The Neurotic Artist Writes Again!
I apologize for the ridiculous amount of gloomy posts as of late, but unfortunately that seems to be where my mind has been headed over the months. I almost broke down in tears when talking to my boyfriend earlier in the car because of things that seem to spiraling out of control for me.
Note, I do not like being out of control, and this spiral I'm referring to is stressing over a job I absolutely loathe, insomnia patterns, and the general happiness I wish to obtain but just can't seem to get.
As much as I hate to admit it, I've connected the unbelievable amount of stress I've accumulated to the infamous job #2. I've been stuck there for just over a year already and I practically balked when I realized I have been there for that long. I hate dealing with the general public more than ever now, but the ones that seem to receive the most of the venting from the abuse of obtuse and belittling morons is my ever wonderful significant other and my pillow ( I am so sorry, but it's either you or the wall...). For the record, when being told that you don't care about me keeping my job, remember you could be dealing with someone who has much less self-restraint and doesn't care about being polite. That's besides the point.
I know I'm lucky to have two jobs and that I am even working to begin with. I understand that I need to keep working and that I should be working so I can keep up with the bills, and I don't even live on my own yet! Jobs can break people, and I believe the one is 90% successful in doing so in more ways than one. I've been reading Single Dad Laughing (amazing writer, I love him), and two posts he had written had really hit home for me in my brain. Dealing with the need to be perfect (even though I laugh at that and try to embrace my imperfections) and the desire to be happy is still very daunting to me because the way to achieve the latter absolutely scares me. A lot. I finally admitted that out loud to Zac not too long ago, and while I wish that I could say that relieved a lot of weight on my shoulders, it certainly did not make the load worse.
I'm terrified. I am absolutely scared to death. I hate feeling like I have no control over what I want to do anymore, and actually experiencing small doses of how people around me would react to what I want to do is rather discouraging and I've realized I've crawled into a box of some sorts and can't seem to make myself want to leave it. As of late it's been more negative than positive with certain people I tried talking to about what I want, and to those who have been encouraging me even just by listening to my rants, I love you and thank you for doing so. I'm scared to take a leap into the unknown just based purely on the fact that, realistically and economically, it would be suicide.
This is why I am so bad at talking about things: I bottle up everything, and I mean EVERYTHING. I know I tend to make mountains out of molehills and yes I cling to the dramatic from time to time. I think it's safe to say that it's because I lock everything up inside. I still need that type of control, and lately I feel that hold slowly tearing away. I don't want to lose it. I don't want to crumble and break. I don't want to let this fear that has emerged from stress to take more and more control of my life. I don't even feel like I'm living anymore unless I'm actually with friends or not in the workplace! I don't even see my family that much to begin with because we all work, and I know I pull away from them when we all actually happen to be in the same place at the same time.
I don't know what steps to take anymore...