Calming down for a moment.

I'm still feeling a little tender and blue after yesterday's wallowing. Though I'm feeling much better after a glass of wine on the back porch with Xtian.

Mostly, I think I'm exhausted from a weekend where I didn't rest much at all, and an upcoming weekend where it's all fun, but not exactly restful, and you know, sometimes I just feel bummed out. Mostly I'm ok, and I recognize that I have a job that mostly covers our bills, and is something I can do with my eyes shut. And to answer Faith's question, here's the thing, I really like WHAT I do, I just am tired of WHERE I'm doing it. You know?

I'm doing exactly the type of work I went to school for, and I really enjoy it. So, no wasted money there at least. But my current company really isn't into doing anything new and different. I spent the first year I was here re-doing all their stuff. Now that it's done, it's mostly maintenance. It's the same 3 things to do every month, and NOPE they're not interested in trying something different, or going in a different direction, or even keeping up with the times, so I'm just bored. Also, I'm surrounded by the lowest common denominator type people.
I believe the best description is: Picture the shittiest trailer park in the world. Now picture all the folks who've been kicked out of said trailer park. Now imagine all those folks who've been kicked out are brothers and sisters, and they all procreated. Those children would best represent 90% of the people who work here. I know.

So, I am grateful for this job for providing me with the job-title I need and a great reference from my immediate boss, and a portfolio of work that might actually help me get a better job. And now I'm done with them. So, yeah. I know it's going to take time, and the job market sucks and all that. But sometimes, the soul-sucking process of looking for a job is just too much. I'm just feeling downtrodden and like there's not really a ton of motivation to get out of bed in the morning.
(Hello? Family history of depression? Oh, it's me. Coley. Just checking in for a couple weeks.)
Not that there's anything dire going on, just a normal funk. It'll pass. I know it, you know it. Just is hard in the meantime.

~~
So, I had to buy a new breast pump a couple weeks ago, and it came with new bottles. Which is all fine, and they're all non-chemical leaching etc. Except they are covered in cringe-inspiring messages like " Breastfeeding: From mother with love," and " Breastfeeding: Nature's perfect food."
And it's just irritating. Yeah, I get it, it's all natural and hippy dippy and wonderful. THAT'S WHY I'M DOING IT! You're preaching to the converted, and in horrible cliches. Yuck. Can't deal with it. Enough with the goofy slogans, already.

And finally this weekend entails a lovely, if short, visit from my mama, a dinner at Guy Fieri's restaurant for Sarah's birthday (sushi and barbecue? In the same restaurant? I'm in. SO SO SO in.), then the Wedding of Materialism on Sunday (yes, I'm bitchy.) complete with possible drop-ins from Xtian's friends on the way through. All wonderful, and all tiring with a 20+ kid in tow.

Oh, and for my bloggy friends who are wondering why I'm not commenting anymore, it's not personal. Just can't reach comments from any computers at work. Blah.

Seriously Overreacting.

To warn y'all, I think I'm totally PMSing (thanks childbirth and IUD for making sure I have no idea what is going on with my body any given moment) but I'm having a little freak out and I need to share.
I think we all know that I'm trying desperately to get the hell out of my current job and out of Oakland. Weirdly enough, I'm not that found of living in a neighborhood where 4 people get shot each night and that's not a big deal. Last time I was in Chico I was talking to my dad about that, and he kind of jokingly mentioned that his company was looking for an advertising person. I kind of immediately dismissed it, because it was mentioned in a joking manner.

Then I got to thinking and thought, ah hell, it's worth a shot. So, I emailed the HR department under a different name (didn't want any awkwardness with my last name being the same as my dad's nor did I want the family to know about it and get hopes up) and asked about any open advertising/marketing positions. The lady wrote back and very politely told me there weren't any openings but they did have an open sales position.
Thanks but not thanks, I told her. I just can't do sales. I can't. It's not in my make up to do it.

So, the other night my dad called and I mentioned the above emailing that went on and said, "Hey I thought you said there was an open Advertising thing?"( I think this is where the misunderstanding happened. I think my dad thought I was talking about the sales position.) He asked if I was interested, I told him I was and to let me know if anything came available.

Then I kind of warmed to the idea of moving back to Chico, even working at the same place as my dad, and all that sugar-paved fantasy stuff.

Today my dad called to say that they were moving forward on the sales position. And my stomach fell. I thought we'd been talking about advertising, he thought we'd been talking about sales. Shit. There isn't anything in my line open there, and he was clearly disappointed and I'm disappointed and now I'm freaking out because...
I'm never going to get another job, we'll never be able to afford more kids in the bay area, my current job is starting to suck my soul away and no one will ever hire me anywhere and everything sucks!

Do you see how I think I might be a little PMS-y? But I can't help it. All I want to do now is put my head on my desk and cry. Dude. It's been 6 months that I've been seriously looking for a new job. I've yet to receive a single call back. What the hell. I'm so discouraged. I'm so ready to get out of here. My career is going absolutely nowhere, and the longer I stay here, the less employable I'll be. I've done everything I can do here, twice, and I'm feeling so stifled. Anytime I try to get a new project going, or advance anything I'm shut down. I'm bored all day every day, and it's hard to make the little work I have stretch to fit the hours I'm required to occupy my desk. Normally I'd just dick around on the internet, but since the surf-blockers are now not even letting me comment on blogs (Except for the magical Faith's, for some reason?) that's not an option.
And I'm so burned out from being behind a computer screen all day, I have a hard time justifying MORE time when I get home to job search. Especially since I have so little family time as it is, and I MISS my baby. I miss my husband. I'm lucky to see them awake for 2 hours a day, and it sucks.

I know I have it easy, and I'm luckier than most and things can always be worse and all the other cliched "Cheer up" garbage people love to throw at you. But I don't care right this minute.
Right now all I want to do is wallow in my unhappiness. And realize that I still have over 2 hours to fill at work. Damn it.

Wherein I admit to vulnerability.

Apparently, I’m a raw nerve today. When Xtian and I left the house this morning, he was teasing me because I couldn’t seem to find the right words for things (you know, like, “car” and “keys.” Pregnancy brain is no joke, folks). Normal, good-natured teasing that characterizes our relationship. Except then I managed to set off the car alarm and couldn’t get it to turn off (Public apology to all my neighbors who had to hear that at 4:30 this morning!), then when I finally started my car, I forgot it was in gear and stalled the fuck out of it.
Xtian kept being silly and teasing, and I lost it, jammed the car into gear and sped the fuck out of there. Then I started crying. Because I’m crazy.

I went to the gym and beat the hell out of myself for being such a pansy assed bitch. Xtian called me as I was just getting on the road to go to work, and I apologized for being insane, and started crying again. I suck ass. He felt horrible, and had no reason to. So, now I feel horrible because he shouldn’t have to deal with my bullshit.

I think I’m having a hard day, for no reason. It’s Friday. I have a three-day weekend (thanks banking industry for deciding that a European dude who never set foot on this continent and thought he was in India, necessitates a day off work!), and I have permission to take off work early as hell. So, why can I not handle even the slightest of mishaps without bursting into wracking sobs?

I am not this person. I rarely cry, let alone let loose pitiful, hiccupping sobs. And I hate being that girl. But jebus, I just feel so unwieldy and out of control of my own body. I can’t even roll over in bed without strategizing the proper tactical maneuvers. I’m not usually very clumsy but these days I feel like I can’t do anything. I’ve cut my hands on every remotely sharp object I’ve come into contact with for the last week, I’ve slammed doors on my own feet, belly, hands and in one AWESOME occurrence I slammed my own head into the doorframe of my car. This shit feels alien, and I’m not very good at being out of control of my body (hence recreational drug use was never my bag).

Even now, after my Friday morning mocha, I can’t seem to keep it together. Everything is making me teary eyed and choking-breathed. What the fuck is going on here folks? Have I finally turned the last corner into certifiably nuts?

My 300th Entry. Yes, I need to do something more productive with my time.

I am completely unable to deal with anything today. I've been experiencing the hormonal bitchiness, snapping at people who don't deserve it, yelling at others because I hurt myself, etc. But this crying thing? Not used to it at all. An email from my VP asking me to do some work that is really useless, won't make a damned bit of difference, but is time consuming as all fuck, reduced me to racking sobs. Sure, it would always have gotten my hackles up. But a few months ago, I would have bitched about it to my boss, my work husband, or Xtian. And then I would have calmed down and gotten it done.

But today, since my boss and my work husband are both gone, I called Xtian told him what happened and started sobbing. This job is not hard, it's not a bad gig. I mostly enjoy my day. But recently all the petty meanness, tattle-taling, politically motivated character assassination is getting worse. Add onto it I found out SOMEONE is asking around if I will rat out my boss. But here's the thing, he hasn't done anything wrong. His worst offense is not liking a VP. ANd if that's a fire-able offense, I think everyone here would be out of a job. It's just shitty, and has me wondering if this is really a place I want to be. And with all this shit going through my brain lately, one poorly toned email reduced me to a complete wreck. Just awesome.

~~~

I've written a little about this topic previously, but it's weighing on me. So you get to hear about it. Again! I know, you are lucky.
Recently I got back in touch with a girl I knew in Jr. High and High School. We never really had a falling out, as far as I know, but just kind of were doing different things and didn't make much of an effort to stay in touch. She mentioned something in an email that clicked the light on for me.

Let's back up. In Jr. High, I had a few girl friends whom I was really close with. After a while though, they all kind of turned on me. I didn't know it at the time, but later it was revealed to me that this was calculated. At least one girl made the decision to turn the entire group against me. These were the Mormon girls. I was heartbroken, and pretty destroyed. I've always had a hard time making friends, and starting over completely in Jr. High was just torture. So, I started being a serial monogamist. Because boyfriends didn't turn against you. The worst they could do was break up with you, and I was determined never to let one do that. I would break up with them before they could dump me. And because word got around that I was...not easy, but interested in exploring, I never had a shortage of males interested in my affection. And since I've never had great self-esteem/self-worth, this lead me to make some really bad decisions about men, and women for that matter. But I knew where I stood with them.

So rather than depending on female friends, I spent time with a string of guys and my friends were their friends. This basically took me all the way through high school.

Looking back, I can see the direct connection between being betrayed by girls, and turning to dependence on males for my feelings of self-worth. Then in college, I had a close girl friend again. We lived together for three years before she moved out without warning and never spoke to me again. I know I can be a difficult person, but I still don't know what I did. I'd blame myself if I had a clue, but since I don't, I've always felt betrayed again.

It took a few years and meeting some nice women, and reconnecting with women I'd known way back, but hadn't let into my life very much, to start trusting and enjoying women again.

Then in this email, my old friend mentioned how much she hated high school and Jr. High, and how she'd always felt out of place and alienated. Finally it clicked. Everyone felt ill-adjusted and alienated in High School. Those girls turned on me to protect themselves from feeling out of place. Because if someone else is MORE out of place, then you are ok.

I don't really hold anything against those girls, and years ago made my peace with my life choices (which ultimately served me well and brought me to the place I am right now. Which is a good thing). But hearing those feelings from someone I had grouped into "THOSE Girls" reminded me that they were just stupid girls looking to protect themselves.
And I hope that my methods for protecting myself didn't hurt anyone else to the extent I was hurt.

Beating a dead horse

I know we’re all tired of hearing me whine. I’m tired of hearing me whine. But, here I go again.

Recently, I found out that all my siblings are on anti-depressants. That’s three out of four, for those keeping track. At least we can all mostly joke about it. When my brother told me he was on the happy pills, I joked “who would have ever guessed I’d be the least fucked up on of the bunch?” And now I’m wondering if I’m just better at denial. Yeah, mostly I’m fine. 80% of the time, I’m a happy person and can function normally and can see my own irrational thoughts for what they are.

But, then there’s the other 20%. That’s where I am now. And rather than disappearing and avoiding people, writing and all communication, I’m going to try to be honest about what’s going on in my head. If nothing else, I can use this as a guidepost; “at least I don’t feel like I did back in November ’06.”

I made a kind of off-hand comment to Xtian this weekend, and when he responded with horror, it occurred to me that maybe other people don’t feel the same way I do. I have a semi-formal company dinner in a couple of weeks, and I need some “semi-formal” clothing. Clothes shopping has never been a pleasant experience for me, regardless of size. Now, really, in retrospect it wasn’t a good day to shop. After my back injury I took two weeks off from running, and with the funk that’s been around me, I haven’t been taking care of myself food/activity-wise. And apparently two weeks are all I need to expand two dress sizes.

Jen recommended a store that had a handful of cute things in the ballpark of my size. So, I put a smile on, picked out a few things that looked cute. As soon as the zipper hit the top on the first one, I knew it was a mistake to go shopping. Fighting back tears I put the items back on the hanger, and left the store. Xtian tried to be supportive, but there’s nothing he can say. I felt absolutely disgusting, and disgusted with myself. I finally just picked out the largest sized clothing I’ve ever owned and went home. It was later, after having a few drinks and calming down that I was able to verbalize.

“Looking at myself in those clothes, all I want to do is take a knife and carve sections of my body out.” I thought that was a pretty standard thing to think. Hell, not a day goes by I don’t fantasize about that. Xtian’s obvious alarm made me think, perhaps that’s not a normal feeling. The only weight I’ve ever successfully lost and kept off for longer than a month was when I was 14 and just stopped eating. I lived on dry Cheerios and soda for 5 years.

As I stood in front of the mirror, I thought to myself “I’m so ashamed at having lost all that willpower. I used to be able to go for days on end without food. And look where eating daily has gotten me.” It was only the next day that I realized how fucked up that thinking is. Envying the girl I was, who didn’t think of anything except everything I wasn’t eating.

But, really, my doctor tested me last year for thyroid issues etc. So, the only thing wrong with me, is ME.

Sure, perhaps all this body hatred is a reaction to feeling out of control of my life and my body. My MIL is a horrible human who does everything in her power to hurt others to “make them pay,” I’m having a hard time getting pregnant, my cycle is so screwed up I don’t even know what to do with it. All things I really have no control over, and I find myself starting my old behaviors again. Anyone seeing a pattern?

And yet, I find that when people ask how I am, I have to play the “I’m great! Everything is chipper!” game when all I want to do is collapse in a heap and sob. Even with my closest friends I feel like I don’t have any right to tell them “I’m having a hard time lately. But thank you for asking.” I try to talk to Xtian about all this, but he has no idea what to do or say, and it just upsets him. So, instead the Internet gets all my mental garbage. Enjoy.

In continuing with our latest theme...

So, let’s all take a moment and, as a favor to me, hope that my current bout of total self-loathing is just some NASTY PMS. Because, clearly, my body has not decided on any cycle at all. And, out of the blue, decided to screw with me again with cramps so bad they WOKE ME OUT OF A DEAD SLUMBER. So, again for those playing the home game, try number two was a rousing failure. Really not helping with the whole “feeling completely useless as a human” thing I’ve got going on lately.

I suppose my sad-bastard music isn’t really helping me get out of funk. But, geez, I can’t stop listening to Counting Crows’ Colorblind. Saddest sounding song I’ve found this week. But, perhaps some Aimee Mann will beat that out for top spot.

Xtian is starting to speak to his mother again. But, this time, HE actually gets a chance to SPEAK. Which has never really happened before. Mostly they're still fighting, but at least both people are yelling, rather than having the yeller (her) and the yellee (he). I’m still not having any relationship or contact with her, and frankly, I think it’s for the best. I know I get roped into her crazy games too easily, so I’m just taking myself out of that. At least I can save my own sanity if I can’t get her to recognize her own insanity. And next year Brother turns 18, and can get the hell away from her if he chooses, so I can stop worrying about him.

~~
In other news, for the first time in my life, I’m trying to let people know when something they’ve done/said hurts my feelings. It only took 24 years, but I’ve realized that I’m allowed to have feelings. Yes, I also have a sense of humor about myself (see: every post on this damn blog), but that doesn’t mean people don’t hurt me. I usually just skip over it, or pretend it didn’t bother me, when really it does. Then I sit and stew about it and harbor negative feelings for people. Sounds healthy, eh? Yeah, I didn’t think so.
I still mostly suck at it, and tell people “oh, no it’s fine. You’re right, I do suck!” Turns out I’m not very good at admitting to my own vulnerability.

We want the funk...

I’m feeling pretty shitty about myself these days. I don’t even really like my own personality these days. I feel like mostly people put up with me, despite myself.

I’ve been trying to find some semi-formal wear for my company’s awards dinner/dance all night party. Here’s the problem, I hate how everything looks on me, because I hate how I look. Of course that dress won’t make me look like a curvy babe. I’m NOT a curvy babe, I’m an overweight, carries-all-her-chub-on-her-gut, rather mannish looking hag. At least that’s how I’m feeling these days.
And no, please don’t anyone tell me differently. I don’t care what other people will say to be nice; I’m feeling like everything about me sucks.



Sorry for the bummer. I’m sure I’ll be back with some vagina/minor annoyance stories soon. Just not today.


Oh wait, I do have one random, TMI story for you. Guess what I was doing this weekend while two of my siblings were at my house. Guess!

--
Ovulating.

Yeah, nothing like trying to conceive while my sister is in the next room. Fuck. I’m never getting knocked up. (See again, I’m clearly useless in every way. )

Untitled (oops, I guess that's an oxymoron)

Well, I guess we all knew it would happen. I just hoped it wouldn’t. Xtian’s brother will NOT be joining us for Christmas this year. And not only that, the way we found out was via voicemail from the MIL of INSANITY. And I quote, “Brother will not be flying ANYWHERE. He HAS a mother.” Yeah, can anyone say ouch? And now I just want to kill her for lashing out like this. Her only aim is to hurt her son, and that is unacceptable. But at least Brother will be 18 in 11 months. And then he will at least have some options. Like getting the hell away from a mother who is clearly mentally ill.

It just hurts seeing Xtian hurt.

~~

I’m feeling a funk descending again. I’m feeling sad and hopeless for no freakin’ reason. I have no desire to do anything but lay on the couch and stare at the blank TV screen.
I did get a reprieve from my own self-indulgent malaise last night, though. Jen came over and we made some fabulous food, and chatted on the couch. It was nice to shake off the funk for a bit and just BE.

I’m glad I have the weekend to hibernate from social obligations. I foresee a little shopping, perhaps catching a movie, and otherwise just snuggling on the couch without words. Sounds about right.

Ow.

Alright, there’s no more denying it. My eyes have gotten even worse. Reading a book makes my head hurt. Looking at a computer screen makes my head hurt. I can no longer see the words of the On-Screen guide for my TV. And squinting while reading glasses, really? From an arm length away, I can’t even see that there are letters on my keyboard. This can’t be good, right? But at least that’s a reason for the never-ending headaches. And why they’ve gotten so much more pronounced toward the end of the week, and toward the end of the day. But, really, my job is to stare at a computer screen for at least 8 hours a day. And I know, I take “eye-breaks” every 20 minutes or so, just stare at the blank wall, and it doesn’t help.

When will this end? How long before my eyes just stop working? When the optometrist expresses disbelief at the strength of your prescription, that’s weird. I already have the most compacted lenses, and their still thicker than my uber-thick frames.

This sucks. No one else in my family has these eye-problems. Sure, both my sisters have “reading” glasses, but they can legally drive without corrective lenses.

Deal lord, I hope my children don’t get my genetics on this one. Or my skin, or my body type, or my bitchiness, or my hirsuteness. Damn, do I really want to pass anything genetically on to my children? Hmm. Good question.

Moping is fun. You try it.

It’s official. I’m so obnoxiously sensitive to weather changes; I kind of want to roll my eyes at myself. In the same way I roll my eyes at people who are annoyingly sensitive to temperature (“It’s so hot, I’m feeling ill” at 85 degrees, and “brr, I’m freezing cold!” at 68 degrees).
I know I tend to feel down during the winter, hell, we all do. But today is just too ridiculous. Overnight the clouds blew in, and I feel so unexplainably melancholy. And, of course all the music I hear today is the sad sap that just forces you to WALLOW in your funk. Nothing has changed from yesterday to today, except the weather. Clouds and rain.

Is this why I was always so unhappy in Milwaukee? Am I just so moronically susceptible to weather? (Milwaukee is only comfortable about 2 weeks a year. The other 50 weeks are either snowing/blistering cold or hot, humid and cloudy. Just the worst weather ever). Or was my unhappiness due to my life sucking in Milwaukee, poor choices in friends, lovers and jobs? Oh fuck it, I’m done.

Yeah, my apologies for the loopy rantings yesterday. Clearly, prescription meds and writing should never be combined. And yet, here I am, doing it again. Or maybe it’s the fact that people with injured backs are not able to *ahem* partake in activities they generally enjoy. If you catch my drift? Wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more.

Whatever. Let’s move along.

I’m in a creativity slump at work. It has a lot to do with having just finished a project in which my creative input was null, and starting a new project with even less room for any creativity. It’s hard to muster any enthusiasm for shit like this.


Oh, and all the talk on left radio this morning (as reported by my husband, who adorably calls to relay what people on the radio are saying. Cute, but odd, right?) is all about the draft. And the possibility of reinstating it. So, if I and every male related to me is suddenly nowhere to be found, you’ll know what’s up.
I tend to leave politics out of this thing, but allow me to say this: there is no way to “win in Iraq.” The reason for this, is the same as it was for Vietnam: We have no demonstrable goal. So, if we have no demonstrable goal, how will we know when we’re done? It’s impossible to win without a clear definition of what “winning” means. In WWII, it was simple, defeat the Axis powers, and stop the routine genocide. (Overly simplified, yes, but fuck it.) We’re not fighting a real enemy in Iraq. “Terrorists?” That’s the best we can come up with? Ok, who are they, where are they, what’s the difference between a terrorist and an Iraq citizen who is tired of living in a war zone? Fuck it.
I’m about done on that stretch.

Ok, I’m going to go mope around until I can ostensibly go home.