Scraps

I wish I had something important to say. Instead I'm just here because I like the way it feels when I type. The soft click of the keys and the gentle dispense of the space bar. It makes me more nerdy probably but I am what I am.

Took me a long time to figure out who that was and some days I'm still not sure. I don't think anyone really knows. I'm not good at faking it til I make it either.

I keep trying to push it. I want to make myself better than I am and don't have the strength (?) to try.

Get a Job

There's this part of me that won't let up about having a job.

I'm extremely lucky to not  have to work. For many years I worked paycheck to paycheck and having to not worry so much about finances is a huge relief.

But I still feel like I should be working. A part of me knows that it would likely help rid me of the feeling of restlessness I often experience. It would give me a sense of independence too which I crave. But it also triggers my anxiety.

What if I'm not able to do the very best at the job I've been assigned? What if I can't do it right? What if I make a mistake and it's such a terrible mistake there's no coming back from it? What if I'm not perfect?

If a friend came to me and voiced these concerns, I'd be quick to assure them that no one is perfect. That's it's ok to make mistakes because then we can learn from them. I would encourage them to reach for their goals.

But I'm not that nice to myself and I think I know why. It's not all my fault. I struggle with authority figures. I think it's because I never really had any growing up. My parents pretty much let me do what I wanted and so when someone started telling me what to do because they were my boss, my hackles went up. I also don't like that people often take advantage of positions of power and treat everyone else as less than. No one is better than anyone else.

I've had some pretty heinous bosses.

My first job I started as a busser, then waited tables, hosted and even popped in the kitchen when we needed more toast.
My boss there would walk by and pinch my sides, telling me I should watch my weight. He hired men that leered from the dish pit and cornered us at the bussing station with lewd remarks and wandering hands. He walked the restaurant drunk off wine poured into a coffee cup we were instructed to always keep full. He burned a friend of mine with a pot of hot water because he was drunkenly weaving. He was belittling and unkind. He was selfish and greedy and had no regard for the people that worked so hard for him. He might have owned the restaurant, but we ran it.

Second job was working with kids as a teacher's assistant, then later I became a teacher for 4 year olds
The next boss I had turned a blind eye to any concerns shared. A child bit me but it was my fault. Another teacher was playing favorites with the children and I didn't know what I was talking about. She didn't listen to anything that didn't help her in some favor and the frustrations that came with that were too much. There's right and there's wrong and sometimes they are black and white.

I took time off for awhile due to the extreme stress of working the two jobs and eventually going back to waiting tables full time. I had a hard time in my mid 20s and then when mom died I just needed some time before going back to work. I was grateful to have financial help from my parents. I learned later that it was because my father was selling drugs to support me and my mom. I wish I could go back and be stronger during that time.

When I found the pet store, I thought it would be temporary as I wasn't interested in working retail at all. But this place felt different. They told you were special, important and I needed that. I started as store staff, then was quickly promoted to shift lead and finally as store manager.
I had 3 district managers that I clashed with as a manager. With each of them I received advice on how to run my store better when I felt they had no clue as to how it was being run. In retrospect, I was able to learn some things and by the end of my time as a manager, I was really good at it and my store was happy. But the way I was 'taught' was often done with cruel words instead of support. I remember many days of crying in the bathroom or on the way home. I felt like no one understood that I was trying my best. Of all my jobs though, managing felt like I had the most control. My store, my staff, my customers. But not really. There's always a bigger fish.

I quit my job to move to a different city with my boyfriend, now husband. I wanted back into the pet store industry-specifically to work at the home office behind the scenes. Eventually I got in but my boss was a friend first and that was a near immediate mistake. I was conflicted from the start because I could tell management was not her strong suit and it frustrated me. I wasn't learning anything and I wasn't being acknowledged for the things I did do. I felt worthless and stupid. I even tried to voice these feelings and by the end of the conversation I felt even worse. After 2 years of stressful and emotional days working under  her I got a new boss.

My last boss seemed perfect at first. She listened, supported me and encouraged me. It was as though I'd finally met the best boss for me and I was excited to move forward and try new skills. But I made a mistake. A big one and she treated me differently after that. I felt like I was a child with a parent that was disappointed. I was casually being pushed out of projects and responsibilities but I didn't see it. Each time I showed progress on a project I was working on it was wrong and I was dismissed. It hurt on a personal level and perhaps it shouldn't have. I don't know. I only know that one day I came to work and was happy to see my boss was out for the day. The constant worry of what kind of mood she'd be in was tiresome and stressful.

I haven't worked since. I have days where I hate that she 'won'. I feel weak for letting it happen, for not sticking up for myself. I feel like I was being ridiculous. Who actually likes their boss anyway? But the culture I was groomed in made you feel like you were family even when you were being treated like the cousin no one liked. My last boss affected me more than any other. She showed me trust and kindness and took it away because I made a mistake. I wasn't perfect.

I tried to go back to work to a very low key job. I was an assistant and did just a few errands and things for my bosses. I liked them and since they'd come from a toxic work environment too, they understood me. But I didn't. I couldn't understand why I couldn't shake the skittishness. That feeling of 'what if I do something wrong?' wouldn't go away. I was given a task that I wasn't able to finish, literally because I didn't have the tools and I cried on the way home because I couldn't do it 'right'.

I think about going back to work now and I can feel my stomach jump. I feel my hands go clammy when I imagine that first meeting with a potential superior. Even the idea of an interview makes me nervous. I worry about what might happen if I'm not perfect even though I know logically that's ridiculous.  This is what anxiety does and I hate it. Logically I know I could be happy, have that sense of fulfillment I so desperately miss if only I could work. I've thought about volunteer work too but because of recent events (COVID) so many opportunities are not available. I waited too long. I don't even have my assistant job because it's just not needed. And truly if it was, I don't know if I'd go back. The stress I still feel, the anxiety that still manifests is strong and frustrating.

Find a hobby. Friends have suggested this and I agree it could be helpful. The trouble is, I don't have a lot of interest in finding one. The depression doesn't even let me enjoy the hobbies I already have sometimes so finding something new seems daunting. And again, the fucking COVID makes exploring new things challenging if not down right impossible.

When I feel like this I have to remember that it's ok I'm not working. I am financially taken care of which is something that still feels weird sometimes. Working paycheck to paycheck to not having to work was a huge adjustment. But my husband takes care of me. Not only financially  but with constant reassurance that it's ok I'm not working. That he understands the anxiety that rears its ugly head. I'm very lucky.

But there's still this part of me that can't quite shake that I need to have a job. It's what 'normal' people do. It's what is expected. When people ask what I do, I never know what to tell them. Usually my anxiety won't let me.

Red Caps

The restaurant was crowded. It always was at the conventions but it was one of the only places to eat so we waited. A booth cleared out and we staked our claim. I watched as the waitstaff hurried from table to table, exhausted and no longer smiling for tips. I watched food get delivered and orders taken as I scanned the room and then I saw it. A red cap in a sea of sci-fi costumes.

What the fuck?

I instantly became defensive. Why was someone wearing that hat here? This was a peaceful environment. A place for like minded individuals to gather and talk about all things near and nerdy to their hearts. That red cap didn't belong here.

I shared my disgust with my dining mates and they looked on, amused at my reaction. I couldn't help staring at the back of the cap, trying to imagine what kind of face they had. I watched as others surrounded him, seemingly enjoying his company and that made me angry too. So it wasn't just one of them, brave enough to wear a cap, it was a group.

How could anyone wearing that cap be here? I didn't understand and the longer I stared, the more I got upset.

And then he turned. And his cap said something else entirely. It wasn't one of those caps. I felt like a fool and properly chagrined. Here I was, behaving exactly as I'd assumed that person in the red cap would. Judgy, close minded...I quickly saw the lesson given to me.

Relaying the story later, a friend brought up an interesting point. Why wear a red cap that looks so similar with a 'positive' phrase when you know it's likely to be misinterpreted? I didn't know and I still don't. How does a symbol become so powerful?

I feel my lip curl in disgust when I see a bumper sticker blazing the name I cannot stand. I feel anger begin to rise inside when I see a flag, logo or tshirt stating support for someone my morals forbid me to. It's involuntary. I feel revulsion when I see a swastika, a Hitler salute, a white power hand gesture...it sickens me. And I think about that red cap with a positive message, hidden in a font associated with hatred and bigotry. It felt awkward.

Isn't it already awkward enough?

Tears of a Clown

I've had a song playing in my head for over a week. I don't usually mind when my inner jukebox is on play but this song is depressing.

"Tears of a Clown" by The Miracles

It's about a man that's trying not to show his ex that he's still sad that they're broken up. At least that's how I always interpreted it. But if you break down the lyrics, there's some pretty profound shit in there that could also be talking about depression.

Now if there's a smile on my face
It's only there trying to fool the public
But when it comes down to fooling you
Now, honey, that's quite a different subject

But don't let my glad expression
Give you the wrong impression
Really I'm sad
Oh, I'm sadder than sad
You're gone and I'm hurtin' so bad  <--- probably about a breakup
Like a clown I pretend to be glad

Now they're some sad things known to man
But ain't too much sadder than
The tears of a clown
When there's no one around
Hmm hmm, oh yeah, baby

Now if I appear to be carefree
It's only to camouflage my sadness
In order to shield my pride I try
To cover this hurt with a show of gladness

But don't let my show convince you
That I've been happy since you  <--definitely about a breakup
Decided to go
(Decided to go)
Oh, I need you so
(I need you so)
I'm hurt…

Maybe if I write about this song it will get the fuck out of my head. I've been waking up everyday with the lines haunting me and I've had it. I figure it must mean something. It usually does when I'm stuck like this. The only thing I can think of is that I'm battling the sads lately and I don't like to show it. I feel like I'm not worthy of them and try to ignore they're there. I guess I can't deny it anymore. 

Liars

My anxiety is such a liar. You're probably tired of reading about my anxiety adventures. Not as much as I am of experiencing them.

Last night I went online to check the symptoms of a heart attack. Again. Because my anxiety is a liar. It makes my chest tight and my heart beat quickly and then it sends my thoughts into a tailspin of 'oh god, what's wrong, am I going to die?' and the tightness gets tighter and I feel like everything is falling apart inside.

Once I've accepted I'm probably not going to die of a heart attack, I begin to wonder what else it might be because it couldn't possibly be anxiety. I'm not that bad, right? Gallbladder?

I looked up symptoms of an angry gallbladder and sure enough, I have a few. New anxiety. What if something is wrong? So I make a doctor appointment. New anxiety. The doctor's office is not a place I feel comfortable. I hate the smell. It smells like the hospital my mother died in. And they weigh me and I get the sense my doctor feels I'm a bit of a hypochondriac. Every test I've taken has come back positively and there is nothing seemingly wrong. But my anxiety is a liar and it makes me believe differently.

When depression gets into the mix, that's when it gets really fun. I feel sad on top of the anxiety and I feel like nothing I do matters. I tend to do a lot of nothing during these times. I can't even tell if it's better to have them alternate or just in one giant muck of bullshit that eventually fades until it's bearable. The depression is a liar too.

So I'm surrounded by liars.