Old Job, New Impressions

I have been having a rocky start at my new job. A few of the personalities at work are at odds with mine. There is one other manager on my level at my job and she is a wild one. I have told everyone that she’s the complete opposite of me; tall, thin, loud, and opinionated. She’s quite risque. Other coworkers and I talk about how scandalously she talks and how upper management lets her get away with it.

I laughed to myself this morning. I have a new manager (one month after getting hired O_o) and he was chiding the afore mentioned manager for being too sexual at work, talking about her boobs. Isn’t that common sense not to mention or draw attention to your boobs at work? I don’t know, call me old fashioned. *rolls eyes*

So there’s a level of professionalism lacking, to say the least.

I have no regrets about transferring back to the Old Ren, I’ll say that. It was like time ravaging a past lover of yours. One day, you come back to find their skin is sagging and things are amiss. My hotel is not as good as it once was. Time has done a number on it as well as shoddy management. The manager who hired me was more laissez faire than she could afford to be, as well as the general manager before her.

No one has trained me on anything. It’s lucky I remember a lot about the job I once held 2 years ago. I was at the peak of my career working in the same position I am now. Now, I have surpassed even that time. Now I am getting paid more than I ever have at any job of mine. I feel accomplished. I feel I can endure for the compensation I’m receiving. The disposable income I have had is making me feel so much better about many things. I don’t regret leaving the Residence Inn.

There was another girl that gave me much grief at my job. She was my problem child. I hated her passionately in a way I have rarely felt about a subordinate. She was loathed to do her job. She hated me because I wouldn’t let her do as she pleased. I was never so glad for someone to put their two week’s notice in!!

It bothered me that someone I had to work with so frequently disliked me. She so obviously disliked me and the feeling was mutual. I feel quite annoyed that I wasn’t able to commandeer respect from that little shit. I never did anything to her, besides expect her to do what she is paid to do. She didn’t even see fit to speak to me on her last day, and for all I wanted to wish her well, too. Bitch.

I get along well with everybody, if you don’t like me, there’s probably something more to that. Others said she had a problem with authority. I wasn’t the only one she’d been a thorn in the side to. But she and the manager I mentioned before seemed to be on each others’ side. She would keep my worker in the back office talking when she knew I wanted her to work, thus vexing me terribly.

That same manager also undermines my authority all of the time. She stays late frequently into my shift, often half of my shift. Even though I am the manager on duty, my co-workers felt more inclined to ask her permission for things and talk to her more. I get the feeling I am not as charming and vivacious, but what gives? It annoys me.

Why aren’t people warming to me faster? Better? I don’t think I’m doing anything wrong. But perhaps I have overlooked some behavior…..

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Theme song of my life:

Leave Me Alone (I’m Lonely) by P!nk

Go away
Give me a chance to miss you
Say goodbye
It’ll make me want to kiss you

I love you so
Much more when you’re not here
Watchin all the bad shows
Drinking all of my beer

I don’t believe Adam and Eve
Spent every goddamn day together
If you give me some room there will be room enough for two

Tonight
Leave me alone I’m lonely
Alone I’m lonely
I’m tired
Leave me alone I’m lonely
Alone I’m lonely tonight

I don’t wanna wake up with another
But I don’t wanna always wake up with you either
No you can’t hop into my shower
All I ask for is one ***kin’ hour

You taste so sweet
But I can’t eat the same thing every day
Cuttin’ off the phone
Leave me the ***k alone
Tomorrow I’ll be beggin’ you to come home

Tonight
Leave me alone I’m lonely
Alone I’m lonely
I’m tired
Leave me alone I’m lonely
Alone I’m lonely tonight

Go away
Come back
Go away
Come back

Why can’t I just have it both ways
Go away
Come back
Go away

Come back
I wish you knew the difference
Go away
Come back

Go away
Give me a chance to miss you
Say goodbye
It’ll make me want to kiss you

Go away
Give me a chance to miss you
Say goodbye
It’ll make me want to kiss you

Go away
Give me a chance to miss you
Say goodbye
It’ll make me want to kiss you

Tonight
Leave me alone I’m lonely
Alone I’m lonely
I’m tired
Leave me alone I’m lonely
Alone I’m lonely tonight

Tonight
Leave me alone I’m lonely
Alone I’m lonely
I’m tired
Leave me alone I’m lonely
Alone I’m lonely tonight

Tonight
Go away
Give me a chance to miss you
Leave me alone I’m lonely

Alone I’m lonely
Say goodbye
It’ll make me want to kiss you
I’m tired

Go away
Give me a chance to miss you
Leave me alone I’m lonely
Alone I’m lonely

Say goodbye
It’ll make me want to kiss you
Tonight
Go away

Give me a chance to miss you
Say goodbye
It’ll make me want to kiss you

We create our own Heaven and Hell here on Earth

The Good Place’s latest episode is titled “Best Self”. In order to get to the Good Place, they had to be the best version of themselves in order to board the golden hot air balloon. Would you pass this test?

I’m a work in progress. Have I hit my best self, or has it been all downhill from some point? Have I hit my zenith? I suspect not. Great things linger in me, I am yet to achieve some of my better successes. Don’t count me down and out yet, I am merely biding my time on the sidelines.

My Hell on Earth would be trapped in a sea world aquarium. Another thought I had was stranded at the beach on a cold, overcast day.

But what is Heaven?

Me, with a baby/toddler on my hip, smile on my face.

Achieving motherhood.

I hate social media

Image result for social media

I hate social media. I have recently renewed my facebook account and started over. I was tired of seeing memories from years ago pop up in my feed. My page was not myself anymore. I am not all about family venues, friends, and adventure. I am all about anxiety, depression, binge-eating, and marital concerns.

I get depressed because of social media. I can mindlessly scroll for hours down my feed looking at what others have posted. For pretty much the duration of my relationship with Jacob, I have been absent from social media. I quit because it was too risky when I had an obsessively possessive new boyfriend. I had no privacy whatsoever; he looked through my phone and got paranoid at every notification, every ding. He smothered me and made me give up all my friends, and I did it because I was going through something in my life. I naturally went down a different path than my friends, choosing to fall into drugs and alcohol. My friends found other methods to cope with their problems, and bully for them.

I’ve been caught up in trying to forget my problems. I have been lazy and trying to get comfy living in my own hole of depression. When my depression is at its worst, I convince myself nothing is wrong and ignore everything fantastically.

Until I wake up one day months from now, and realize I’ve been on auto-pilot. I haven’t been paying attention. Weeks go by and you realize how little you care for yourself, how thinking of yourself and trying to tend to your needs is painful. It’s painful being aware of your shortcomings and trying to accept them. Better to be stoned and not bothered about it.

For a while.

There always comes the moments when you wake up. You look around and realize you don’t live the life you want to have. You realize you’re miserable and you were doing so well pretending otherwise. You didn’t realize you were such a good actor. Or worse, perhaps no one is paying attention.

Are you calling out for help? No, you’re too afraid to be yourself. How can you be vulnerable in front of people and admit you have hang-ups? Today was oddly strange. I worked the overnight shift & had a conversation I may not have otherwise. A girl at work confided in me her struggles getting therapy now and when she was younger. How candid I was admitting I had the same problem. How can you afford them? We talked about depression medication and the effect it had on us.  We talked about psychology. I would normally – never in a thousand years – admit to someone I don’t know well that I’ve dealt with depression before. There’s still such a stigma attached to mental illnesses, it’s daunting admitting that you have one.

No one wants to hear about my problems. I keep them to myself, and I drown in all the turmoil they cause me. My husband doesn’t like me to be honest with him. He would rather me keep things to myself. When I try to expose my deepest hurting to get some relief, he is incapable of providing the comfort I seek. He doesn’t relish me being such a deep feeling individual. His emotional intelligence is not quite on par with mine. He takes things the wrong way and gets defensive. We fight.

He resents my mental illness. He doesn’t understand. He takes my illness personally. He thinks we don’t have sex at long intervals because I’m withholding on purpose. I’m sorry but my libido along with my spirits are DOWN IN THE DUMPS & YOU’RE NOT HELPING.

I have a feeling that my anxiety, depression, and drug use are a question the likes of which came first, the chicken or the egg? Does my self medicating cause me depression, or am I depressed because I am self medicating? Does the weed cause or ease my anxiety? I know that when I quit smoking, I have to take more anxiety meds. My depression is much worse when I am detoxing. I become quite morose during sober periods. I take offense much easier. I am emotionally raw and sensitive to every little utterance. I require more attention, love, and support. I am a pain in the ass when I am sober. I hate myself when I’m sober.

I hate myself now, too, but it’s easier to convince myself I’m okay when I feel like this. I can ignore the self-loathing when I am like this.

About four years ago, my mother admitted to me that my dad wasn’t my biological father. This fact alone is jarring, especially when you have believed he was your crappy dad for the past two decades. A chance to receive your genetic material from someone else! You think it could be someone great, could be someone you would be lucky to know, maybe?!

You’re not that lucky. Imagine my dismay when my mother told me her alcoholic ex gang-banging Mexican lover was my biological dad? And she wants me to accept this, everyone in my family says it’s an opportunity for us to be a family together finally. My mother is over the moon in love and thinks I should welcome him with welcome arms.

When he finds out, he instantly wants to claim me. He suspected I was his all those years ago, but he wrote me off when my mother rejected him. He loves me and is thrilled at the thought of having such an accomplished daughter when he comes from nothing. He treats me like I am golden and stands up for me when my mom says unkind things.

He is surprisingly more like me than I want to admit. He is sympathetic and generous with his words- and who am I, but a fool that wants to listen to pretty words?

I’m starved for sentiments of love, out loud declarations of how great I am. No one tells me I am beautiful or amazing. No one appreciates me. No one wants to know the real me. But he does, and I hate him for it.

I would like to hate him, but really I ache for him. I want his sentiments to be true, for his actions to back up his words. But I have yet to feel it. I doubt it. I doubt him.

My father keeps invading my life. He sends me a message one day weeks ago and I still feel bad about it everyday. How to beg someone to leave you alone and spare their feelings?

Consumed by guilt and resentment. Want to forgive and move past things, but then I find myself taking one step forward and three steps back. I was willing to talk to him and have a relationship with him and now I am stingy with my time again.

Why should I make time and spend mental energy on you, what do I owe you? Why do you shit on my life and make me feel bad? You were absent for so many years, why don’t you just keep doing that?

I don’t want to expose myself- fuck you, you’ll only hurt me in the end. I know you’re not worth it. I know I will regret knowing you.

This is the stuff that is really on my mind. People think I am a cool customer, that I never get mad and just roll with the flow. I try to appear that way, but really I am eating myself up inside. I want to talk about my shitty marriage, depression, and dad issues but who wants to hear it? Who will be my friend when I am just so utterly down? It is my habit to turn away from depressed people, so I expect to be rejected.

Melanie Wilkes

First description of Melanie

Ashley had made no attempt to join the circle about her, in fact she had not had a word alone with him since arriving, or even spoken to him since their first greeting. He had come forward to welcome her when she came into the back garden, but Melanie had been on his arm then, Melanie who hardly came up to his shoulder.

[Melanie] was a tiny, frailly built girl, who gave the appearance of a child masquerading in her mother’s enormous hoop skirts — an illusion that was heightened by the shy, almost frightened look in her too large brown eyes. She had a cloud of curly dark hair which was so sternly repressed beneath its net that no vagrant tendrils escaped, and this dark mass, with its long widow’s peak, accentuated the heart shape of her face. Too wide across the cheek bones, too pointed at the chin, it was a sweet, timid face but a plain face, and she had no feminine tricks of allure to make observers forget its plainness. She looked — and was — as simple as earth, as good as bread, as transparent as spring water. But for all her plainness of feature and smallness of stature, there was a sedate dignity about her movements that was oddly touching and far older than her seventeen years.

Her gray organdie dress, with its cherry-colored satin sash, disguised with its billows and ruffles how childishly undeveloped her body was, and the yellow hat with long cherry streamers made her creamy skin glow. Her heavy earbobs with their long gold fringe hung down from loops of tidily netted hair, swinging close to her brown eyes, eyes that had the still gleam of a forest pool in winter when brown leaves shine up through quiet water.

She had smiled with timid liking when she greeted Scarlett and told her how pretty her green dress was, and Scarlett had been hard put to be even civil in reply, so violently did she want to speak alone with Ashley. Since then, Ashley had sat on a stool at Melanie’s feet, apart from the other guests, and talked quietly with her, smiling the slow drowsy smile that Scarlett loved. What made matters worse was that under his smile a little sparkle had come into Melanie’s eyes, so that even Scarlett had to admit that she looked almost pretty. As Melanie looked at Ashley, her plain face lit up as with an inner fire, for if ever a loving heart showed itself upon a face, it was showing now on Melanie Hamilton’s…..

But Ashley did not seem to notice her at all. He only looked up at Melanie and talked on, and Melanie looked down at him with an expression that radiated the fact that she belonged to him.

Melanie’s Strength & Bravery

Nursing in Atlanta

 

Coming to the family’s defense

Melanie had dragged herself from bed so soon after having a baby and had come to her aid with a weapon too heavy even for her to lift. That had taken courage, the kind of courage Scarlett honestly knew she herself did not possess, the thin-steel, spun-silk courage which had characterized Melanie on the terrible night Atlanta fell and on the long trip home. It was the same intangible, unspectacular courage that all the Wilkeses possessed, a quality which Scarlett did not understand but to which she gave grudging tribute

Just decide this isn’t what you want.

If you do not like where you are, move. You are not a tree.

You are an adult responsible for your own decisions.

I have decided to stay high all the time. I have surrendered to my addiction, inwardly drowning. At one point I was open to speaking to my father and now once again I shirk from the thought of him.

I despise thinking of him. I resent it when he reminds me of his existence and love for me. I know I sound ungrateful- but even so- I have done fine without a no-good Mexican dad for over 20 years. I do not need him now.

I hate feeling pressured. People ask me why I feel like I should spend time on him… and it can’t be put into words. So much of myself I do not feel free to divulge these days.

It is on the tip of my tongue to discuss my situation. My husband suppresses it. He had a bad relationship with his dad, too. His advice was remarkably unhelpful; “to not think about it. Don’t give them the time of day.”

How to explain how I obsess over his conduct?

I obsess over how cold and cruel I must look to him, rejecting him. He wants to love me and I will have nothing to do with him.

He wants to utter niceties to me and I am starved to hear such things. It’s really unfair of him; to offer something I desperately want but cannot bear to accept. For if I accept his love and his attentions, he will remain another emotional vampire of my life.

I don’t want him to suck the life out of me. Already, he causes me such distress. He is not even out of the halfway house, yet. How to kindly write someone and tell them you’re better off if they forget you? No such thing, and such is my dilemma.

You Need Some Blue in Your Life

 Blue will make you feel calm, intelligent, and confident. And with a little blue, you will project an aura of sincerity and loyalty. If you want wisdom, you’ve got to get a little blue in your life!

For extra punch: Combine blue with brown or green

The downside of blue: Blue can make you seem more conservative and reserved than you are

The consequences of more blue in your life:

You will feel more open to the world around you
You will have a broader and richer perspective on life
You will be able to find solitude, even in the most hectic times