I've had plenty of time to write, but haven't. I'd love to explain the absence due to the whole moving across country bit and trying to settle in. But in reality, I'm a crazy slacker and when everything falls apart you don't want anyone to know.
I thought moving out a house of smokers would make the constant draining down the back of my throat go away. But it hasn't. Then I got an actual cold, and it now comes and goes as it pleases. Therefore it's crazy annoying. And then I remember I was trying to be a grown-up and outgrow my superstitions by leaving the guardian angel of health Betsy gave to me.
I'm not prone to normal superstitions, but she gave me that angel when I was in the hospital in 2007. And since then, regularly gave me little guardian angels. I don't particularly like angels at all actually. But that angel stuck with me. I always kept it on my desk. And became convinced it would keep my in good health. And from then on out, whenever I got a cold, sick, or any health related issue, I'd tear in to check my angel. And, what wonderful way to reinforce bad behaviors, she would either be knocked over or had a layer of dust covering her. And somehow I convinced myself that I would need to upright her, dust her off, and I would magically get healthier.
Ridiculous, I know. So when I moved in December, I decided that enough was enough. I was going to take responsibility for myself, and not blame hoodoo. And now of course, I'm wishing she was here so I could dust her off. I just know that somehow she got covered in dust inside her box in that attic. Whatever shall we do with me? ;)
I've never really been one to miss my family. And rarely ever my parents. But the past few weeks, I've really missed my mother. And all over the smallest of happenstances. Trading Places came on the TV (and I rarely ever even turn it on), and waves of nostalgia hit me. My mom introduced that movie to me, we both always loved it. We'd always yell to each other when it came on and would stop what we were doing to watch it and fold laundry during commercial breaks. And then I missed tons of other movies I grew up watching with her. Which in turn, caused me to miss her and our idiosyncratic rituals even more.
Who knew a divorce would bring me even closer to her and love and appreciate her even more. We became more emotionally dependent on each other these past few months, though more independent in our actions. We make the same jokes, are just as cynical. So when I go out, I hear exactly what quips she'd make. And how she loved my comebacks as we evaluated the people we saw.
Things are even harder as I moved expecting a job waiting for me. And then I came and it wasn't here. A month of phone-tag, and I tattle-taled to HR. And a week later, the process has been fixed and we're halfway there...but still waiting for these managers to get themselves together. But that's a month of not working and depleting my finances. And add in so many more bills I've never had to pay for before.
I flew into a frenzy of job applications and stalking craigslist for new things. I desperately pray to Jupiter that something comes through. I wake up every morning feeling utterly worthless. Just a parasite on the life of my boyfriend, when I should have been an addition and a help. And I know this was his biggest worry, and he's terrified of my becoming that. He constantly tells me that as long as I'm trying as hard as I can to work and find work, he'll support me and we'll be okay.
But that is so hard for me to swallow. Codependence emotionally is hard enough for me. I have lived so much of my life shutting off all emotion so that nothing ever bothered me really. But now to be open to him, everything else hurts so much more than it normally would. I feel like a child again. Constantly crying, over-sensitive. I can't stand it. It doesn't feel like me anymore. But to then add this in, I'm now completely dependent. And it GALLS me. I disgust myself every morning. I feel like there's no point in waking up because I have nothing to look forward to other than my Alex coming home to me. But if I have no good news for him, why would he want to come home to me?
I want to have something to offer. Instead I shut down to keep the hurt out, which in turn hurts us. Every which way I turn, hurts us, destroys yet something else. I'm always on tenterhooks. I miss truly sleeping, instead of spurts of restless dozing.
I just want to work. I was made to be a workaholic. I want to come home knowing I made money, I did my share, that I too have stories to share. I'm used to working 2 or 3 jobs, even when I didn't need one. To know I could contribute. To know, I could cover going out or staying in. That I was not dependent on others for my livelihood.
I don't understand what so hard about them covering their end of the bargain. They had reassured me every day that everything would click right into place and I needn't worry. But here we are.
Please, please, please...Jupiter....I just want to work.
Now you see why I was avoiding updating, haha.
