How often do people really take the time to be present and compassionate? I’m profoundly grateful to feel heard. I fell a little in love with the new guy for calling me when I admitted I came home early to cry and crawl into bed. I know, I’m easy, but once you’ve been bullied and shamed for struggling, people who are kind are my heroes.
It’s against my religion, but I’m calling in sick tomorrow too. After almost three years, I just hit the wall at my hospital job. I don’t care if I lose my retirement vesting; when have I ever had money anyway? The stress is wrecking me, and there’s clearly no escape from my old department. I have to find somewhere else to work, and I wish I could just be done working a traditional job and living in the city. How shitty that it comes down to me having to defend myself; the one thing that I’m absolutely worst at. Plus I won’t even get the opportunity until after I return from vacation – how delightful to have that hanging over my already escalated anxiety – dammit. Then again, that place has been the source of so many panic attacks and extreme depression; what’s a few more weeks?
The dude listened patiently, asked questions, reassured – clearly he has a lot of experience talking people down. I deeply appreciate that, even if experience would indicate that such a conversation would blow any romantic possibilities. I’m curious though, since we agreed that we could talk to each other about anything. I’m sure he’s nice enough to talk to me again, he’s that kind of wonderful person, but anything else?
I don’t feel a lot of hope for my prospects at the moment; a combination of things kinda has me swamped. I hope my vacation helps my attitude, and the sense of grief and loss that feels too big to deal with, too heavy to carry. I already know that I don’t want to come back to where I am now. Dear universe, is a miracle too much to ask for?
Cover Me – Bruce Springsteen
Invisible – Alison Moyet
A Little In Love – Cliff Richard (don’t judge)