*Breaks radio silence*
*Sits with fingers poised on keyboard*
*Gets some Doritos*
*Eats some Doritos*
*Looks at knickers online*
*Sits with fingers poised on keyboard*
Man, hard to write when you’ve not done it for a while, innit?
*Daydreams for ten minutes*
Life is stressful and shit and exciting. I haven’t written here because I didn’t know how to, with two things I didn’t think I could write about. 1) Falling out with a friend. 2) Deciding to change career direction in quite a dramatic fashion. These two things happened just a few days after finishing therapy and it’s all been a bit overwhelming really.
Let’s start with the career thing. Thanks to the efforts of a couple of friends one early Sunday morning at the seaside, I decided in the space of an hour that I want to become a social worker. Thanks to the therapy I’ve had, I realised that I am not afraid of doing something like this anymore. Cool, huh? For the last couple of years I’ve been all about the sensible. Well, fak dat shit. I want to do something meaningful. I want to help people and do something that matters. I know, I know, the last time I wrote about job stuff here I was all, not everything has to be about helping people, guilt doesn’t have to rule my life, I could just do a job doing things I quite like and that’s OK.
And that’s still all true. I needed to stop looking through a fog of guilt and fear. But when I started to strip away the layers of guilt and fear, I realised that I still want to do the helping people thing. And when I thought about the things I’d been planning to do, like project management and web stuff and shit like that, I suddenly felt soooooooooooooo relieved that I don’t have to do that. I was so desperate to get out of my job that I was scrabbling around trying to find something that might be maybe at least 30% enjoyable.
Fukkit, I want to be a social worker. So I’m going to go back to uni and do another masters [yes, I know, I’m addicted, stop rolling your eyes like that]. But first I need some experience so I’m applying for ALL the jobs. Man, there are loads of really cool jobs out there. It’s exhausting and exciting.
That other thing. Yeah, the falling out with a friend thing. I really thought I couldn’t mention that here, because we have sooooo many mutual friends and it’s not right and not fair. And I’m not going to write about what happened or her or owt like that. I am just wanting to write about what the fuck has happened to my brain since then. I didn’t want to write about that either because I wondered if writing about it here is actually very attention seeking and woe is me and that would be horrible. But, again, fukkit. It’s my blog, I can do what I like. And after I saw a few friends yesterday, who saw all the stuff I didn’t want to talk about because I didn’t want anyone to be in the middle or uncomfortable and I felt I was responsible for making everybody be fine in every way… well, since that failed and y’all saw it anyway I might as well get it off my chest.
Some words used to describe me have stuck because they are my sore spots and I feel so ashamed. Dammit, I’ve just tried writing a paragraph without any detail about what the words are because, again with the putting people in the middle and attention seeking and not writing about a real person, but the paragraph made no sense. The friend said I’m aggressive, and some other things, but aggressive is the word that haunts me the most. So if I begin to act in a way that might be a bit aggressive I freak out and think about what a horrible person I am. And if anyone even hints at aggression or abrasiveness in me, I freak out then too and start to cry but in an attempt not to cry I get cross, and then I am definitely being abrasive so I really am an aggressive cow and everyone must hate me so then I panic and actually cry and rush off to the loo. Therapy was starting to help me to see myself as a whole person, so I can have some abrasive bits but the abrasive bits don’t rub out the kind bits. I’m both. I’m a whole person, with lots of bits. And now I’m back to being stuck with words like aggressive and uncaring and unkind stuck in my head going round and round and round. [Please, please no cries of YOU’RE NOT AGGRESSIVE, YOU’RE LOVELY, alright?]
Along with the exciting thing and the distressing thing is a stressful thing because work is making me miserable. Relations between me and my boss have hit an all time low and I’m really fucking unhappy. I don’t particularly like saying that because it feels kinda melodramatic, but it is true. I am really unhappy. Not depressed, unhappy. Stress levels have gone through the roof and I realised last night that it wouldn’t take too much to push me into being unable to work. Again. I’m desperate to get out of this job but sticking it out so I leave for the right reason, because I’m a stubborn cow, and also, that’s what being an adult is – life sucks and you just have to get on with it.
I wasn’t sure whether to put this in, but I will, because it’s a Big Thing. Someone at work who has supported me for years and is just epic and wonderful and funny and friendly and knowledgeable and caring has died. I’m gutted.
These things all kicked off at exactly the same time and have almost [but not quite] overridden the therapy stuff. I’m completely knackered. I’ve been ill for over a week, I’ve slept soooooooo much the last few days and my eyes still insist on flickering, which is really disconcerting. It’s like I’m half asleep all the time. And I’m finally melting. Thank you so much to those of you who looked after me yesterday – you collectively mopped me up in the loo, hugged me, talked to me, took me for a walk, calmed me when I lost the plot entirely on the way home and talked to me until 3am so I didn’t go to bed upset.
A few years ago, when a lot of us were finally meeting for the first time, I spent time with a friend who was ill. We hugged a lot. When she was feeling better I said she’s a throw when she’s depressed. You know the ones that you flop over a couch? That. She flops. 🙂 Last night she said that when I’m not right in the head I’m a Catherine wheel. I spin round and round and round, bright and fizzing and faster and faster and faster. Not like a firework that goes up, pops, makes pretty colours and then goes away. I get stuck in an endless fizzing loop. I’m now at the point where I think I’m going to spin off and set fire to somebody’s shed so good job there’s only one more week of work before I go on holiday for two weeks, eh?