When do you take the plunge into the "fuck it" pool? How much is too much? Where is your line in the sand? What risks are you willing to take?
I get sick of one entry after another reeking of self-pity, although I do have empathy for those who have the ever-pressing weights of the world crushing their skulls. I know all too well the smothering darkness of it all. Depression is a flesh-eating virus that consumes from the inside out. And I have the internal damage to prove it.
And when things aren't that bad, it's hard to justify a singular whine about one's measly problems. There's always someone out there sucking the shit end of the stick worse than yours. However, that does not invalidate struggles and hardships we all go through.
I'm wondering. When do you cram it up someone's ass and walk away? From anything. Your job, a bad relationship, your crap obligations, those bad habits. What makes a situation intolerable? Because somehow I've lost the ability to discern a shit sandwich from a lollipop.
You'd think this would by easy peasy, but such it not the fucking case. I'm 30 damn 7 years old and I haven't figured this shit out yet? What is wrong with me? I understand that I've gone through some junk that shook up my world like a bunch of bingo balls in a giant spinner. I can't tell my boss, and this job I loathe, to shove it because I need insurance and drugs. Drugs that I'll die without. Drugs that I can't afford as it is. So haste is not a word allowed in my vocabulary anymore.
But dammit. I continue to choose the wrong path over and over and over and over and over. And frankly, I'm sick of hearing my thoughts slamming into each other like a 10 car pile-up.
I've got the love thing right. For once. I have a wonderful man in my life whom I love and who loves me. Neither of us have settled. And that feels great. Here's the but. But, there are some very important aspects of my life that I really want to walk away from and I can't seem to take the first step.
This is what I wrote in an e-mail yesterday.
I want to take some time off.
I want a dog.
I want more.
I want to be healthy.
I want to feel good.
I want another career.
I want a change.
I need a god damn break.
I know what I want to do. I know what I need to do. I've heard my inner voice, the one who's smart and protective, and I continue to ignore it. Because I'm an adult that has to take care of herself and be a responsible human being. -shakes fists in air- But I don't want to be. I want to dye my hair blue and sleep in until 10 and not drive in 15 hours of bumper-to-bumper traffic every week. I don't want to deal with fuckers who treat me like shit. In my personal and work life.
I need to remove myself from all of these stressors that I set myself up for. Or at least the ones that are driving me bat-shit crazy!
Problem is, I know how to live in shit. I have a high tolerance for it. Or do I? Crap. I'm looking through fog and it's thick. I'm sleeping on a bed of nails. Choking on a crust of bread.
I really don't know what to do.
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3 comments:
ginny - I've done all of those things, they aren't working anymore. That's my dilemma.
rocky - I only have about a week, and I have to take that in March for my scan. I've thought about trying to get a leave of absence, but pretty much know I'd lose my job, which I can't do because of the insurance. Bah.
Ugh. Trust me, if I had something useful to tell you, I would have told it to myself aaages ago.
Outstanding post. I almost had to do a double-take, because it sounds like you pulled this one outta my head. The past year has put a lot of shit sandwiches in my lunchbox, too. And like you, I'm having a hard time deciding which ones to unwrap, or to just throw the whole damn lunchbox away.
i don't have any platitudes to offer, only my commiseration. But I agree with becka... sounds like a day or two off, in conjunction with a long weekend, could help serve as a mental margarita.
That, and stickin' it to The Man.
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