that I don't have hope for a good reason. I've been let down so many times. Remember "The Year of Angry Pony" where all my weight loss dreams would come true? I ruined that good, didn't I? I am so angry at myself for that. I can't forgive myself. I can't enjoy my horses, I can't enjoy getting dressed in the morning, I can't enjoy eating. I struggle to make each day feel like a gift or to find my positivity. To find the voices that encourage me instead of listening to the ones that like me contained in misery. The Rug Doctor says that I have to have hope from time to time for things to get better. I told her I am basically Wild Bill's victim in Silence of the Lambs. I'm down in that hole, rubbing lotion on my skin and there is no way out. I'm going to be some perverts woman skin suit. That much is certain.
The Rug Doctor asked me to read a book called Rising Strong by Brene Brown. It's apparently part of a series of books, but it talks a lot about being in this stuck place, this "rumble zone" where one tries to figure things out. This place where you wallow for a while. I said to her, "I suppose you're going to tell me I'm right where I need to be," as she often does. And she said, "Actually, yes." Apparently, it is better to exist in this rumble zone and work through it, than it is to bury it all and let it fester and then erupt later into a nasty, pus-filled pocket of emotions that oozes all over everything in your life. Some people can work through this dark place in a week, others over months, some other people, even years. I said, "well, no guessing which category I fit into." The Rug Doctor said it was kind of funny I had brought up the Silence of the Lambs reference earlier, because the author of Rising Strong talks about how Hannibal talks to Clarice in Silence of the Lambs. I guess I should give this book a read, what do I have to lose, I guess.
So, I find myself here, where I always am, working through it. Never truly giving up, but never truly enjoying life to it's fullest.
I'm struggling with being okay with my job and where I am. I'm told I need to mourn the loss of what I hoped would be. It's okay to do that. And then, it's time to re-evaluate where I want to go and what I want to do. Being in the position I am in, where I take care of everyone, rise to every occasion, give all my creativity and ability to others is not healthy for me. It's not what is best for me. So what is? Fuck if I know (as promised earlier, the F word).
In the meantime, I guess I'll just hash it out here until I figure it out.
And so, I find myself here. Here inside the safety of my blog where there are typically no boundaries, no secrets, lots of digression and the occasional use of the word Fuck.
I walked in to therapy tonight and The Rug Doctor says, "I'm ready." I said, "You think so? We'll see." I sat down and she said, "Well, what have you got?" I said, "Syphilis." Tension breaker, had to be done.
Since I don't really have syphilis, we talked about what has been wearing me down these last couple of months. To bring everyone up to speed, I'll just spill what has been going on.
Towards the end of the summer, I was walking into the Glass Palace and one of the Directors was walking in next to me. We shared idle chit chat and then she said, "Why don't you come work for me?" I said, "yeah right, sure, make it happen." Knowing we were not hiring anywhere in the company due to the budget. She said, "Actually, I do have a position open, you should apply." And that is where the drama started. Long story shortened considerably, I had two interviews, the last of which was on September 1st. I was told they should have a decision in a week or two. I was patient, I told very few people as I don't get my hopes up and I didn't really want anyone to know. The problem is, there are never secrets at the Glass Palace, word gets out. I was getting pressure to go for the new job, but then also pressure to stay in my current position. After all, how could they live without me? Weeks turned into months. Daily interrogations, "have you heard yet?" "any word yet?" on and on it went, heightening my anxiety. If they offered the job to me, should I take it? I was confused. People were tugging on my heart strings, putting guilt on me. Intentions may have been good, however, it was making me crazy. I didn't even know what I wanted to do anymore if the opportunity were to present itself.
Most of me wants change, a new job, a fresh start, distance from the constant drama of the call center. However, weeks have turned into months. Day in, day out, waiting for an email from HR or from recruiting. Nothing. I have finally been told, as of this week, the job is "on hold." It won't happen this year. It might happen next year.
I'm so angry. Angry I got my hopes up. Angry that I put myself out there. Angry that I was strung along. Angry to be put through the ringer by well-meaning, but frustrating co-workers and friends. Angry that I am denied the option to move on. So tired of being told that "things happen for a reason." Tired of all the meme's in life telling me that this wasn't my door, or it wasn't meant to be, or the time wasn't right. Whether the job will or won't become an option next year is unknown. The company is all about budget right now. The company is not about the human beings waiting to hear if they got a job. I feel devalued. I feel strung along. I feel bitter. I feel stuck. I feel hopeless.
I have said a million times before in this blog of mine that I don't have hope for a good reason. I've been let down so many times. Remember "The Year of Angry Pony" where all my weight loss dreams would come true? I ruined that good, didn't I? I am so angry at myself for that. I can't forgive myself. I can't enjoy my horses, I can't enjoy getting dressed in the morning, I can't enjoy eating. I struggle to make each day feel like a gift or to find my positivity. To find the voices that encourage me instead of listening to the ones that like me contained in misery. The Rug Doctor says that I have to have hope from time to time for things to get better. I told her I am basically Wild Bill's victim in Silence of the Lambs. I'm down in that hole, rubbing lotion on my skin and there is no way out. I'm going to be some perverts woman skin suit. That much is certain.
The Rug Doctor asked me to read a book called Rising Strong by Brene Brown. It's apparently part of a series of books, but it talks a lot about being in this stuck place, this "rumble zone" where one tries to figure things out. This place where you wallow for a while. I said to her, "I suppose you're going to tell me I'm right where I need to be," as she often does. And she said, "Actually, yes." Apparently, it is better to exist in this rumble zone and work through it, than it is to bury it all and let it fester and then erupt later into a nasty, pus-filled pocket of emotions that oozes all over everything in your life. Some people can work through this dark place in a week, others over months, some other people, even years. I said, "well, no guessing which category I fit into." The Rug Doctor said it was kind of funny I had brought up the Silence of the Lambs reference earlier, because the author of Rising Strong talks about how Hannibal talks to Clarice in Silence of the Lambs. I guess I should give this book a read, what do I have to lose, I guess.
So, I find myself here, where I always am, working through it. Never truly giving up, but never truly enjoying life to it's fullest.
I'm struggling with being okay with my job and where I am. I'm told I need to mourn the loss of what I hoped would be. It's okay to do that. And then, it's time to re-evaluate where I want to go and what I want to do. Being in the position I am in, where I take care of everyone, rise to every occasion, give all my creativity and ability to others is not healthy for me. It's not what is best for me. So what is? Fuck if I know (as promised earlier, the F word).
In the meantime, I guess I'll just hash it out here until I figure it out.
