If only I saw a therapist, I could probably have my issues ‘fixed’ by now. Stop laughing, maybe I could’ve
Last summer if felt like my internal world was cracking, though it had been building since about a year ago. I’m pretty good at keeping the plates spinning most the time but I must’ve let one fall as my grandparents seemed to be concerned at a family gathering in May. I thought they were being their usual grandparenty selves ha. Though they treaded lightly, looking back I appreciate them making the effort to a say a few things over the next months. And maybe I’ll figure out how to officially say thanks.
Looking back a bit further, I’m able to see now just how much I was affected by being booted out the door of a job I held, and hated, for so much of my adult life.
That miserable going-no-where job was the one thing keeping me together through every parenting self-doubt, financial woe, up all night crying boyfriend fight, frustration or disappointment. It was my spouse – no matter what mess I went home to – in the morning I had constistency & stability. And sure, boredom. Being the boss’ daughter I had no choice but to try to always be agreeable, do more than my share, never call in sick. And though I hated it and daydreamed of leaving triumphantly while I spend the day sending out resumes ha, how could I leave?
And while I’m thankful for a way to leave what I’ve now described as the Ike Turner of jobs, no matter how much I have a desire to make my own way – I’m missing the constant. I guess I couldn’t be married to my job forever.