Verbally strapped down
State of me: There's been a lot going on emotionally lately, things I have a hard time talking about. It's left me feeling tied up, strapped down. There are a lot of things I can't say to anyone ever. I've thought about finding a therapist, but I've spent so much of my life sitting in therapist's offices that the thought just exhausts me. And so here I am, with my . . . stuff. The worst of it is that I'm self-medicating with food. While I haven't undone everything I achieved a few years ago with my weight loss, I've undone a lot of it, which is another source of personal unhappiness.
Work: One thing I'm not afraid to vent about is the day job, the thought of which also exhausts me. When I took this particular job, I had some very lofty goals in mind. Those lofty goals got lost in the minutiae of the day-to-day and in office politics. This team isn't actually very political, but there's one person who's a little bit of a nightmare to work with. Personally, we get along well and share common interests. Professionally, she's kind of a minefield. I've already had informational interviews with another manager in an effort to explore my options outside my team. I hate the thoughts of leaving my team because I like most of them very much, but it's clear that my role is a dead end, and it's clear that if I stay I'll be subject to Miss Minefield's behavior regularly. It's making me anxious and angry. I've spoken with my manager about it; I've spoken with my grand-boss about it. I'm also considering broadening my search.
(As a side note to allanh, I'm developing a finer appreciation for what you're experiencing at work. This morning, I'm all out of f*cks to give. Today's mantra is, "If they want this sh*tty copy on the site and are willing to escalate to get it, that's exactly what I'll post. And I'll make a point to let everyone know whose responsibility it is. 'Cuz it sure ain't mine.")
Work on an uber-scale: I'm 52 years old. For much--not all but much--of my life, my day job has been that most necessary of necessities rather than a true vocation. My true vocations have been relegated to avocations: writing, art, photography, singing. I lay this at the feet of the loud old voices in my head that have proven harder to shake off than I ever would have believed. Part of it is that I haven't done the necessary work to not just shake them off, but silence them well and truly. It's hard. But at some point, I just have to shut them all up and make some decisions about what my priorities are. Time is growing shorter by the day (a fact which has been hammered into my awareness the last few years and especially lately) and if I want to achieve any of the dreams I had, I've got to get on the stick. Do something different. I've done two things so far: 1) I've started perusing the classes at Coursera.org. My thinking is that if I'm going to make a significant change in direction I need to dip my toe into a couple of different areas before I submerge myself; Coursera is one way to do said toe-dipping. 2) I've picked up some colored pencils and have been coloring mandalas in a Dover Publications collection. I have found it to be meditative and calming. Also quite satisfying. By the time I finished coloring my second mandala, I found myself wanting to do something more original. We'll see where that takes me.
Writing: I am in a tough spot. This is another area where I just can't . . . talk about what's going on. I hate it (being in the tough spot, not writing). I want to write. It's a struggle every damn day.
Edited to add: Here are the mandalas mentioned above. I can't take credit for the designs, but I did the coloring.
Work: One thing I'm not afraid to vent about is the day job, the thought of which also exhausts me. When I took this particular job, I had some very lofty goals in mind. Those lofty goals got lost in the minutiae of the day-to-day and in office politics. This team isn't actually very political, but there's one person who's a little bit of a nightmare to work with. Personally, we get along well and share common interests. Professionally, she's kind of a minefield. I've already had informational interviews with another manager in an effort to explore my options outside my team. I hate the thoughts of leaving my team because I like most of them very much, but it's clear that my role is a dead end, and it's clear that if I stay I'll be subject to Miss Minefield's behavior regularly. It's making me anxious and angry. I've spoken with my manager about it; I've spoken with my grand-boss about it. I'm also considering broadening my search.
(As a side note to allanh, I'm developing a finer appreciation for what you're experiencing at work. This morning, I'm all out of f*cks to give. Today's mantra is, "If they want this sh*tty copy on the site and are willing to escalate to get it, that's exactly what I'll post. And I'll make a point to let everyone know whose responsibility it is. 'Cuz it sure ain't mine.")
Work on an uber-scale: I'm 52 years old. For much--not all but much--of my life, my day job has been that most necessary of necessities rather than a true vocation. My true vocations have been relegated to avocations: writing, art, photography, singing. I lay this at the feet of the loud old voices in my head that have proven harder to shake off than I ever would have believed. Part of it is that I haven't done the necessary work to not just shake them off, but silence them well and truly. It's hard. But at some point, I just have to shut them all up and make some decisions about what my priorities are. Time is growing shorter by the day (a fact which has been hammered into my awareness the last few years and especially lately) and if I want to achieve any of the dreams I had, I've got to get on the stick. Do something different. I've done two things so far: 1) I've started perusing the classes at Coursera.org. My thinking is that if I'm going to make a significant change in direction I need to dip my toe into a couple of different areas before I submerge myself; Coursera is one way to do said toe-dipping. 2) I've picked up some colored pencils and have been coloring mandalas in a Dover Publications collection. I have found it to be meditative and calming. Also quite satisfying. By the time I finished coloring my second mandala, I found myself wanting to do something more original. We'll see where that takes me.
Writing: I am in a tough spot. This is another area where I just can't . . . talk about what's going on. I hate it (being in the tough spot, not writing). I want to write. It's a struggle every damn day.
Edited to add: Here are the mandalas mentioned above. I can't take credit for the designs, but I did the coloring.