And I don't feel much like celebrating.
The panic I felt when we had traveled a whole exit away from where I had called home for the past three years still grips my heart every time I think back to that moment. My no longer long distance (as of that very moment) boyfriend was driving the U-Haul and Max (my cat) was drugged up, laying in my lap. I was numb.
The decision to move wasn't an easy one rather a logical one.
My now ex and I both were sick of riding the Bolt Bus every weekend to see one another. Sick of the Skype sessions and talking to each other's frozen faces on our laptops. Sick of feeling pangs of jealously when we saw other couples taking their same zip code addresses for granted.
Plus, I didn't have a job or much hope to find one left. I had recently pulled myself out of outpatient (eating disorder) and made the choice to leave zulily (a negative, suffocating, underpaid environment that sucked the life and creativity out of its creatives) in order to keep my recovery and my sanity. I was flat broke, exhausted by job hunting, and insanely lonely as will happen with unemployment.
I needed a change and this seemed to make sense: move to Vancouver where my boyfriend and soon to be new job was. I sincerely heard the warnings (never move for a guy), concerns (but you love Seattle so much), and encouragement (you don't know until you try) and I made my choice. Plus Seattle isn't that far right?
Fuck that. Seattle is far. Not necessarily in miles or hours of drive time--but when you are no longer central to the things that make you feel like you, make you happy, make you at home--you're far. Far from yourself.
And two years later--which is what they told me it would take to be comfortable here--I still feel far. Even farther than I was before. I no longer have a home in Seattle and I don't have a home here. Life, construction and growth has changed what I used to know and love.
And Vancouver? Portland? I still don't know Burnside from uhhh another city street. My boyfriend and I are no longer together and with that came a painful distance from people I felt like were my family. It's like I moved here all over again.
The past 6 months I've fucked up, scrambled, drank, danced, partied, played, and held on tight to anything that felt like home and belonging no matter how detrimental, unhealthy, fucked up the situation / person / activity was.
Sinking lower into depression, anxiety increasing, my eating disorder and substance abuse oh and you can't forget the inevitable self-hate--I once again feel homeless.
I am unhappy here. I am barely keeping my head above water at my job. My rent kills me. And I have lost my best friend and the people I considered my family here. And yet, somehow the motivation for change isn't there. I'm disgustingly comfortable in this lifeless, depressive, anxious routine I cling to to get by on everyday. I feel useless, unmotivated, unwanted and am getting more and more comfortable with being in this incredibly uncomfortable place.
Making excuses, justifications, and just the slightest alteration so I can continue to wallow in my self-pity. I have no goals, I have no ambition, no dreams I'm just merely existing. I worked so hard to try to make it work here. To do the right thing. And I just feel more fucked up than I was before I left, but there's no going back so I guess I just keep trying to more forward.
Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 18, 2016
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
I Just Want To Belong Somewhere.
I just want to belong somewhere. I want to matter to someone.
After 30 minutes of writing about my breakup, my move, and
recovery that is what broke me. I ugly cried for what felt like forever.
I feel so insanely alone. The more I go to Seattle the more
I feel I don’t belong. I ignore the sinking feeling I get when I feel
disconnect but it’s there. My friends are changing, the city is changing, I am
changing. And then I come here, and I don’t belong either. I lost my best
friend, and with him all of his friends, our places and activities are haunted
with what was, and I’m left with the ghost of what I thought I had. I don’t
belong anywhere. I have never felt like I’ve belonged, and this feeling is the
most painful for me.
I didn’t fit in in school, I was the friend that was picked on, I was the problem (am) the problem child in the family, work, sports teams whatever, I have never had a place. And now that hole that I’ve been trying to fill all of my life is gaping. I cannot hide, or fill it, or run from it anymore. Every time I try to, every time I go back and try to force things it doesn’t feel right and it doesn’t work. The pain of trying to force something to fill it and failing is less than accepting what I have grown up believing is true: There is something wrong with me and I will never fit in.
I didn’t fit in in school, I was the friend that was picked on, I was the problem (am) the problem child in the family, work, sports teams whatever, I have never had a place. And now that hole that I’ve been trying to fill all of my life is gaping. I cannot hide, or fill it, or run from it anymore. Every time I try to, every time I go back and try to force things it doesn’t feel right and it doesn’t work. The pain of trying to force something to fill it and failing is less than accepting what I have grown up believing is true: There is something wrong with me and I will never fit in.
My friend told me today something I really didn’t want to
hear but I know is true: There’s a difference between what you want and what
you need. And all I can really do right now is ask for the strength to accept
what I need.
When I allow myself to feel, to give into the darkness and
the emptiness that lives inside me, I completely lose myself. I open my mouth
as if to scream and nothing comes out. I go blind. I can’t breathe. The
feelings of my past come flooding into my body but my mind is black. I curl into a ball and gasp for air. It hurts.
And I grieve for myself. And I beg to no one and yet
everyone that it can’t be true. It can’t be true that I’m so terrible, that
there is something so wrong with me, that I don’t have a home. I don’t belong. But
this time around it’s really hard to pick myself up and try again. That is why
I am having the hardest time of letting go.
I want nothing more than to belong. I want someone to call
me and ask me to hang out. I want a group that isn’t complete without me. I want
to be thought of. I want a person to sit in sweats all day with me and have
unawkward silence with. And someone that I can tell stupid shit to and they
actually care. I want to be someone’s someone.
I just want to belong somewhere. I want to matter to someone.
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
I Am Homesick
As soon as I type those words my throat tightens, my nose stings and my eyes water.
I'm finally letting it out after pushing it down all day.
I woke up at 5 AM having dreams of the city in my mind. It was so real I thought I was in my old apartment. And when I realized I wasn't I woke up with fear. I closed my eyes again picturing 1st coming from Pioneer Square heading to Pike Place. I see the wet street, the buildings built with brick that I adore, I know where the streets turn into hills, I know how to best get to the water, I know that I do not know what adventure I'd find at Pike Place. I feel joy in my heart. I feel excited. I feel at home.
I then take myself to my old neighborhood. Passing those familiar strangers. The gays, the drag queens, the crazies and my friends. I smell the coffee shop next to the record store. I see Trendy Wendys and her glittering bras. I smell Dicks. The streets are buzzing and everyone has to be somewhere, do something, be someone and yet I feel comfortable with them.
I go next to my bed. I see the wide window that on looks a gorgeous tree filled with blooms. I feel my legs stretch out under the covers of my bed and my canopy whimsically, playfully hanging over me--my princess dreams come true 20 years later. My cat is at the window and the rain falls lightly.
The alarm goes off--not a real one but one just as violent and unwelcome as mine in the morning--I realize I am not home. That home will never be home again. I cannot go back there and live and have and do what I did before I left. And my God I miss it.
I have hesitated to write so openly for fear of hurting others feelings or because you will think I am not trying, that I am selfish, that I am ungrateful but what about what I feel? Not all days are as bad as this but there was a hole in my heart today, there was an emptiness that couldn't be filled.
I think of my home now, there are no busy streets. There are no familiar strangers. There are no drag queens. It is cold. It is bare. It is isolating.
I thought this move through. I weighed the pros and cons but I could not know what this move would do, or evoke or fucking be like until I did it.
I have not known loneliness like this. I have a wonderful, supportive, weirdly wonderful group of friends that feel so far away. I see their lives go on without me and yes it is 'just a bus ride away' but it feels like a universe away. I feel like I will be forgotten, I feel like my life is going away, diminsihing slowly with each passing day and I have nothing to replace it with.
And yes it is my job to build a new one here but it is hard. And I've done hard things in my life and I am not one to back down but I need an outlet.
I feel so much more alone because well physically I am. I do not have girls nights here. I do not have random coffee dates. I do not have familiar strangers. I don't know the grocery stores or how my gym is set up and I can't really tell you where I live. It is unfamiliar and it is uncomfortable.
I realized when asked "how are you?" that I jump at the opportunity to unleash all that I feel I must keep in / have to keep in as there is no one here to talk to. I see myself talking to friends back home holding back the pain I have some days and following it up with "but I'll be ok." "it just takes time." Completely under minding my feelings that are fucking valid. But I am too scared to just unleash and complain and cry and say it sucks and I don't want it to be this sucky anymore. I am afraid it will push those who are so far way from me further.
And this isnt' to say that it's all bad here because I've met some really great people that seem to like me too. I have a wonderful boyfriend and we're navigating how to live together. And I have a sick ass job.
See? I feel as though it's not ok to unleash and say what I feel for fear of being pushed away even by you 'anonymous' readers.
I guess what I'm getting at is that well yes I'm homesick. I miss my friends. I miss my city. But I'm also getting at the fact that it's fucked that in our world / in my world I don't feel like I can be this open and honest about anything for fear of being judged by others or by myself. Oh and that moving is hard. It's fucking hard and props to all of you who have done it. It's a goal of mine to continue to journal / blog so you'll see more of this and these and things. If you all have shit going on write me or journal. Just get a pen and paper and try it.
I'm finally letting it out after pushing it down all day.
I woke up at 5 AM having dreams of the city in my mind. It was so real I thought I was in my old apartment. And when I realized I wasn't I woke up with fear. I closed my eyes again picturing 1st coming from Pioneer Square heading to Pike Place. I see the wet street, the buildings built with brick that I adore, I know where the streets turn into hills, I know how to best get to the water, I know that I do not know what adventure I'd find at Pike Place. I feel joy in my heart. I feel excited. I feel at home.
I then take myself to my old neighborhood. Passing those familiar strangers. The gays, the drag queens, the crazies and my friends. I smell the coffee shop next to the record store. I see Trendy Wendys and her glittering bras. I smell Dicks. The streets are buzzing and everyone has to be somewhere, do something, be someone and yet I feel comfortable with them.
I go next to my bed. I see the wide window that on looks a gorgeous tree filled with blooms. I feel my legs stretch out under the covers of my bed and my canopy whimsically, playfully hanging over me--my princess dreams come true 20 years later. My cat is at the window and the rain falls lightly.
The alarm goes off--not a real one but one just as violent and unwelcome as mine in the morning--I realize I am not home. That home will never be home again. I cannot go back there and live and have and do what I did before I left. And my God I miss it.
I have hesitated to write so openly for fear of hurting others feelings or because you will think I am not trying, that I am selfish, that I am ungrateful but what about what I feel? Not all days are as bad as this but there was a hole in my heart today, there was an emptiness that couldn't be filled.
I think of my home now, there are no busy streets. There are no familiar strangers. There are no drag queens. It is cold. It is bare. It is isolating.
I thought this move through. I weighed the pros and cons but I could not know what this move would do, or evoke or fucking be like until I did it.
I have not known loneliness like this. I have a wonderful, supportive, weirdly wonderful group of friends that feel so far away. I see their lives go on without me and yes it is 'just a bus ride away' but it feels like a universe away. I feel like I will be forgotten, I feel like my life is going away, diminsihing slowly with each passing day and I have nothing to replace it with.
And yes it is my job to build a new one here but it is hard. And I've done hard things in my life and I am not one to back down but I need an outlet.
I feel so much more alone because well physically I am. I do not have girls nights here. I do not have random coffee dates. I do not have familiar strangers. I don't know the grocery stores or how my gym is set up and I can't really tell you where I live. It is unfamiliar and it is uncomfortable.
I realized when asked "how are you?" that I jump at the opportunity to unleash all that I feel I must keep in / have to keep in as there is no one here to talk to. I see myself talking to friends back home holding back the pain I have some days and following it up with "but I'll be ok." "it just takes time." Completely under minding my feelings that are fucking valid. But I am too scared to just unleash and complain and cry and say it sucks and I don't want it to be this sucky anymore. I am afraid it will push those who are so far way from me further.
And this isnt' to say that it's all bad here because I've met some really great people that seem to like me too. I have a wonderful boyfriend and we're navigating how to live together. And I have a sick ass job.
See? I feel as though it's not ok to unleash and say what I feel for fear of being pushed away even by you 'anonymous' readers.
I guess what I'm getting at is that well yes I'm homesick. I miss my friends. I miss my city. But I'm also getting at the fact that it's fucked that in our world / in my world I don't feel like I can be this open and honest about anything for fear of being judged by others or by myself. Oh and that moving is hard. It's fucking hard and props to all of you who have done it. It's a goal of mine to continue to journal / blog so you'll see more of this and these and things. If you all have shit going on write me or journal. Just get a pen and paper and try it.
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
Homesick.
Wrote while listening to : Jon Bellion, Audra Mae Luxury
describe the indescribable
make sense of this confusion
dry wet eyes
reach out to no one
empty room, it's just me
oh the irony
everyone gone to familiarity
I'm what's left behind
oh, oh what I left behind
distant
my feelings, disconnected
oil and water
these roads have already become repetitive
but I miss the routine
what are you doing?
life goes on without me
don't break
singular
now I've known pain
and I've felt out of place
never knew loneliness like this
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
Be Selfish.
My body is pulled back magnetically charged at my heart--or was it my head? Either way I'm back at the car the wind whipping my face--it's not a dramatic scene though tears don't stream my face--I'm too angry--at least I think it's anger. And I stand up for myself.
Our conversation included miscommunicated dirty texts, denied sex, fighting, telling the other one they were the worse one, me screaming at the top of my lungs into the wind.
Cohabitation ladies and gentlemen.
I had no fucking idea.
Suburbia. Vancouver, Washington.
I had no fucking idea.
No friends.
I had no fucking idea.
Moving from Seattle to Vancouver Washington to live with my longtime boyfriend with no friends and starting a new job and no car....I didn't know what I was getting myself into. I had no clue how hard this was going to be. Add onto that a new job--which is amazing mind you--but still new--and I'm one ball...avalanche? of anger. Anger for me signifies power. It makes me feel like I have some kind of control.
FYI I have no control.
I'm just a big bitch.
And that anger is getting in the way of a lot of love and enjoying the choices I've made. Now most of you--well it seems like it--are married some with kids now. And you've probably figured all this out but I'm late to the game and just starting down this road and it's hard.
How can someone I care about so much piss me off so fucking much?
I've thought about this a lot lately and most of it so far comes down to selfishness.
I think he's selfish (not always mind you but let me get my point across) and I think it's about time I am too.
And selfish gets a bad rep but really it has its place.
I want everything to be perfect here in my little home and my relationship because I can't control what goes on in my head or the fact that I have no friends here or that I'm incredibly lonely or that I don't know what road I live off of or where the milk is at the grocery store. I'm so out of my element and so uncomfortable I need something to work, to feel fine, to feel happy to feel perfect. So I put all this pressure on me and my boyfriend's relationship so I can feel OK. And because my expectations are not met. And he does not have mind reading capabilities. I do not feel OK.
So instead of me molding and folding and bending into this person I'm not to try to make this work and then feeling well small,..it's time for me to do what I want to do.
It's time for me to put on HGTV. It's time for me to serve myself first. And it's time to be selfish.
I've mostly created this storm on my own, and it only took me three weeks to untangle it, but I'm happy I did.
The other factor is the loneliness. I am too distracted from work to the gym to obsessing over my ED (ya it's kind of back--actively working on that) to realize how insanely lonely I am. How much I miss my friends. How much I miss being able to walk Broadway and see familiar faces however unfriendly they were. How much I miss the water. How much I miss happy hour with my best friends. And knowing where the weights are in the gym. I miss familiarity. I miss my home.
Our conversation included miscommunicated dirty texts, denied sex, fighting, telling the other one they were the worse one, me screaming at the top of my lungs into the wind.
Cohabitation ladies and gentlemen.
I had no fucking idea.
Suburbia. Vancouver, Washington.
I had no fucking idea.
No friends.
I had no fucking idea.
Moving from Seattle to Vancouver Washington to live with my longtime boyfriend with no friends and starting a new job and no car....I didn't know what I was getting myself into. I had no clue how hard this was going to be. Add onto that a new job--which is amazing mind you--but still new--and I'm one ball...avalanche? of anger. Anger for me signifies power. It makes me feel like I have some kind of control.
FYI I have no control.
I'm just a big bitch.
And that anger is getting in the way of a lot of love and enjoying the choices I've made. Now most of you--well it seems like it--are married some with kids now. And you've probably figured all this out but I'm late to the game and just starting down this road and it's hard.
How can someone I care about so much piss me off so fucking much?
I've thought about this a lot lately and most of it so far comes down to selfishness.
I think he's selfish (not always mind you but let me get my point across) and I think it's about time I am too.
And selfish gets a bad rep but really it has its place.
I want everything to be perfect here in my little home and my relationship because I can't control what goes on in my head or the fact that I have no friends here or that I'm incredibly lonely or that I don't know what road I live off of or where the milk is at the grocery store. I'm so out of my element and so uncomfortable I need something to work, to feel fine, to feel happy to feel perfect. So I put all this pressure on me and my boyfriend's relationship so I can feel OK. And because my expectations are not met. And he does not have mind reading capabilities. I do not feel OK.
So instead of me molding and folding and bending into this person I'm not to try to make this work and then feeling well small,..it's time for me to do what I want to do.
It's time for me to put on HGTV. It's time for me to serve myself first. And it's time to be selfish.
I've mostly created this storm on my own, and it only took me three weeks to untangle it, but I'm happy I did.
The other factor is the loneliness. I am too distracted from work to the gym to obsessing over my ED (ya it's kind of back--actively working on that) to realize how insanely lonely I am. How much I miss my friends. How much I miss being able to walk Broadway and see familiar faces however unfriendly they were. How much I miss the water. How much I miss happy hour with my best friends. And knowing where the weights are in the gym. I miss familiarity. I miss my home.
Monday, October 20, 2014
The Big Move Update
Hi kids.
I'm writing this on my lunch.
Every coworker can see that I'm blogging as my desk is in the middle of the office and my monitors are for everyone to see aka no facebooking for at least 3 months until I'm established.
If you're reading this this means you care about my life so I'm going to update you on my move to Vancouver.
Saturday was the longest day ever--because I was up until 6:30 AM Sunday.
I had awesome helpers all morning in Seattle and we got out by 2ish.
Got into Vancouver and walked up to the cutest little apartment / Harry Potter complex and walked into my new apartment.
My jaw dropped. My heart sank.
And my voice raised.
I was pissed.
The place was FILTHY.
Dust on walls, food in the fridge, the toilet was dirty and my mom was cleaning it as we moved in, the lock was taped down bc the door was broken, the blinds fell off the wall when I went to close them and the windows aren't all sealed.
So long story short we moved everything in with the help of boyfriend's friends and my amazing parents.
The place is so bad that we are deciding to find a new place to live.
We're living out of boxes right now and I'm trying to balance starting a new job with the added stress of apartment hunting and I'm getting better.
Work has been amazing. It's so professional here. And nice. Everyone welcoming.
And living with my boyfriend has been good too. It feels right...one of the only things that does in this crazy moving mess.
So there ya go.
Job good--well four hours into it!
Apartment--sucks--working on it.
Friends--everyone is welcoming.
Kitty--adjusting. She slept on my head last night.
Overall I'm learning so much about myself and my relationship with my boyfriend. I'm learning that I shouldn't invalidate my feelings and keep pushing myself to be happy and positive when I don't feel it. I'm not saying dwell but I'm saying just be ok with not being ok. I've also learned that when I'm not ok I need to learn how to take care of myself and how to treat others. AKA not drink too much or snap at my boyfriend when he just asks a question. I'm also learning that I need to work on zooming out...that shitty situations aren't final and there are resolutions. Ah life.
I'm writing this on my lunch.
Every coworker can see that I'm blogging as my desk is in the middle of the office and my monitors are for everyone to see aka no facebooking for at least 3 months until I'm established.
If you're reading this this means you care about my life so I'm going to update you on my move to Vancouver.
Saturday was the longest day ever--because I was up until 6:30 AM Sunday.
I had awesome helpers all morning in Seattle and we got out by 2ish.
Got into Vancouver and walked up to the cutest little apartment / Harry Potter complex and walked into my new apartment.
My jaw dropped. My heart sank.
And my voice raised.
I was pissed.
The place was FILTHY.
Dust on walls, food in the fridge, the toilet was dirty and my mom was cleaning it as we moved in, the lock was taped down bc the door was broken, the blinds fell off the wall when I went to close them and the windows aren't all sealed.
So long story short we moved everything in with the help of boyfriend's friends and my amazing parents.
The place is so bad that we are deciding to find a new place to live.
We're living out of boxes right now and I'm trying to balance starting a new job with the added stress of apartment hunting and I'm getting better.
Work has been amazing. It's so professional here. And nice. Everyone welcoming.
And living with my boyfriend has been good too. It feels right...one of the only things that does in this crazy moving mess.
So there ya go.
Job good--well four hours into it!
Apartment--sucks--working on it.
Friends--everyone is welcoming.
Kitty--adjusting. She slept on my head last night.
Overall I'm learning so much about myself and my relationship with my boyfriend. I'm learning that I shouldn't invalidate my feelings and keep pushing myself to be happy and positive when I don't feel it. I'm not saying dwell but I'm saying just be ok with not being ok. I've also learned that when I'm not ok I need to learn how to take care of myself and how to treat others. AKA not drink too much or snap at my boyfriend when he just asks a question. I'm also learning that I need to work on zooming out...that shitty situations aren't final and there are resolutions. Ah life.
Thursday, October 2, 2014
Camel Driver.
I feel really unstable.
Not like I'm going to hurt myself or anything like that.
Just like I'm in a glass case of emotion on a roller coaster unstable.
I keep trying to change my perspective on my stresses and life and then I immediately revert back to my old self--and it's exhausting. On top of my life already being the most stressful it's been in a -- ever.
So here's the dealio.
I have a boyfriend who I love very much, so much in fact I'm moving to Portland from Seattle to be with him. Among other reasons of course. So what that means is that:
I had to take a personality test today for this job and it dubbed me the Peacekeeper.
"Neat and orderly, others see Kris as practical. She thrives on consistency and dependability..." Two things I do NOT have in my life right now.
"Reaction to pressure: stubborn, fearful..." Thanks Captain Obvious.
I should "Be more open to change and be more flexible."
So then today on the worst days of days I get slapped in the face with my flaws.
AND I'VE JUST FUCKING HAD IT.
And every time I type something this negative out or try to talk to someone about it I just feel so guilty because I feel like maybe it's not that bad. And I know other people have it worse than me. And I should just shut up. So then I distract myself and bottle it and it gets worse. Oh ya that stupid test told me I need to be more confrontational and not bottle my feelings.
Well I'm unbottling it bitches.
I AM HAVING A HARD TIME. I don't know what the balance is between freaking out and getting to cry and wanting someone to tell me how hard my life is and it's ok that I'm losing it...and also not wanting to live this way.
So I keep reading stupid pins about stress relief and I sit in funny yoga positions all while thinking how unproductive this is and how I should be writing tweets about testicular cancer (volunteer thing).
I wish I had my therapist back to sort this all out with. So she could tell me what's rational, what's selfish, how to move forward.
I know things will work out--but that doesn't make me feel any more safe or in control. I mean they better fucking work out. I just hate not knowing if my application will go through on the place, if I'll get this job, if I'm going to have to pay unemployment back, where I'll be living in 16 days. There is so much unknown and I feel so unsafe and ungrounded.
But thinking about this mess doesn't make it go away. But wallowing in it does make the evil inside me feel better...thinking about all the shit and how "bad" my life is and how I want people to feel sorry for me and how I want everything to just get easy.
The only way it's going to fucking do that is if I change how I think about it.
I mean I've had a roof over my head for this long and haven't gone hungry (except on my own accord -- terrible anorexia joke) so this has to work out.
If I get the place I get it -- if not SOMETHING ELSE will come along that I'm meant to have.
If I get the job I get it -- if not SOMETHING ELSE will come along that I'm meant to do.
If unemployment fucks me I know I didn't do anything intentionally and they have always been really great up until now--just a lot of work for not working--I'll be ok either way.
I guess as I type all of this out I realize that I will be ok. That these questions all have answers, and when I know those answers I can act accordingly.
But until then I really need to change my perspective on what's happening and stay in the present.
"Because I don't live in either my past or my future. I'm interested only in the present. If you can concentrate always on the present, you'll be a happy man....Life will be a party for you, a grand festival, because life is the moment we're living right now," says the camel driver to the boy in The Alchemist
Not like I'm going to hurt myself or anything like that.
Just like I'm in a glass case of emotion on a roller coaster unstable.
I keep trying to change my perspective on my stresses and life and then I immediately revert back to my old self--and it's exhausting. On top of my life already being the most stressful it's been in a -- ever.
So here's the dealio.
I have a boyfriend who I love very much, so much in fact I'm moving to Portland from Seattle to be with him. Among other reasons of course. So what that means is that:
- I told my apartment building manager I'm moving out so by November so I have to getdafuckout by November or else I'm homeless.
- We've got an application on a place but we have no idea if we've got it so there's still that what if of do we keep looking? Are we ok? When do I move? When do I start packing? Can I make plans with people?
- I have an interview at a place next week and who knows if I'll get that
- If I do that means I have to move sooner
- so if I don't get said place basically I can't take the job
- I could not get the job and still get the place and move in slowly which would be nice.
- Or we could not get the place or the job and then I'm fucked.
- Then I got two letters from unemployment today saying that I committed fraud because they overpaid me by A FUCKING DOLLAR and that I'm doing self-employment (promos...which I was doing in case I DIDN'T get granted unemployment) so I may be ineligible for unemployment and I might have to pay all the money back--with what fucking money? Oh what you gave me? Because that went to rent seeing how I have no job.
I mean one of these is stressful on it's own, apartment hunting, job hunting, moving in with a significant other, fuck just trying to get a hold of unemployment is fucking stressful...but all at once? And the emotional part of leaving all my friends and family behind just when their lives seem to be coming together. I'm still writing for a music blog and then volunteering for a scholarship foundation on top of all this.
OH YEAH and I still have that eating disorder thing that just rears it's ugly fucking head when I'm stressed. So ya I'm battling that too.
I thought this was going to be fun, an adventure and I thought I could handle it but I'm having a really hard time. I had no idea what this was going to be like because well I've never done it.
OH YEAH and I still have that eating disorder thing that just rears it's ugly fucking head when I'm stressed. So ya I'm battling that too.
I thought this was going to be fun, an adventure and I thought I could handle it but I'm having a really hard time. I had no idea what this was going to be like because well I've never done it.
I had to take a personality test today for this job and it dubbed me the Peacekeeper.
"Neat and orderly, others see Kris as practical. She thrives on consistency and dependability..." Two things I do NOT have in my life right now.
"Reaction to pressure: stubborn, fearful..." Thanks Captain Obvious.
I should "Be more open to change and be more flexible."
So then today on the worst days of days I get slapped in the face with my flaws.
AND I'VE JUST FUCKING HAD IT.
And every time I type something this negative out or try to talk to someone about it I just feel so guilty because I feel like maybe it's not that bad. And I know other people have it worse than me. And I should just shut up. So then I distract myself and bottle it and it gets worse. Oh ya that stupid test told me I need to be more confrontational and not bottle my feelings.
Well I'm unbottling it bitches.
I AM HAVING A HARD TIME. I don't know what the balance is between freaking out and getting to cry and wanting someone to tell me how hard my life is and it's ok that I'm losing it...and also not wanting to live this way.
So I keep reading stupid pins about stress relief and I sit in funny yoga positions all while thinking how unproductive this is and how I should be writing tweets about testicular cancer (volunteer thing).
I wish I had my therapist back to sort this all out with. So she could tell me what's rational, what's selfish, how to move forward.
I know things will work out--but that doesn't make me feel any more safe or in control. I mean they better fucking work out. I just hate not knowing if my application will go through on the place, if I'll get this job, if I'm going to have to pay unemployment back, where I'll be living in 16 days. There is so much unknown and I feel so unsafe and ungrounded.
But thinking about this mess doesn't make it go away. But wallowing in it does make the evil inside me feel better...thinking about all the shit and how "bad" my life is and how I want people to feel sorry for me and how I want everything to just get easy.
The only way it's going to fucking do that is if I change how I think about it.
I mean I've had a roof over my head for this long and haven't gone hungry (except on my own accord -- terrible anorexia joke) so this has to work out.
If I get the place I get it -- if not SOMETHING ELSE will come along that I'm meant to have.
If I get the job I get it -- if not SOMETHING ELSE will come along that I'm meant to do.
If unemployment fucks me I know I didn't do anything intentionally and they have always been really great up until now--just a lot of work for not working--I'll be ok either way.
I guess as I type all of this out I realize that I will be ok. That these questions all have answers, and when I know those answers I can act accordingly.
But until then I really need to change my perspective on what's happening and stay in the present.
"Because I don't live in either my past or my future. I'm interested only in the present. If you can concentrate always on the present, you'll be a happy man....Life will be a party for you, a grand festival, because life is the moment we're living right now," says the camel driver to the boy in The Alchemist
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