Thursday, May 25, 2006

5/25

I'm not sure what was more surprising to people: that I felt those feelings yesterday, or that I wrote about them. It was definately an "airing your dirty laundry moment in public" kind of post, one that I would have been discouraged to write if I had to ask permission for these kinds of things. Fortunately, the Internet (the most socialist, egalitarian forms of mass media) means that everyone gets to say what they think, whenever they want. Beautiful, no?

I've always had these feelings of self-hatred and blame. Let's not forget that I was hospitalized for a major depression at one point, shall we? The depression that was primarily caused by my feelings of failure and lack of self-worth. I'm just starting to get better about telling people (ok, so they are anonymous people and my family, who is forced to read about how I feel from a blog post) about these feelings. Baby steps are still steps.

I was also vague in my last post about the details of what happened yesterday. Maybe it was out of self-protection, or as My New Shoes likes to say, "Maybe I just like to be secretive". Here are some of the details:
  • I asked for financial help from a family member that I don't see frequently, but who I have a good relationship with. I didn't ask my Mom, Dad, or Aunt Jen for money because they have already helped me so much with raising Zac that it didn't feel right. They tend to get the, "OMG, my car just crashed into a highway median and I think I smell gasoline. Can you come and pick me up?" kind of phone calls.
  • My boss and I just talked about the perceived lack of respect from my coworkers and supervisors. In my mind, you can either underpay me or disrespect me - doing both is a quick way to make me leave and find a job where I can get one of my professional needs met. I have yet to find a job that provides both adequate pay and a decent level of respect.
  • Still single. Still sucks.
At that is my devastating triumvirate of personal and professional crises: lack of money, lack of respect, lack of intimacy. Couple that with lack of antidepressant medication and a uterus that won't stop bleeding, and I think you can see why I reacted the way I did yesterday.

No comments: